Page 28 of The Story of his Highland Bride (Dancing Through Time #4)

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T he heavy rain poured down relentlessly that evening as Charlotte Nelson walked around her spacious healing room, singing softly to herself. She squashed the herbs in her bowl harder, added a little water, and glanced over her shoulder at the injured guard sitting in the room watching her. Charlotte continued whipping the content of the bowl she held, and she lifted it to her nostrils for a second to inhale the scent of the herbs she was mixing.

“Almost done,” she said when he returned her smile, then focused on her task again. The air around her smelled comforting and earthy, with hints of sage and rosemary. She turned and walked over to the soldier after she mixed some lavender oil she had extracted earlier into the bowl she held. “This will take care of the rash, and the tonic will be for the pain around your wound.”

The man lifted the sleeve of his leine to allow her access to the cut on his arm. He thanked her in Gaelic, his accent thick and voice echoing around the empty room. “Ye are very kind, miss,” he added in deep-accented English. “Thank ye for what ye have done for me and my men. Without yer help, we might have died.”

“Oh, it’s naythin’. I’d do anythin’ to care for the people here,” she answered and moved away from the man. “You just make sure to keep that wound dry, so you don’t have to come back here, aye?”

“Aye, I will,” he answered. The man was on his feet now, and Charlotte said goodbye as he headed for the door, waving his hand at her before he finally exited. She was still smiling when the wooden door bounced close behind him, and she exhaled a deep breath before moving to clean up her table.

Charlotte hummed to herself as she worked. The tune was one her guardian used to sing to her when she was younger. Whenever they were together in the manor, he would sing and make her listen to him. Thinking of those times now, reminded her of how much she missed Jonathan.

I still cannae believe he is gone, she thought with pain in her heart.

She had spent the entire day in her workroom, treating every villager who came to her for help. Now she was exhausted, her fingers aching from constant use, and her feet were sore from standing for long hours.

Sighing, she sat on the rocking chair near the window and stared outside, fixing her eyes on the dark clouds. Charlotte was rarely alone in her healing room. Whenever her guardian was here, he spent time with her. They worked together, laughed, and discussed many topics as she prepared herbs, and he even ensured she ate well when she let the time get away from her.

None of that was possible now. She had eaten nothing since morning because she had been needed from the moment she left her bedchamber. It was only now that she finally had some alone time that she felt the grumbling in her stomach.

I miss ye so much, Jonathan.

Not just because he would have reminded her to care for herself and not just others, but because he was the only real friend and family she had ever had. It hurt to know that she would never see his smile again.

A tear slipped down her cheek as she sat there, but a soft knock on the door interrupted more from falling. Charlotte quickly sniffed and wiped her cheek.

She walked to the door briskly and opened it, forcing on a brilliant smile because she didn’t want her patients to ever see her sad. Over the years, she had found that a cheerful heart was always the best to reassure the sick or injured.

The man on the other side of the door tipped his hat in her direction once she opened the door, and he spoke rapidly. “Good day. I’m Odhran McCain, miss. Yer guardian knew me well. I’m sure he mentioned me before.”

Charlotte did not immediately remember the name, so she paused at first, angling her head to one side as she searched her mind. “The will manager?” she asked when she suddenly remembered Jonathan had mentioned the name McCain before. She stared at the man and took in his unremarkable features. His eyes were set on hers, and he didn’t smile as he stood there patiently.

“Aye, Odhran McCain,” the man repeated.

“Oh, please, come in,” Charlotte said, then stepped away from the doorway to let him pass. The man’s clothes were only a bit dampened, making her suspect he had ridden to the manor in a carriage and not on horseback.

“I’ll make ye some tea,” she said, walking to the table. He made himself very comfortable, taking the chair where her patients sat. She watched him drop the bag he held on to the floor, then cross his legs in front of him.

Charlotte scooped some of the hot water she always left boiling on the fireplace hob and poured some into a quaich. She added her unique blend of soothing mint tea. The scent filled the air as the leaves steeped, and she let it ease the nerves that twisted inside her whenever she thought of her guardian.

Sucking a deep breath to settle herself, Charlotte took the tea to the man and placed it on the table in front of him.

He had taken off his jacket and was brushing the wrinkles from sleeves of his white leine. He gave her a shaky smile when he looked at her, and she sat on her rocking chair, linking her fingers together.

“I am sorry I have come unannounced. I was away from the clan for months and just heard about my master’s death upon my return. I am indeed sorry for yer loss, Miss Charlotte.”

Charlotte’s throat tightened instantly, and the dull, piercing ache in her heart returned. “Thank ye, sir,” she answered in a light voice. “Jonathan’s passin’ came unexpected for everyone, and the entire household is still strugglin’ to move past it. I appreciate yer condolences.”

The man sipped his tea, and she could tell he enjoyed the taste from the deep sigh she heard. He looked back at her when he set the cup on the table again. This time his intense, deep-set dark eyes merged with hers, and his brows drew together, forming a somber expression.

“I hope it is nae too soon for ye, but I have come today to discuss the instructions yer guardian left with me. It was his wish that we adhere to them faithfully if anythin’ were to happen to him.”

“Jonathan named me in his will?” Charlotte asked as she eyed him. Jonathan had never mentioned anything of the sort, and she was surprised to hear this.

“Aye, miss. He left instructions concernin’ his estate and the entirety of his properties here in Mey. I have come to share these with ye, miss.”

“I am listenin’,” she replied, leaning forward on her chair, and giving him her full attention. Charlotte crossed her ankles and linked her fingers together. She kept them on her lap, and stared at Odhran, waiting for him to continue.

Charlotte knew her guardian had been a very meticulous man. It was how he had acquired more wealth to add to his inheritance at a very young age, and even though he hadn’t any children of his own, she had known how much he loved her.

After her parents passing when she was only six, she had come to live with him in Mey, and not once had she ever wished she hadn’t. Jonathan wasn’t a blood relation, but he had been a close friend of her father’s and became her guardian when her parents died.

“There is, however, good and bad news, miss. Which would ye like me tell ye first?”

Charlotte exhaled a deep breath and made a slight hand movement as she answered. “Good news first, I think.”

The storm had slowed into a drizzle, but the gusty wind from the window she had opened earlier chilled her skin. She shivered a little but maintained a calm exterior as the man spoke.

“Yer guardian has left half of this estate and every other property to ye, and the other half to his nephew, Laird McCulloch. He also left a letter for ye. He wanted me to give it to ye after his passin’.”

The man reached into a leather bag he had set on the floor and handed her a tiny scroll. Charlotte held his eyes as she accepted the missive from him, and then she asked, “So, what is the bad news?”

“He decreed that ye must marry before either you or the laird can claim ownership. If ye do not wed, neither of ye can inherit his wealth.”

Charlotte blinked, the man’s words floating past her at first before they settled in. “I am sorry, I dinnae think I fully understand,” she said, then let out a small sigh. She knew what the man meant in the back of her mind, but she just needed to hear him repeat it.

“Yer guardian says ye must marry, else everythin’ he owned will go to charity—everythin’. If ye dinnae find a husband in the next three months, then ye willnae inherit a thin’ of what he has, and neither will his nephew.”

After he repeated himself, Charlotte’s next reaction shocked herself and the Odhran McCain because she saw his eyes widen. His lips parted from the shock also, and he stared at her as she flung her head back and burst into hearty laughter. Odhran McCain's eyes widened in shock at her odd reaction.

What in heavens name is he talking about?