Chapter 13

13

T he sun felt warm on Charlotte's skin as she watched Ben rush forward to the gardens. Alasdair walked more slowly, and she wondered if he was still sore about being coaxed outdoors. It wasn't entirely true that Orlaith had suggested the picnic. Alasdair's aunt had indeed suggested that Alasdair, Charlotte, and Ben spend more time together. The picnic was Charlotte's invention.

"Let's pick a good spot," Alasdair called out as he jogged toward his son. He ran circles around the boy, making him spin in different directions as they looked out to the grass to find a spot for the blanket Alasdair carried.

Good. They are having fun.

Alasdair opened the blanket and let it float in the air, but he first trapped Ben inside of it, letting the fabric fall over the boy's head. They laughed as Ben scampered out from underneath the blanket.

"Look what you've done," Charlotte said, looking down at the mess of hair on Ben's head, now knotted and messy from the blanket. "We just had it brushed."

"It's alright," Alasdair said, rubbing Ben on the head as he messed up his hair even more. "He looks good like that."

Charlotte rolled her eyes as she and Alasdair spread the blanket across the grass. She placed the picnic basket on the ground and tucked her legs beneath her skirts to sit down. Ben jumped onto the blanket before reaching for the basket.

"Patience, please," Charlotte pleaded. She pulled Ben's hand gently from the basket, and he sat still, pulling his hands to his lap. Charlotte began unpacking the food as Alasdair tickled his son's ear with a long piece of grass.

As he ran the grass along Ben's face, they heard a gentle squeal from the boy, so quiet Charlotte wondered if she had actually heard it. But when she looked at Alasdair, she saw him frozen, his eyes wide in surprise. He looked to Charlotte, and they shared an excited smile. Perhaps Ben was feeling more comfortable about speaking.

"Bonnie has spoiled us," Alasdair said as he observed the meat pies, bread, and cheese, fruit, and tarts Charlotte unpacked from the basket.

"I told her cheese is one of Ben's favorites," Charlotte said. She held out a wedge of some hard cheese in Ben's direction. When the boy reached for it, she pulled it away, teasing him. "It's how he earned his nickname at the orphanage."

"Nickname?" Alasdair asked. Charlotte opened her hand to let Ben take the cheese. He began nibbling on it instantly.

"Little mouse," Charlotte smiled. "Sarah used to tell Ben to watch out for any cats."

She reached over and poked Ben gently on the arm, causing the boy to squirm out of her reach. When she looked up, she caught Alasdair looking at her with a wistful expression.

"Eat up," Charlotte said, bringing her attention to the picnic basket again. She set about distributing food onto the plates, being careful that her hand did not brush up against Alasdair's.

"I guess we will need to have cheese at your party, Ben," Alasdair said.

This got a smile from Ben, who reached toward the food laid out in the center. Charlotte didn't see what he reached for, but suddenly, Alasdair's arm darted out, grabbing his son's wrist.

"Nay," he said, louder than necessary.

She was confused by Alasdair's sudden reaction.

"It is just a tart," she said gently. "Surely one won't hurt him?"

"It's the eggs," Alasdair explained, dropping Ben's hand. "They upset his stomach. At least… they used to."

Charlotte's face softened at the words. How sweet of Alasdair to remember his son's eating habits and the things that didn't agree with him.

"Try a meat pie," he said, offering the pastry to his son with a nod. Ben took it and enjoyed a large bite. They watched his eyes go round, and he suddenly returned for another bite, clearly enjoying what he had just eaten.

"Someone has his appetite back," Charlotte laughed. "I guess we can't call you the little mouse anymore. What shall your new nickname be? The hungry horse?"

She was shocked to hear a gentle giggle emerge from Ben's throat. And then he laughed, loud and long as he took his next bite of the meat pie. He seemed enormously amused by his new nickname, and Charlotte and Alasdair stared at each other as his laughter bounced through the garden. It was like neither of them could believe what they were hearing.

"I like it," Alasdair said, turning back to his son. Charlotte saw him hide his surprise, and she realized he was likely trying to act normal. Bringing attention to Ben's laughter might only discourage him. "Now give me a bit of that pie!"

Alasdair reached out in a playful gesture, attempting to take the boy's food. It had the desired effect, and Ben chuckled even louder.

The day got away from him. The sun was shining down, making him sleepy and content as he laid back with a full stomach. Alasdair spent some time staring at the clouds with Ben beside him. As the clouds floated slowly by, he pointed out shapes and animals. Sometimes Ben would point to something, and Alasdair would watch the outline of his finger, trying to guess what his son was seeing.

Meanwhile, Charlotte gathered flowers nearby, determined to bring them to Orlaith.

"Time to go in," Alasdair said as Charlotte began packing up the picnic basket. The three of them tried to fold the blanket together, but they joined the wrong corners and ended up with a strangely shaped lump of fabric. Ben laughed about it, and Alasdair felt his heart lift as he realized he would never get tired of that sound.

Orlaith appeared in the distance, waving to them from the castle entrance as they got close. Charlotte leaned down and handed the bouquet of flowers to Ben, whispering into his ear as she did so.

Ben took off, running toward Orlaith with all the enthusiasm of a seven-year-old as Charlotte and Alasdair followed behind.

"How beautiful!" Orlaith called out, and she ushered Ben inside, telling him they needed to find water for the blooms.

Meanwhile, Alasdair and Charlotte rushed forward, filled with their own youthful energy. He caught Charlotte's eye and saw the unspoken enthusiasm there. It was a face that wanted to cry out in joy over what they had just witnessed. Alasdair recognized it because he felt the same way.

He rushed forward, headed to the door that led to the kitchen. Charlotte needed to return the picnic basket, but Alasdair was desperate to talk to her. As soon as they burst through the door, he found her beaming back at him.

"Did you hear him?" she asked. "He laughed!"

"And did ye see the way he ate?" he asked, watching Charlotte nearly bounce on her toes in excitement. The picnic had been better than either of them could have imagined. Ben had blossomed, looking more and more like the happy and carefree child he used to be.

"It's like he was before the kidnapping," Alasdair said. "He's a bit closer to himself."

"He just needs time," Charlotte said, nodding her head. "A bit more time to remember this place and feel comfortable here."

They stood in a servant's hallway, a quiet path that led to the kitchen. After being out in the gardens, the room felt cool and intimate. He looked closely at Charlotte, catching the hint of a sunburn on her nose and the white of her teeth as she beamed at him. Alasdair felt overcome with happiness, filled with a sense of energy and longing he had not known before.

He stepped forward, closing the distance between them. His eyes were locked on Charlotte's blue eyes and the wisps of hair that had fallen down around her face. He heard the thud of the picnic basket as it dropped to the ground and saw Charlotte's lips part, enticing him.

"I want to kiss ye," he whispered.

The memory of Charlotte pulling away in his study was still present, challenging all of his instincts. His body was telling him that Charlotte was drawn to him. He saw it in those moist lips and the quick up and down of her chest. The woman was nearly begging to be kissed. But what if she didn't want this? Could he be misreading things again?

"Please," Charlotte whispered. She felt his hand tentatively reach out to touch his forearm. She squeezed it gently, as if testing out the feel of it.

"Please what?" Alasdair asked. He saw the fire in Charlotte's eyes, and he knew with certainty he had not been mistaken. This was a woman desperate for his touch. But still, he wanted her to say it.

"Please…" she said again. He saw Charlotte swallow hard and then, her voice still a whisper, "Kiss me."

He didn't wait. He pressed forward, and their lips collided, almost too quickly. Charlotte laughed against his mouth, but then she was serious, opening her mouth tentatively, learning how to kiss. He brought his hand to her waist and yanked her closer, letting her hips collide with his.

She gasped as she realized what was between them. She heard a gentle moan escape her lips as Alasdair's hands roamed to her backside, pulling her even closer to his arousal. She had never felt something like this from a man, and it made her fingers tingle with the shock of it.

His mouth dipped down to her jaw, and he laid kisses down her neck, sending shivers up Charlotte's back. She leaned her head further, inviting him to lick and kiss all the way down to her chest. Her own arousal was overwhelming, leading her body to move in ways she had never done before. She rocked her own hips against him, suddenly desperate to feel what she was doing to him.

His mouth moved back to her lips, but his hand replaced his lips along her neck. His hand cradled her neck as his tongue dipped into Charlotte's mouth. But it didn't stay there long. His fingers trailed down until she felt them teasing along her collar bone. It made her breath come fast as those fingers gently ran across the tops of her breasts.

She pulled back long enough to look at him, suddenly shocked by those dangerous fingers, but he only gave her a mischievous smile before dropping down below the neckline of her dress. She told herself she was too shocked to stop him, but she knew in her heart she was desperate to feel his expert fingers teasing her breasts.

She was intoxicated by the feel of it, forgetting to move her lips as he kissed her because she was so overwhelmed by the sensation. His fingers circled closer and closer until finally she felt a confident flick across the hard nub of her nipple.

Charlotte gasped and stood straight, stepping away so Alasdair's fingers were forced to disengage from her body. Hunger soared through her body, begging her to step closer, to close the gap between them once more and see how much further he would take things.

"Why do you keep kissing me?" she asked, struggling back to reality. She was buying time, trying to give her brain time to come down from the drunkenness of desire.

"Why do ye keep kissin' me back?" His smirk was filled with all the naughty thoughts she could read in his brain, an open admission of desire.

She looked away, suddenly shy beneath such an intense gaze.

"Da?"

The call stopped them, catapulting them instantly from this small hallway to the above room. It was Ben's voice! Though Charlotte had barely heard the boy speak, it was unmistakable. She looked at Alasdair as a joyful smile burst across her face.

"Did ye hear that?" Alasdair asked. He was giddy with the noise, nearly laughing in his happiness.

"Go," Charlotte urged. She began to push Alasdair away. "Go. Your son called for you."

They shared a final smile before Alasdair turned and rushed up the stairs, taking them two steps at a time.