Chapter 19

19

" R emember to be polite."

Alasdair ran a hand along his son's unruly hair, trying to calm it. Charlote had spent an hour this morning combing out all the knots, but it was hardly noticeable now. She sighed, forcing herself to accept it as it was.

Too late now.

They stood in the garden, a stiff receiving line of O'Malleys with Orlaith, Alasdair, and Ben awaiting their guests. Charlotte and Hayden also stood by, both watching Ben warily, anxious for today's celebration.

"You don't have to speak," Charlotte said, reaching over to gently squeeze his shoulder. "You can give the men a nod and the women a smile."

She watched Ben's shoulders drop at her words, visibly relaxing. She was pleased she had read his anxiety so easily and pleased she had the words to calm him. Ben still wasn't speaking. Though it had been nearly a week since the attack in his bedroom, he hadn't found his voice yet.

She knew this was frustrating for Alasdair. He had spent the past few days preparing for the event, trying to resolve last-minute problems he lacked the patience to solve. But Charlotte had never been far away, standing by to offer a quiet solution or simply to tease Ben to make him smile.

She saw Alasdair's brooding looks and his worry as he stared at his son when he thought no one was looking.

"You should smile too," Charlotte said, risking a joke with the very serious-looking Alasdair. He didn't crack a smile, but she was rewarded with a good-humored roll of his eyes.

"Charlotte!"

She looked up to see Molly entering the garden. She rushed forward, her heart nearly bursting at the sight of her friend, and the two women embraced, speaking over each other as they asked questions or commented on how long it had been. She caught sight of Molly's husband, Ciaran, standing back a bit as his wife gushed over seeing her friend.

"Come," Charlotte said, pulling Molly with her and including Ciaran in her plea. "Let me introduce you."

She walked arm-in-arm with Molly as she led the couple to Orlaith and Alasdair. She nearly stumbled over her words as she introduced the Laird and Lady of McEwan, eliciting a wry smirk from Alasdair.

"We are pleased to have ye," Alasdair said, turning his attention away from the flustered Charlotte and back to Molly and Ciaran. "Any friend of Charlotte's is a friend of ours."

She felt his eyes on her again, and she was surprised by the flush of red on her cheeks. As she dropped her gaze to the ground, Molly glanced at her, a knowing smile on her lips.

"We are pleased to be here," Ciaran said. "And pleased to celebrate the return of yer bairn."

As Ciaran and Alasdair talked clan business, Molly pulled Charlotte away, walking her into the garden as more guests began to arrive. One good thing about being a governess in this household was that no one would expect her to stand in line greeting them. She was looking forward to an afternoon with Molly when all she needed to do was watch Ben from afar.

The women found a bench to rest on. The smell of roses was strong around them, a heady, sweet smell.

"Oh, it's so good to see you," Molly said, squeezing Charlotte's arm tight. "I can't believe you're here in Scotland! You must come to our home. I can't wait to show you around."

"It would need to be in the next few days," Charlotte said. She struggled to keep the sadness out of her voice. "I leave for the orphanage soon."

"Leave?" The concept seemed shocking to Molly. She leaned back, dropping Charlotte's arm. "You can't leave. Not when you look at each other like that."

"Of course, I can," Charlotte laughed. She looked across the green, to see Alasdair's brother-in-law, Lennox, greeting the family. Behind him she saw a line of lairds and ladies she didn't know. "What are you talking about?"

"You look at Alasdair the way I look at Ciaran."

She instantly denied it, shaking her head to push Molly's words away.

"No," she said as a laugh burst from her throat. "It isn't like that between us. You love Ciaran."

"And you love Alasdair."

"No," Charlotte said again. Her friend was speaking with such certainty, it was starting to unnerve her. "I'm not in love with Alasdair. I couldn't possibly be."

"And why not?" Molly asked. "I'd say he's quite handsome if that's what you're worried about. He has a sort of… unorthodox charm."

"It's not about that," Charlotte insisted. "I have my work to worry about. That's what I love. It's the whole reason I'm here: to help Ben. I love all those children who have no one else to care for them."

For some reason the mention of the children made her wistful. She missed the quiet of the monastery and her evening cups of tea with Sarah. She was worried about the children and what they would think of her for being away for so long.

"I know you love them," Molly said, placing her hand atop Charlotte's. "It's wonderful you're giving children a better childhood—something we wished we could have."

Charlotte felt a gentle squeeze from Molly as they both took a moment to think of their past and the difficult journey it had been to get to this place.

"But tell me something. Is that what you truly want? For the rest of your life?"

She had never thought about this question. When she had the opportunity to open the orphanage, she took it enthusiastically. She had never dreamed of a different world. As a nun, she could never dream of a house or a family of her own. Could that truly be possible for her?

Just as Charlotte was about to speak, they caught Ciaran walking toward them.

"Eat up," he cried, striding toward them with a full plate of food.

"What's this?" Molly giggled. She took the plate from Ciaran along with a kiss on the cheek. Charlotte couldn't look away from the adoration she read on Ciaran's face.

"For you and the little one."

"Little one?" Charlotte asked. Excitement flooded through her as Molly nodded shyly. "You're having a baby?"

She hugged Molly to her, nearly toppling the plate of food Ciaran had so carefully prepared. As she pulled her friend close, her eyes unconsciously scanned the garden until they landed on Alasdair and Ben.

"Sounds like quite the scare you had," Lennox said, looking down at Ben. The boy was eating a sweet Orlaith had brought to him. All afternoon Alasdair had been scolding the woman for pumping the boy with sugar, but despite his protestations, he didn't really mind. He wanted Ben to enjoy this party. It was a celebration of him and his return, after all.

"Just glad to have him safe," Alasdair said. He hated to re-live the events of that night, but Lennox was Ben's uncle. He didn't feel right keeping it from him, even if it meant all of Lennox's worst opinions of Alasdair were confirmed by the story.

Alasdair pulled Ben against his side, hoping to comfort him.

"And he hasn't told ye anything?" Lennox asked. "If he would tell us where he was, we could get to the bottom of this."

"Aye," Alasdair agreed. He knew he and Lennox shared a singular desire to seek revenge on the people who had hurt Isabella and Ben. "But he's not ready yet. And I daenae wish to push him."

Alasdair steeled himself, waiting for some negative reaction from Lennox. He worried the other laird would think Alasdair soft or that he didn't have control over his son, but Lennox only nodded at him. Then he dropped down, taking a knee in front of Ben.

"Why not tell yer Uncle?" Lennox asked, and Alasdair felt his limbs go cold. "Ye can whisper to me. Just a name."

"Lennox," Alasdair said, pulling Ben closer, but the man kept going.

"Ye tell us who did this, and yer faither and I will make sure those people never harm ye again. I promise ye, Ben. One word, and ye can be sure those men have lived their last days."

"Why don't we find yer governess?" Alasdair said, forcing cheerfulness to his voice. He saw Ben look at him with hope, relieved at the mention of Charlotte. "Forgive us, Lennox, but I want to drop Ben with Charlotte."

He didn't look back at his brother-in-law. He only gave his son a comforting squeeze as he scanned the garden pathways for a sign of Charlotte.

"It's alright," Alasdair said. "Ye daenae need to speak. Ye can tell me what ye need to when ye are ready."

"There's the boy of the hour!" Orlaith called.

Charlotte followed the woman's gaze to the end of the path where Alasdair and Ben were walking to her. When Ben caught sight of her, he ran forward, and Charlotte hugged him close.

"How's it going?" Charlotte asked as Alasdair approached. She noted the way his mouth drooped down slightly, the tiredness around his eyes. "Too many people to impress?"

"Aye," he sighed. "And too many people to watch. It is exhausting wondering which one of these people might have it out for me son."

"Let's not think of that," Charlotte said. She didn't like the dark tone in Alasdair's voice, particularly in front of Ben. "I have a blanket set up for us over here. We can have another picnic."

The first picnic she had shared with Alasdair and Ben had been a rousing success, and today's was no different. The little group smiled and laughed with one another as Orlaith played the gracious host, walking around the party to talk to everyone. Charlotte smiled as she saw Orlaith in her element, friendly and excited for every new face she met.

But for Charlotte's part, she was content to stay a bit outside the celebration. And from the looks of things, Ben and Alasdair felt the same. Alasdair relaxed beside her, teasing Ben and trying to make him laugh though he never stopped his careful scanning of the guests and the way they interacted.

For his part, Ben devoured the meat pies Charlotte had requested especially for him.

"Don't eat too fast," she laughed, and she remembered her first evening with Ben when he scarfed down the food Sarah put in front of him. She smiled as she looked at him now, seeing how much healthier he looked. When Ben took a huge bite, playfully defying her words, she and Alasdair laughed at him. Anytime she looked at the Laird, she caught the twinkle of something kind and hungry in his gaze.

"Perhaps it is time to make the rounds, Me Laird ."

Orlaith was back at the blanket, suddenly standing above them. It was rare that she scolded her nephew or told him what to do, but she stared down at him with a serious expression on her face.

"I greeted everyone when they came in," Alasdair argued, eager to dismiss his aunt's concerns, but Orlaith stayed there.

"Aye," she said. "But that was before the whole party saw ye flirting with yer governess. It is time to erase some scandal."

Charlotte's eyes went round as she looked up to the crowd. As she did, she saw a handful of people instantly turn away. They had clearly been staring at them. Orlaith's chastisement and Charlotte's embarrassment led Alasdair to his feet.

"Ye stay here," he said. "Watch out for Ben."

Charlotte nodded and forced her attention to Ben, trying to ignore the eyes she felt watching her. As she talked quietly with Ben about the story he would like to read later that day, she silently prayed that she could disappear into the earth.

"Thank ye for coming."

The last of the guests were making their way out of the gardens, the cool spring air and the setting sun finally pushing them toward home. Alasdair sighed as the last of them walked away, leaving only the family in the gardens.

"I'd say that was a success," Orlaith announced.

But Alasdair only felt frustrated. He had watched dozens of men circle his gardens this afternoon, and he wasn't any closer to discovering who had kidnapped his son.

"It was a beautiful day," Charlotte agreed. Alasdair glanced at her, but he didn't let his eyes linger. He had been appropriately reprimanded by Orlaith for spending too much time with her at the party. He glanced at Lennox, wondering if the man had heard the party chatter about Alasdair's flirtatious glances with his governess.

"Goodnight, Ben," Lennox said. He bent down to pull him into a tight hug. "When ye're ready to speak, we're here."

Alasdair wanted to pull his son away from the man who seemed insistent on forcing him to speak. Was this how Alasdair had looked when he pushed Ben for information? If so, Charlotte was right to yell at him.

"If ye hear anything, let me know," Lennox asked. Alasdair nodded, and he watched the final guest cross away from the gardens.

"We made it," he sighed, smiling at Orlaith and Charlotte, but Ben walked away, headed straight inside.

"Ben?" he asked, but his son didn't turn around. He only rushed into the castle without stopping.

"Too much excitement," Charlotte explained. "There were a lot of people here today."

Alasdair had the same thought. He had sensed Ben's hesitation throughout the event, and he couldn't blame the boy for seeking some solitude.

"I'll talk to him," Alasdair nodded.

He found Ben in his bed, curled up still wearing his shoes.

"A lot of people today, weren't there?" Alasdair asked. He walked to the bed and sat, taking Ben's feet into his lap. As he spoke, he untied the laces and pulled the shoes from his feet.

"I ken it was a difficult day, but ye did very well meeting people. Nodding at the men and smiling at the women, just like Charlotte said."

Ben smiled at the mention of Charlotte, and Alasdair eased the boots off his son's feet. He helped him undress, slipping a nightshirt over his head.

"What do ye think about a story?" Alasdair asked. "Would it be alright if we read one?"

Ben nodded enthusiastically.

"The one about dragons," he pleaded, finding his voice in his excitement. Alasdair froze for a moment, wondering what to do, but then he smiled and found the book on a nearby table. He helped Ben climb under the covers, and then he sat next to him, tucking his son under his arm.

"The angry dragon's treasure was deep underground," Alasdair began.