“Of course.” Fiona smiled sweetly. “Ye would nae want to become ill.”
Charlotte gave Niall a last glance before she turned and walked away. He was pretty sure he had just missed something else in that silent exchange.
“Well?” his father asked.
He reverted his attention. “The wagon broke an axle, so I was not able to return last night, but I didna realize a dinner invitation had been issued, either.”
“Ye kenned I needed papers from Fergus and that Keir and Fiona would be asked to stay for dinner since he was away.” His father waved a dismissive hand. “Nae matter now. Where did ye leave the wagon?”
“Near Inverness. We were lucky an inn had plenty of extra rooms,” he added before his father or Fiona asked the inevitable question. The inn probably did have available rooms, so it wasn’t exactly a lie. He wasn’t about to sully Charlotte’s reputation, nor did he want to put her in a position of a forced marriage to him. Not that he found the idea unappealing. He hadn’t for quite a while, and especially after last night… He pushed the thought away, lest his manhood start to betray him. He and Charlotte needed to talk. He had no idea of how she felt about the future. Both theirs and…well, thefuture. Better stick to the subject at hand.
“I met Simon in the courtyard. He rode out with a few others to retrieve it.”
“’Tis good. I’ll leave ye to entertain Fiona then, since duty calls me.”
Duty? Niall watched his father walk toward the study at the far end of the hallway. His father had no duty at the moment. Had he pawned Fiona off on him? The hair at his nape rose at that suspicion, which was pretty much confirmed when Fiona stepped up and put her hand on his arm again.
“Let’s go into the parlor by the fire, shall we? ’Tis cozy in there.”
“I need to change clothes first,” he said as he stepped back once more. “Perhaps a little later.” He bowed shortly, ignoring Fiona’s pout, and managed to get away.
As he went up the stairs, he wondered what sort of plotting his father was really doing. This was all too coincidental for his comfort.
He really needed to talk to Charlotte, but he would have to be careful when and where he did. Very careful.
****
He had dismissed her. Charlotte managed to restrain herself from slamming her bedchamber door behind her.Dismissed. She paced the short length between the door and the window several times before she realized she was making herself dizzy. Oh, he had covered it well, asking to take her cloak while she went to get her bath. He had been telling her to leave. So he could be alone with Fiona?
A knock on the door interrupted her tumultuous thoughts. “Yes?”
The maid Erin opened the door and poked her head inside. “Are ye proper? The lads have brought hot water for your bath.”
Proper? She certainly hadn’t been proper last night, at all. Even now, upset as she was, tingles shot through her at the memory. But the maid was referring to whether she was clothed. Which she hadn’t been last night…Stop.
“Yes. Come in.”
Erin pushed back the dressing screen so the two men following her could fill the half-bath behind it. In a few minutes, the scent of lavender steaming off the water infused the air. Her mood lifted considerably as she settled on the small seat in the tub and let the heat sink into her bones.
Maybe Niall hadn’t intended to dismiss her. Maybe he’d been trying to divert a confrontation. Hehadsaid they would talk later. That had sounded like a positive thing.
But she couldn’t understand what was happening. Apart from the precariousness of her time-travelling—which she wasn’t sure Niall really believed yet—she couldn’t ignore the reality of the present situation. Fiona would be staying at the castle for a week. She had made her intentions known, both at the ceilidh and just a few minutes ago in the foyer. Niall’s father has also made himself quite clear by asking Niall to entertain Fiona while she was here.
In truth, much as she loathed the idea, she couldn’t blame the circumstances. A marriage between the Frasers and the Gordons could be beneficial, especially since both fathers apparently had already approved the match. Sheknew, from the research she’d done for her novels, that a large percentage of aristocratic marriages were arranged for benefit of power or wealth. That had been the case in medieval times and had carried on into the eighteenth and even the nineteenth centuries, at least.
The water had cooled, and without its enveloping fragrance, her confusion returned. Reluctantly, she stepped out of the tub and dried herself.
She was naught but a guest here. One whose future—she smiled grimly at the irony—wasn’t at all certain. Would she remain permanently in the eighteenth century? She hadn’t found any portal back, but she could not remain at Castle Dounie if Niall were to become betrothed. She couldn’t. But then, where would she go?
She’d had this conversation with herself before, but that was before…before last night happened. So far, no one else knew, so the obligatory “duty and honor” of a marriage proposal wasn’t mandatory, nor would she accept one unless she knew it came from Niall’s heart.
As she dressed to go downstairs, she wondered if her future—and Niall’s—was going to be determined this week.
****
It seemed their future—or talks of it—were going to have to wait. By the time Charlotte returned to the Great Hall, a messenger had arrived with obviously important news. Niall’s family, along with a number of men and Fiona, had gathered around the man. Charlotte went to Greer. “What is happening?”
“Blair Castle is under siege.”
