Page 15 of Memory of a Highlander (Arch Through Time #27)

C harlie surveyed the building site. It was amazing how quickly the walls were going up now that Knox had been put in charge. The foundations had been dug in double quick time, and now several rows of bricks were already in place, Knox’s team of workers taking to bricklaying like they’d been born to it.

The house, of course, would be nothing grand. Just a simple, two-roomed cottage to house one of the families that Niall had taken in. But it would have brick walls, a hearth and chimney to guard against the bitter winters, and a tile roof. If, of course, Charlie was able to keep up with demand.

Since Knox had built her a bigger kiln and Niall had drafted in several villagers with pottery experience to help her, they’d been able to produce bricks and tiles in much larger quantities. In fact, it had become something of a production line, with different groups working on different things: digging the clay from the riverbank and transporting it to the pottery, cleaning it up prior to molding, putting the clay into the molds ready for firing and then manning the kiln itself.

It had turned into quite the industrial operation and Charlie doubted that was what Niall’s mother had intended when she’d built the pottery originally, but Charlie hoped that she would approve of the use to which it was being put now.

“Do ye have eyes in yer head or what, ye great lummox!” Charlie winced as Knox bellowed at one of his workers. “My half-blind granny could see that line isnae straight! Do it again or I’ll box yer bloody ears!”

Charlie gave the youth in question a sympathetic smile, glad it wasn’t her on the receiving end. Knox might be a master builder but he could definitely do with some work on his people skills.

She looked around. The site that had been chosen for the new cottages was awash with activity: digging, clearing, building, and everyone seemed to want to get involved. She saw men and women, old and young, all doing their bit to get these houses built.

There was an air of joviality about the place and Charlie sighed in contentment. It was good to see after the devastation at the windmill and she knew people had needed something positive to focus on, something to take their mind off what they’d lost. She was pleased to be contributing to that, even if only in a small way.

Shading her eyes, she glanced up towards the windmill. The scaffolding was back up around the structure and people were clambering all over it, shoring up what was left. The repair work had yet to start in earnest as they had to source new sails and Niall was reluctant to do that until the culprit had been found and dealt with.

Somebody cleared their throat and Charlie turned to see Niall standing behind her. There were dark circles under his eyes as though he hadn’t slept well and his hair was a riot of tangles and snarls, giving him a tousled appearance.

Her heart lifted at the sight of him. “Niall! Come look!”

She took his arm and guided him over to where the walls of the house were being built. “The foundations are in and the walls are going up. If it carries on at this speed, they’ll be ready to start putting the roof joists on by the end of the week!” She couldn’t keep the excitement from her voice and practically bounced on her toes as she pointed out how they were laying the bricks and securing them with mortar.

Niall smiled at her enthusiasm. “Who would have thought someone could get so excited about bricks?”

“It’s not the bricks and you know it,” she replied, giving him a mock-scowl. “It’s what they’ll let us create. Honestly, if the workers keep this up, I reckon we can have everyone housed before the autumn.”

His expression softened and something warm shone in his eyes. “Aye. I’ve no doubt we can. Thanks to ye.”

“Not me,” Charlie said, uncomfortable with the praise. “Knox and his team have done all the hard work and everyone you sent to help me at the pottery have made all the bricks. I just showed them what to do.”

“Oh, is that all?” he said with a grin. “And came up with the idea in the first place, and made the plan, and whipped us all into shape to get yer idea off the ground. Ye do yerself a disservice, lass. None of this would have happened without ye.”

Their eyes locked, and Charlie felt her breath hitch. He cleared his throat and looked away, his eyes scanning the bustling activity around them.

“Why are the walls doubled?” he asked after a moment.

Charlie followed the line of his gaze. She’d discussed this design with Knox and finally gotten him to see the merits of her plan. She was borrowing heavily from the future, but if it helped these people, she could live with it.

“They’re cavity walls,” she explained. “An outer and an inner skin with a gap between. It will help keep moisture out and when the gap is filled with straw, will keep the heat in much better as well.”

“I’ve never heard of such a building technique,” Niall replied. “Is this a Cardiff thing?”

“I...um...” No , she thought. It’s a twenty-first century thing. “Something like that.”

“Well, if Knox approves, who am I to argue?”

He gave a small smile but then his countenance changed and he looked away. “Charlotte,” he said quietly. “I’ve something important to discuss with ye.”

“Oh?”

Niall drew in a breath, his gaze avoiding hers as he scanned the bustling worksite. “I’ve spoken to Antonio. And it seems earlier transportation to Cardiff can be arranged for ye. The day after tomorrow, in fact.”

Charlotte’s heart stuttered, the quiet words slipping into her mind like a thief, stealing away the joy of the afternoon. A silence stretched between them, filled with the distant noise of construction and laughter.

“The day after tomorrow?”

Niall nodded, his gaze still averted. “Aye. I thought it would be good news for ye.”

Shouldn’t it be? Cardiff was her home. She’d been yearning to return ever since she’d found herself here. But now that the prospect was real, she felt a painful little pang go through her.

“But...but I’ve so much work left here! The houses are just starting to go up, and the pottery...” Her voice trailed off as she saw the determined look on Niall’s face.

“Ye’ve done more than enough,” he said gently. “We can manage from here. Yer family must be missing ye.”

He was right, of course. She had a life back in Cardiff—a job she loved, friends and family who might be worried about her sudden disappearance. She should be relieved. But looking at the bustling construction site, the half-built cottage that was shaping up nicely under Knox’s stern supervision, and the people— her people now—who worked tirelessly, something tugged at her heart.

And when she looked at Niall...

Oh, when she did that, the tug in her heart became a burning ache. Because returning home meant leaving this place behind.

Leaving him behind.

“I don’t understand,” she said. “What’s changed?”

She’d thought they’d been getting close, beginning to open up to each other. Had she really misread him so badly?

Something flickered in Niall’s gaze and he looked away. His shoulders were tensed, his jaw tight, as he said, “New information.”

“New information? What does that mean?”

He glanced at her and away again. He didn’t seem able to meet her gaze.

Charlie frowned. “What aren’t you telling me?”

“Nothing!” he snapped. “I thought ye wanted to go home? I thought ye’d be pleased!”

Pleased? she thought. No, I’m not pleased. And that’s as scary as hell.

“I am,” she lied. “It’s just...it’s just come a bit suddenly, is all.”

“Aye, well,” Niall said gruffly. “It’s for the best.” Then, before she could say anything else, he muttered, “I have work to do.”

He walked away without another word. Charlie watched him go, her stomach churning. After a moment, she turned and marched off in the opposite direction, striding up the hill towards the scaffolded remains of the windmill.

There she found Antonio and his team trying to salvage what they could of the sails and taking careful measurements for replacements for those they couldn’t.

The jovial Italian smiled as he spotted Charlie approaching. “My dear!” he cried. “Come to see the masters at work, eh?”

“Something like that,” Charlie replied. “Although, I really came to ask you a question.”

“Oh?” Antonio said, his bushy eyebrows rising. “That sounds serious.”

“Niall tells me we’re going to leave the day after tomorrow.”

“Aye, that’s right!” Antonio laughed. “Niall has requested we postpone our current commitments and escort you home.” He leaned forward and winked conspiratorially. “And he’s offered enough coin that no self-respecting merchant could refuse! And besides, it will give me the opportunity to investigate new trading opportunities as we travel.”

Charlie blinked, momentarily shocked into silence. Niall had arranged this? Niall had arranged for her to leave early? He really did want to get rid of her?

She suddenly felt like she had a bowling ball sitting in her stomach. He wanted her gone. He wanted her gone so badly that he was willing to pay god-knows-how much just to be rid of her.

What a fool she’d been. What an idiot to think there might be something between them. Hadn’t she always been the cynical one? The one skeptical of emotional entanglements? So what the hell had changed?

Niall Campbell, that’s what. He’d begun breaking down the walls she’d constructed around her heart and despite her better judgment, she hadn’t been able to stop him.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

The hurt and disappointment turned suddenly into anger. Niall had lied to her. He didn’t even have the decency to tell her the truth, to tell her that he wanted her out of his life, instead coming up with some vague excuse.

Damn him. Who the hell did he think he was?

Well, if he thought she was just going to meekly accept whatever bullshit he fed her, he had better think again!

She walked off. Behind her, she heard Antonio shouting for her but she ignored him. She marched back down the hill, past the building site, past the crofts and cottages, and through the gates to the manor house.

She barged through the heavy wooden doors, her heart thundering in her chest. Clenching her fists, she hurried up the staircase two steps at a time.

Turning a corner, she arrived at his study. The heavy wooden door stood slightly ajar. She hesitated for a second, then pushed it open with more force than necessary.

The room was filled with the scent of old parchment. Light streamed in through the tall windows overlooking the courtyard, casting long shadows on the thick rug. His desk was cluttered with papers and maps, ink pots and quills scattered haphazardly around.

But it was empty, with no sign of Niall.

Her frustration deflated slightly at the lack of a target for her anger. Fine. She would just have to wait. She threw herself into the chair behind the desk, drumming her fingers on the arms and glaring at the door.

Her eye was caught by the mess of papers sprawled across the desk. In fact, the whole study was a little on the chaotic side and she guessed Niall didn’t allow Flora to tidy in here. If he did, there was no way the housekeeper would let it get like this.

She noticed a figurine sitting on a small side table on the other side of the room. Unlike the rest of the room, the side table was clean and tidy and the figurine gleamed as if freshly polished. Charlie got up from her seat and walked over to examine it.

The figurine was about a foot high and depicted a female rider astride a rearing horse. It was made from fired clay but had been carved and worked to such a degree that its detail was exquisite. Charlie could see the muscles beneath the coat of the horse and the woman’s hair billowed back from her face in an unseen wind.

The little pedestal on which the figurine sat bore a name and date carved into it. Arabella Campbell, 1675.

Niall’s mother had made this? No wonder he kept it so clean and well cared for. If the workmanship of this piece was anything to go by, his mother had obviously been an accomplished sculptor as well as a potter.

Charlie reached out and ran her fingertip over the haunches of the rearing horse, appreciating the elegantly carved and molded lines. As she did so, the sculpture shifted on the pedestal slightly. Charlie heard a ‘click’ and a little draw she’d not seen before opened in the base of the side table.

She blinked in surprise. On the outside, there was no indication that the little table had a drawer built into it and she would never have known it was there if she hadn’t moved the sculpture to release it. A secret drawer? What was Niall hiding in there? Bags of money? Stacks of jewels?

But no, as she leaned down to look, she saw that the drawer was stuffed full of parchments and letters no different to the mess that covered the desk.

No. Wait. These letters did look a little different. Instead of being written in a language she recognized, these pages were full of symbols and patterns that made no sense.

She reached out, her fingers running over the rough parchment of one of the letters. The seal was broken and it looked like it had been read several times.

Gibberish , she thought. Why does Niall have letters that are unreadable?

Her curiosity piqued, she took a handful of the papers and carried them over to the desk. Laying them out flat on the smooth wooden surface, she examined the strange marks, squinting at the alien symbols. The symbols looked meaningless but she sensed they weren’t. There was a pattern to the markings as if they represented...

“Words,” Charlie breathed in sudden understanding.

They were coded letters.

She skimmed over the symbols again. They were arranged neatly into rows and columns, a pattern of dots and dashes and strange glyphs that made no sense to her.

But if it was a code, there should be a key.

She returned to the secret drawer and pulled it open, revealing a small wooden box tucked at the bottom, beneath the papers. Inside was an old, worn piece of parchment with lines of symbols and corresponding letters beneath them—a cipher.

She should not be doing this. She should not be rummaging through Niall’s private things. And yet, this might be her only chance to unravel the truth.

She took out the cipher key and spread it next to the strange letters. Slowly, she began to decipher them. The letters spoke of secret rendezvous and clandestine missions. They mentioned shadowy figures and their movements. There were detailed accounts of unexpected alliances formed, and possible betrayals being planned.

She came to the last letter, and as she painstakingly decoded it and read the contents, her hands began to shake. It commanded Niall to ensure that a certain ‘liability’ was safely escorted out of the region and sent south, before his mission could be put at risk.

Was that liability her? And what was this ‘mission’?

The sound of heavy footsteps made her hair stand on end. She hurried to stuff the cipher back into the draw and rearrange the letters, but she wasn’t quick enough. The door swung open, revealing Niall standing in the doorway. His eyes narrowed as he spotted Charlie in his chair.

“What are ye doing in here?” he growled.

“You lied to me!” she accused, her anger lending strength to her voice.

Niall’s eyebrows drew together in confusion. “What are ye talking about?”

“Don’t play innocent with me!” she snapped. “ You arranged for Antonio to take me away. You paid him off! And you didn’t even have the decency to tell me the truth!”

Something flickered in Niall’s eyes—surprise? Guilt? But it was gone as soon as it appeared. Instead, his gaze fell to the letter dangling from her hand.

His expression hardened. “I’ll ask ye again: what are ye doing in here?”

“Looking for you, obviously!” she retorted.

“Ye have been going through my things.” He said it quietly, his voice hard and cold. “Why have ye been going through my things?”

“Because I wanted the truth!” she snapped. “And I knew damned well you wouldn’t tell me!” She brandished the letter. “What the hell is this, Niall? What are you involved in?”

Niall snatched the letter from her hand. His eyes flickered over it quickly before he crumpled it and tossed it onto the desk.

“This is none of yer concern.”

“Really? I beg to differ,” she fired back. “Especially when I’m being referred to as a ‘liability’ who needs to be sent away!”

His eyes narrowed, flaring with suspicion. “Ye decoded it? Damn it woman, ye had no right! Ye shouldnae have been snooping!”

“Maybe not,” she retorted, her anger making her reckless. “But maybe if you’d been honest with me in the first place, I wouldn’t have had to.”

Niall clenched his jaw. “Honest with ye? Ye say that to me? When ye have avoided my questions and told me next to nothing about yerself?” He walked up to the other side of the desk and glared at Charlie, suddenly intimidating.

“So if it’s honesty ye want, then how about we start with ye? Who are ye really? Why were ye in Edinburgh and why did ye pretend to be the Countess of Argyle?”

Charlie stared at him. That again? They’d been through this! “I told you! I was in Edinburgh to meet my cousin for a dress fitting. That’s where she’s getting married! And I didn’t mean to pose as anyone. The guy on the door got my name wrong, that’s all.”

“That’s all?” he murmured. “Then how come this cousin of yers never showed? How come that shop ye took me to wasnae a dress shop at all? How come Lady Murray sent her men after ye?” He placed his hands on the table and leaned forward, anger flashing in his emerald eyes. “And how come ye are able to recognize coded letters and know how to break those codes? Not a usual skill for a lady, wouldnae ye say?”

She swallowed hard, looking into his eyes. They were stormy and filled with distrust. She had come here to have it out with him, but not like this. She hadn’t come here expecting to discover his secrets and risk her own in the process.

“I...I can explain,” she said, though she wasn’t sure she could. She’d gotten herself into a mess and she wasn’t sure how to get out of it.

“Go on then,” Niall said, his voice dangerously low. “I’m waiting.”

“I read about codes,” she blurted. “In books.”

“Books?”

“Thriller novels. My favorite genre. Especially ones about espionage.” Oh God, what was she doing? She was starting to babble and only dig herself in deeper.

“Who sent ye?” he demanded.

“I’m sorry?”

“I said,” Niall repeated in a deathly quiet voice she’d never heard from him before. “Who sent ye? Who are ye working for? To think I almost fell for it! To think I trusted ye!” There was anger in his voice now but hurt as well.

“What do you mean? I don’t work for anyone! Nobody sent me! I’m just trying to get home like I told you!”

His eyes narrowed, his gaze locking onto hers in a piercing stare. “And why should I believe ye?”

“Why shouldn’t you?” she retorted, pulse racing. “I haven’t done anything to make you doubt me!”

“Ye’ve infiltrated my life,” he accused, his voice filled with a cold fury that sent chills down her spine. “Ye’ve gained my confidence and now ye’ve violated my privacy. Ye’ve seen things ye had no right to see!”

“I didn’t infiltrate anything!” she exclaimed, rising from her seat. She felt cornered, her back against the wall. “I was just trying to survive after a mix-up at the door of a stupid party!”

He leaned in closer, his brow furrowed in suspicion. “And yet here ye are, decoding secret messages in my study.”

“I didn’t know they were secret,” she said defensively. “I thought they were just gibberish!”

Niall let out a humorless laugh. “Gibberish that ye conveniently knew how to decode? God help me, I’ve been so stupid!”

She sucked in a breath. “Niall, listen to me. I don’t know what’s going on here but this is all getting mixed up. I’m sorry I read your letters but I thought they might help me understand why you’re sending me away!”

“I was sending ye away for yer own safety!” Niall countered sharply. He straightened up and began to pace the room, his boots echoing loudly against the stone floor. “I’ve been trying to protect ye from all this! But ye... ye just had to dig deeper, didnae ye?”

“I didn’t ask for your protection,” she shot back, her fear replaced by a surge of anger. “I can take care of myself!”

“Aye,” he growled, spinning around to face her. “I’ve no doubt ye can. Ye are clearly one of the rebellion’s best trained spies if ye are able to slip through my defenses like this. Tell me, were ye here to gather information? Or just to slip a knife between my ribs while I slept?”

Charlie stared at him, horrified. “No! How can you think such a thing? I’m no damned spy! I know nothing about any rebellion. I’m not from this country, remember? Hell, I’m not even from this damned century!”

Charlie froze, her heart leaping into her mouth. Shit. Oh, shit. Why had she just said that? She hadn’t meant to, but the words were out of her mouth before she could stop them.

Niall stopped his pacing and stared at her. “What did ye just say?”

Charlie swallowed. She considered back-tracking, making up some kind of excuse, but from the way Niall was staring at her, his eyes narrowed in suspicion, she knew the time for lies was over. She was already deep in the mire.

Oh, hell. She forced herself to meet his gaze. “I said, I’m not from this time. That’s why I’ve been so evasive. I’m not a spy or a rebel or whatever else you seem to think I am. I’m a time traveler.”

There. She’d said it. She watched Niall warily, trying to gauge his reaction.

He stared at her, his face unreadable. The room was eerily silent save for the roaring of Charlie’s blood in her ears. It felt like an eternity passed before he finally opened his mouth to speak.

“A time traveler?” he repeated slowly, his voice barely more than a whisper.

Niall let out a small huff of air, as if he had been holding his breath. He ran a hand through his hair before pressing the heels of his palms into his eyes as if trying to banish some terrible sight. When he dropped his hands and looked at her again, the anger was gone, replaced by something much softer yet equally intense.

“Ye really expect me to believe this?”

Charlie knew it sounded crazy. If she were in his shoes, she would probably respond the same way. “I know how it sounds,” she said. “But it’s the truth. I swear.”

He was silent, studying her with an appraising look that sent shivers down her spine. He seemed to be weighing her words, considering their validity against the backdrop of everything that had happened.

“And how is it ye’ve managed this miraculous feat of time travel?” he asked finally, his tone measured but skeptical.

“I...don’t know,” she whispered.

Suddenly, the enormity of her situation smacked into her with the force of a tidal wave. Since coming here, getting to know Niall, Flora, Joseph and the others, since setting up the pottery and starting to find her place, she’d managed to keep the terror at bay. She’d managed to convince herself that everything was going to be all right. But was it? Really?

Niall crossed his arms over his broad chest and said nothing. Waiting.

Charlie swallowed. “It was raining. I took refuge in an old bookshop. But somehow I ended up getting locked in when they closed up for the evening. Then I heard laughter, talking, music and thought there was a party going on next door.”

She stared into the middle distance as she saw it all unfolding in her mind’s eye. “I came to a door and assumed it led to the bookshop owner’s apartment. I just wanted them to let me out so I could go back to my hotel. There was this strange swirly stuff in the doorway like when you have a bonfire and the air above it goes all wavy. But I stepped through anyway. I found where they were having the party and asked this guy to show me the way out. But he didn’t do that. Next thing I know he’s introducing me as the Countess of Argyle and I’m surrounded by all these people in weird clothes like something out of a period drama. It was crazy. Just crazy.” She shook her head at the memory and looked up at Niall. “The rest, you know.”

Niall remained silent, his gaze never leaving Charlie’s face. The air felt heavy between them, as if the room held its breath.

Charlie bit her lip nervously, unsure of what to do next. Was he considering the possibility of her story or was he just figuring out how best to deal with a madwoman?

“I... I know how it sounds,” Charlie whispered. “If you want to think I’m crazy, or lying, go ahead. I can’t change what I know is true.”

“I dinna think ye are lying,” Niall said quietly after a moment, breaking the tense silence. “I’ve met enough liars in my life to know when someone’s telling the truth.” He looked at her. “Or when they think they are, at least.”

“Oh, so you think I’m insane, is that it? That I’ve imagined it all?” She scowled. “I think I’d rather be called a liar.”

“Nay,” he said, holding up a hand to stave off her rising indignation. “I dinna think ye’re mad either.” He paused, staring out the window before turning back to her. “Maybe I’ve spent too much time listening to the old tales and legends of my people. Maybe I’m just desperate enough to believe in something...anything that might offer some hope.” He gave a bitter laugh. “God help me, I must be going mad myself.”

Charlie blinked at him, stunned. “You...believe me?”

“I didnae say that,” he said quickly. “But I’m willing to entertain the possibility. For now.” He studied her face. “But none of this makes sense.”

“Tell me about it,” she muttered. “It was a perfectly normal day until that old woman showed up. All the weirdness started with her.”

Niall glanced at her sharply. “What old woman?”

“One of the customers in the shop. She just appeared out of nowhere, told me I had a destiny and that I had to choose the right path—whatever that is—along with a lot of other nonsense, and then walked off. She was probably a bit cracked and I know I should have ignored her but I felt a little weird after that—and then things only got weirder. Are you all right?”

Niall was staring at her, his face pale. “Did that old woman give ye her name?”

“Irene,” Charlie replied. “She said her name was Irene—”

“MacAskill,” Niall finished for her.

Charlie cocked her head. “That’s right. How did you know that?”

Niall went even paler. He rubbed his hands down his face and blew out his cheeks. The suspicion was gone from his eyes and now he looked wary. Afraid, even.

Charlie’s heart began to thump again. She’d never seen that look in Niall’s eyes before. “How do you know that, Niall?”

“Because...” he began. He hesitated. “Because I saw her too. She was at Lady Murray’s ball and she said similar things to me.”

“That’s...that’s not possible,” Charlie stammered.

“Isnae it? Ye’ve just told me that ye are from the future. Isnae that impossible?”

“But...but...” Charlie struggled to process this new piece of information. It had never entered her head that the strange old woman she’d met in an Edinburgh bookshop might have something to do with her trip to the past. How could it? She was just an eccentric old lady. Wasn’t she?

Niall began pacing, his movements restless. “She was a stranger to me, that night at the ball. She approached me and said things I couldnae understand then. I thought her just another eccentric Edinburgh noblewoman.”

His features contorted with frustration, and Charlie could see him wrestling with his thoughts. “She spoke of the balance,” he finally admitted, turning back to face Charlie. “She said someone would come. Someone who would...” He trailed off and began pacing again.

Charlie swallowed hard. She felt nauseous, panic creeping into the edges of her vision. Irene had known about her journey before it even happened. Was it possible that this eccentric old woman had something to do with her time traveling? The thought was both absurd and terrifying.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” she asked.

“Tell ye?” Niall asked incredulously. “Why would I? I didnae have a clue about any of this. Why didnae ye tell me any of this earlier?”

“Are you serious?” she asked, her eyebrows rising. “It’s hardly the thing you drop into conversation is it? ‘Oh by the way, just to let you know, I’m a time traveler from the twenty-first century. Is that okay?’ You would have thought I was delusional or worse! And besides, I barely knew you. I didn’t know how you would react. And I didn’t...trust you. Not then.”

He stopped his pacing and turned to her. There was an oddly vulnerable expression on his face. “And now?” he asked softly. “Do ye trust me now?”

His eyes were bright with reflected sunlight and his hair was sticking out in all directions from how he’d been tugging at it. Yet the sight of him was enough to stir something inside her, something she couldn’t quite explain. He’d kept things from her, that was true. But hadn’t she also kept things from him? The most important things about herself?

She looked at him, this man from a different time who had somehow become an integral part of her life. She thought about how he’d stood by her when she’d been so disorientated in Edinburgh, how he’d defended her in front of Boyd MacAllister. He’d been there for her, despite his own doubts and suspicions.

And now, he was willing to entertain the idea that she was from another time because he trusted her enough to believe that she wouldn’t lie about something so important. She felt a strange warmth blooming in her chest as she realized that yes, despite everything, she did trust him.

“Yes,” she said finally, her voice barely more than a whisper. “Yes, I trust you.”

Niall stared at her for a second before nodding slowly. He exhaled deeply as though releasing all the tension that had gathered in his body. “All right then. Let’s see if we canna get this figured out.”

He strode to a bookshelf in the corner and took down a heavy, leather-bound tome. The front cover with stamped with a stylized impression of some kind of bird of prey. He put the book down on the desk and opened it.

Charlie came to stand next to him. The pages weren’t paper, she realized, but parchment, and were yellow with age. A flowing hand-written script filled the pages, so flowery and elegant that Charlie struggled to decipher it. Niall, though, began reading avidly.

“What is that?” she asked. “What are we looking at?”

He glanced at her. “When I was a lad, my grandfather used to tell my brothers and me stories. Fanciful stories about magical creatures and fairy glens and places where the boundaries of the world are thin. I loved those stories. He also told me that in times gone by, my ancestors were part of a secret society that worked in concert with such creatures to protect Alba. They were called the Order of the Osprey.”

“Wait,” Charlie said. “The design on the cover. That looked like an osprey.”

Niall nodded. “Aye. My grandfather left me this book when he died. It’s a collection of stories about the Order of the Osprey. And some of them talk about time travel.”

Intrigued, Charlie stepped closer. Ink drawings and elaborate decoration bordered the pages. Whoever had written this, they had spent much time and effort to record the exploits of this Order of the Osprey.

“Until now, these were just tales my grandfather told me when I was a lad,” Niall said, his voice laced with a wistful tone. “Legends and myths to entertain a young boy. Time travel, magical creatures...it all seemed so fanciful then.”

His eyes were trained on the pages of the book, but Charlie could see his mind was far away. She imagined him as a young boy, sitting at his grandfather’s knee, wide-eyed and enraptured by these fantastic stories. It made her heart ache in an odd, unexpected way.

“But how is this related to Irene?” she asked.

Niall continued turning the pages, his eyes scanning the words. “Aha!” he said. “This is it.” He leaned closer, reading closely. “This is the one I remember the best, the one that stuck in my head. It says there was a guardian, a fae creature of immense power who had the ability to manipulate time itself. She was known as the Guardian of the Highlands, tasked with maintaining the balance of our world.”

Charlie felt a shiver run down her spine. “Irene?”

Niall nodded slowly. “According to these stories, she would only appear when the balance was threatened or if a great shift was about to occur.”

“But why me? Why now?” Charlie asked.

Ye are far from where ye are meant to be, and drifting further every day the more ye close yer heart.

Irene’s words had made no sense at the time and they made no sense now. What had Irene meant?

Her eyes wandered back to Niall. He was watching her with that deep gaze of his and she felt something shift inside her. It was difficult to describe, like something within her...aligned.

Will ye stay on this path, the one of cynicism and loneliness, or will ye take a chance and walk the path that will lead ye to the one who will help ye open yer heart and heal .

Irene couldn’t have been talking about Niall, could she? He couldn’t be the reason she’d brought her back here? Charlie blocked that thought out, unwilling to follow where it might lead.

Niall looked away suddenly, his gaze going far away. “Times of great trial,” he muttered under his breath. “Times when the balance is threatened.” He fell silent.

“What is it?” Charlie asked. “What are you thinking?”

He shook his head. “I...dinna know. So much has been lost. So much of what the Order once knew is gone. I feel like I’m blundering in the dark.”

Charlie snorted. “Join the club. But I still don’t get how a little old lady can travel through time?”

“I dinna think she’s a little old lady at all. According to my grandfather’s stories, she’s one of the Fae.”

Charlie blinked at him, startled. “A Fae? Like, a fairy? You think Irene is a fairy?”

He shrugged, a slight smile playing on his lips. “Ye’ve traveled through time, lass. Is it so hard to believe in fairies?”

She opened her mouth to reply, but closed it again without saying anything. After everything she’d experienced, who was she to dismiss the existence of mythical beings?

Charlie took a step back, trying to absorb this new piece of information. This was far beyond anything she could have anticipated—a journey into an old legend, into a tale spun by the fireside. Her legs wobbled a little and she sat down in Niall’s chair.

He thumped the book shut, looking at her with concern. “Are ye all right, lass?”

“Fine. It’s just...it’s just...you don’t know how good it feels not to hide this anymore. I hadn’t realized how hard it was to keep secrets.”

“Aye,” he said softly. “Secrets are a burden that weigh us down. Sometimes they get so heavy ye can barely lift yer feet.”

She got the feeling he wasn’t talking about Irene MacAskill or time travel this time.

“Wait,” he said suddenly as if a thought had just occurred to him. “Ye are from Cardiff, aye? But not this Cardiff? The Cardiff of the twenty-first century?”

Charlie nodded. “That’s right. I flew up here.”

“Flew?”

“On a plane. Big metal contraptions that move through the sky.”

Niall’s eyes widened. Then he shook his head. “Well, however ye got here, what I’m wondering is why ye are so keen to return? From what ye tell me, yer movement through time occurred here, in Scotland. So if ye return to Cardiff, ye will just be returning to the Cardiff of my time, surely? I mean, I dinna understand all this time travel business. But if ye moved through time here in Scotland, surely it’s here that ye need to stay? Trying to return to Cardiff may not solve anything.”

The world seemed to tilt on its axis. The walls of the room swirled around her and she felt as if she were falling into a deep pit. She clutched at the edge of the desk, her knuckles white with the strain as she realized he was right.

Some part of her had known this, of course. But she’d buried that part, refusing to acknowledge it whilst clinging onto the one hope she had. Get home. Figure it all out from there.

But it had been a foolish, irrational hope.

“Maybe this is where ye are meant to be, lass,” Niall said softly.

Ye are far from where ye are meant to be, and drifting further every day the more ye close yer heart.

Could Niall be right?

“But...but...” she stammered. “How do I get home then?”

Niall shook his head. “I dinna know. But we’ll figure it out.” He walked over to her and perched on the desk by her side. “From my grandfather’s stories of the Fae, there is always a purpose to what they do. If Irene MacAskill brought ye here, it’s for a reason. Perhaps if we figure that out then we’ll find how to send ye home. Until then?” He watched her intently and she felt that little flip in her stomach again. “Until then ye will stay here. With me.”

He was so close that she could smell the pine-resin scent of his hair and see the tiny laughter lines at the corners of his eyes.

With me.

“So you’re not going to pack me off with Antonio then?”

He grimaced. “I didnae handle that very well, did I? I’m sorry, lass. I shouldnae have listened to them.”

“Listened to who?”

His eyes flicked to the coded letters on the table but he didn’t answer her question. “I’ll tell Antonio that the deal is off.”

He made to move away but Charlie grabbed his wrist. “Listened to who?” she repeated. “Niall, what is going on? Who told you to send me away? Why are you receiving coded letters? You asked if I trusted you? Well, now I’m asking you to do the same. Do you trust me? If so, trust me enough to tell me the truth.”

She had laid herself bare, told him everything, made herself vulnerable. Would he be willing to do the same?

We’ll figure this out together. But how could they do that if he kept secrets?

Niall looked down at her fingers wrapped around his wrist. Slowly, he reached out and placed his hand over hers. His was so large it engulfed hers easily.

“I...” he began. “There’s a lot about me that ye dinna know.”

“Oh, you think?” Charlie said, raising an eyebrow. “That much is obvious. You’re two different people, Niall Campbell. The charming aristocrat. The hard-working laird. Which one are you really, I wonder?”

He smiled wryly. “Can I not be both?”

She cocked her head. “Perhaps. Although I don’t think that’s your truth. I think you play at one to hide the other.”

He was silent, studying her face with an intensity that made her feel naked. “And which one do ye suppose I’m hiding, lass?”

There was a challenge in his gaze, and Charlie felt the spark of it deep within her. She had never been one to back down from a challenge, and this one was far too intriguing to resist.

“Just tell me, Niall,” she pleaded softly. “Tell me who you really are.”

He sighed deeply, his expression unreadable. “I’m not sure I even know that myself anymore.”

She picked up one of the coded letters. “Well you can start by explaining this.”

He blew out a breath then pinched the bridge of his nose. Then he straightened and faced her.

“I dinna know how much ye know of our history,” he said. “But the last few years have been...hard.” His eyes went distant, as if he was looking into a past that was painful to recall. “Seven years of ill fortune, lass. Seven years of failed harvests and relentless weather that tore at our lands and homes with the ferocity of a wild beast.”

His voice held an undercurrent of something dark, something deeply personal. Charlie watched him as he spoke, her heart aching at the pain etched on his face.

“We had what seemed like endless rains. The crops rotted in the fields before they could be harvested. The animals died off and those that didn’t were too weak to provide us with the sustenance we needed. The earth itself seemed to turn against us, refusing to yield crops no matter how hard we labored.”

Charlie reached out and touched his hand, unsure of what to say or do. She wanted to comfort him somehow, to ease the pain. Niall’s gaze snapped back to her at her touch. He blinked as if coming back from a dark place and managed a small smile.

“We lost many during those years,” he admitted softly. His eyes were filled with an unspoken grief that Charlie could only begin to comprehend.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, squeezing his hand gently.

He gave a tired shrug, looking away again. “But we endured. We always do. But now those days are finally passing and the crown seeks a way to ensure they never return.” He turned to look at her. “We have been in royal union with England ever since King James took the English throne after Elizabeth. Now there is talk of taking things further, of a political union of the English and Scottish parliaments. As ye can imagine, such talk has divided opinion. There are those who support such a union and those who oppose it.”

“And which are you?”

He sighed. “I dinna care for politics. I have no interest in who sits on the throne or which nobles sit in parliament. What I care about are my people and ensuring that we never go back to the seven ill years that have just passed. For that we need trade, we need new ways of farming, new industries and training for our people.” He met her gaze. “The Articles of Union will give us that.”

“So you support it?”

“I do, although that is not common knowledge.” He gave a wry smile. “I’m the drunken womanizer, remember? I have no interest in anything beyond satisfying my debauched desires.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. He was far more complex than she had ever imagined. “So that’s why you keep a townhouse in Edinburgh and act so different when you’re there? To keep everyone guessing?”

“Aye.”

She remembered suddenly what she’d seen in the botanical gardens in Edinburgh, the two crowds of people and the pamphlets they were giving out. It all started to make sense. “But why the secrecy? If you believe in this cause, why not be open about it?”

“Because that would blow my cover.”

He gazed at her as if deciding how much he could tell her. Then he blew out a long breath. “I’m a government agent, lass. I work for the crown. It’s my job to root out rebellion.”

She shook her head in disbelief. “And here I thought you were just a playboy laird.”

He gave a soft laugh. “I’m sorry to have disappointed you.”

“You didn’t,” she said, her hand tightening around his. “Actually, it’s quite the opposite. I...” She hesitated, unsure how to put her thoughts into words. She looked down at the coded letters again. “So, these letters...”

“Are from my employers. It’s how we communicate.”

“So they’re the ones who told you to get rid of me?”

“Aye. After that pamphlet came out about...us...they thought ye were bringing too much attention to my door.”

“And now?”

He cocked his head. “Now I dinna give two figs what they think.”

“Thank you,” Charlie said softly.

“For what?”

“Everything. For not leaving me stranded in Edinburgh, for giving me a place to stay, for not sending me away with Antonio.” She looked at him. “For trusting me with the truth.”

His eyes softened, and he gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “Ye are welcome, lass.”

She found herself unable to look away, captured by the intensity of his gaze.

“Charlotte,” he said, his voice barely more than a whisper.

“Yes?” she replied, equally softly.

Wordlessly, he leaned in, closing the distance between them. It was agonizingly slow, each inch closer seeming to take an age. And then their lips met and the world exploded in a riot of sensations.

His kiss was soft and sweet at first, a mere brush of lips that sent shivers down her spine. But as she responded, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him closer, it quickly deepened.

His hand cupped her cheek, his fingers threading through her hair to hold her close as he explored her mouth with a slow, deliberate passion that set every nerve in her body alight. His other arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her closer until there was no space left between them. She could feel the heat of his body against hers, the hard muscles under his shirt making her head spin.

Niall tasted of the earth and sky, of whisky and the cool Scottish breeze. His touch was insistent yet gentle, so very different from the man he portrayed himself to be in public. This was the real Niall Campbell—passionate, intense, an undeniable force of nature.

She lost herself in the sensation of his body pressed against hers, the taste of him on her lips and the sound of his heartbeat in her ears. She hadn’t realized how much she’d wanted this until now. How much she’d wanted him.

There was a sudden knock on the door.

“Niall?” came Flora’s voice. “My laird?”

Niall released her and stepped quickly away. Charlie tried to gather herself and smooth down her dress just as the door opened and Flora came into the room carrying a tray.

She stopped dead when she saw Charlie. Niall had retreated to the fireplace and was leaning against it nonchalantly, as if they hadn’t almost been caught going at it.

From the way Flora’s eyes narrowed slightly, Charlie wasn’t sure the housekeeper was fooled. If they wanted to dampen the rumors caused by that pamphlet, this was not the way to do it. Her gaze slid to Niall.

I wouldnae mind if the rumors were true.

His face was slightly flushed and the heat that had blazed in Charlie’s stomach at their kiss hadn’t gone away. She found herself wishing the housekeeper would leave so she and Niall could pick up where they’d left off.

“My apologies,” Flora said. “I didnae realize ye were busy. I’ve bought ye some tea. And a message from Joseph to say that a new message has arrived from...” Her eyes flicked to Charlie. “Well, from the usual place.”

The usual place? Did Flora mean Niall’s employers? He gave Charlie a look full of heat and longing. Then he sighed.

“Fine. I’m coming.”

Giving Charlie one last, lingering look, he followed the housekeeper from the room.