Chapter 7

7

T he remaining two days of the journey were filled with stilted conversations and confusing interactions that left Charlotte utterly perplexed. She thought she had made good strides with Alasdair, showing him that she truly cared for Ben. And there had been the moment outside of the inn when she thought he wanted to kiss her.

But now, the man was scowling and brooding every time she looked at him. He refused to meet her eye, and he answered all of her questions with one-word grunts or silent nods. She knew something had happened that morning in the inn when Alasdair had been smiling one moment and distant the next, but she had no idea what had caused such a turn.

Charlotte spent the long rides thinking about this, and as they got closer to O'Malley castle, she grew more sick with dread. Every mile of the carriage made her more and more certain that she should turn around and go back to the orphanage.

But there was Ben to think about. Last night, when they stopped at another inn, Alasdair hadn't given the boy a choice about where he slept. Instead, he announced that Charlotte would have her own room and that no one would say anything else about it. She had tried to smile encouragingly at the boy as he was dragged away toward his father's room, tears filling his eyes.

The next day he was like a barnacle on a rock, stuck to Charlotte's side every minute of the trip. She needed to convince him to leave her alone long enough, so she could relieve herself. It made Charlotte sad to see the boy revert to this scared and nervous state, and then she got angry with Alasdair. Why couldn't he see the impact his callous decisions had on his son?

It meant that Charlotte spent the next day sending her own angry glares in Alasdair's direction. Though if he noticed anything different in her demeanor, he certainly didn't indicate it.

"Almost there," Hayden said, poking his head into the carriage where Charlotte was reading to Ben, his head heavy and lazy against her shoulder. Charlotte nodded, unable to form words. The thought of an imposing and cold Scottish castle, not to mention the Laird who would occupy it, left a pit deep in her stomach.

"All right, Ben," she said, turning to the boy. "We're going back to your old home."

For once, she couldn't read the boy's expression, but it was something between fear and excitement, an emotion Charlotte had been struggling with all too much herself.

"It may be strange to be back there," she said. "And I know the last time you were there was a scary night."

Ever since Alasdair had told her of the kidnapping, she had struggled to picture the night. She couldn't imagine how scared the little boy must have been.

"But don't worry," Charlotte said, rubbing Ben's back, "I'll be with you."

She felt warmth spread through her chest as Ben smiled at her. It was moments like these that told Charlotte she was doing the right thing by being here. They made all of Alasdair's grumpy looks seem like nothing to worry about.

"Now let's brush that hair," Charlotte suggested. "You need to look nice when you return to your castle."

The walls were so much higher than she expected. Charlotte ran her eyes up the side of the castle and felt a twinge in her neck as she bent her head backward.

"Welcome home!"

Charlotte snapped her head back to the ground to finish climbing from the carriage. She helped Ben to the ground and walked him forward to stand next to his father.

A tall, thin woman with deep red hair piled atop her head was beaming at them, her hands clasped in front of her body.

"Ye're all a sight for sore eyes," she said. Charlotte watched Alasdair approach the woman and give her a kiss on the cheek in greeting. Meanwhile, Hayden passed the horses over to the stableboys and gave instructions for the return of the carriage.

"Aunt Orlaith," Alasdair said. He spun around to gesture toward Charlotte and Ben. The boy held tight to Charlotte's hand, but she stepped forward, giving his hand a squeeze in encouragement.

"Me Benny!" Aunt Orlaith cried. The woman dropped to her knees and held out her arms, reminding Charlotte of Alasdair's reunion with the boy.

"He's a bit nervous," Charlotte started, but she was surprised when the boy rushed forward and threw himself into the woman's arms. Charlotte saw his little arms squeeze hard around her bony shoulders.

"Well now," Alasdair chuckled, sidling up to Charlotte as Aunt Orlaith cooed and clucked over the boy. "It looks like ye were worried for nothing."

"Be gentle, Ben," Alasdair said, pulling his son away from his aunt.

"Gentle?" Orlaith cried, outraged by the word. "I'm not an old lady, Alasdair."

As if to prove a point, Orlaith bounced back to her feet with ease. She turned her attention to Charlotte, who stood a step behind, shyly observing.

"And who is this?" Orlaith asked, looking toward Charlotte with a beaming smile. "A new bride?"

He caught the shock in Charlotte's face and quickly corrected his aunt even as Charlotte sputtered out a denial.

"Oh no," Charlotte said.

"This is Charlotte," Alasdair replied. He suddenly realized he hadn't thought about what he would tell his family about Charlotte's presence in the castle. "She's here to help with Ben."

"A governess?" Orlaith said with excitement, clapping her hands together in her signature gesture. "How wonderful!"

"How do you do?" Charlotte asked, recovering quickly. She curtsied to the woman, dipping her head in a slight bow.

"And she's English!" Orlaith rushed forward and took Charlotte's hands in her own. She pulled the woman to her feet before taking her against her chest and wrapping her arms around her.

"Welcome, me dear," Orlaith said. "I know we're going to be great friends."

Charlotte smiled at her though Alasdair could tell she was overwhelmed by the force that was his Aunt Orlaith. He smirked, realizing his aunt had that effect on a number of people.

"Well now, ye didn't tell me they arrived!" A deep voice bounced across the courtyard, making Alasdair instantly tense. He looked up to see his brother-in-law striding toward him with a broad smile.

"Lennox is here?" Alasdair asked, pulling Orlaith to his side.

"Aye. I thought he should ken his nephew has returned." He saw his aunt's hesitation. "Was it wrong to call him?"

"Nay," Alasdair sighed. "'Twas not wrong."

Alasdair turned to Lennox and forced a smile on his face. It was impossible not to look at the man without remembering the sister Lennox had lost. Alasdair felt the guilt like a heavy stone in his stomach whenever the man was in his castle.

He watched Lennox cross to the group as Hayden came up beside him.

"Are ye alright?" Hayden asked.

"Never better," Alasdair grumbled, but his friend could easily hear the sarcasm in his voice. Alasdair stepped forward, resolved to be the friendly Laird.

"Lennox," Alasdair said, clasping the man's hand in greeting. "How kind of ye to be here for our arrival."

"I wouldn't miss it," he said. "Not when me nephew has finally been returned to us. Where is the boy?"

With all the commotion, Ben was hiding behind Charlotte's skirts again.

"Benjamin," Alasdair called. "Come greet yer uncle."

When Ben didn't move, Alasdair caught Charlotte's eye, a question in his gaze. Charlotte gave a small nod, a silent communication between them, and then she walked Ben forward.

"And who is this?" Lennox asked, his eyes going wide at the sight of Charlotte.

"She is not—" Alasdair started.

"I'm only here—" Charlotte offered.

They both stopped as they realized they were talking over one another. Alasdair caught Charlotte's eye and looked immediately away. He saw Orlaith and Lennox exchange a glance of amusement as he and Charlotte stumbled over their explanations. Hayden was quietly chuckling behind him.

"She is Ben's governess," Alasdair announced with confidence, silencing all the glances and the laughter that swirled around them. He saw Charlotte look over at him, upset that he was continuing the lie Orlaith had inextricably started, but he refused to meet her gaze.

Lennox smiled a full, open-mouthed smile, and Alasdair was reminded of how charming his brother-in-law could be. Where Alasdair was cold and brooding, Lennox was warm and effusive. His brother-in-law enthusiastically approached Charlotte and lifted her hand to his mouth, kissing her knuckles.

"Welcome," he greeted. "It's been a long time since such beauty has graced O'Malley Castle."

A gentle silence descended in which Alasdair knew many of them were thinking of Isabella, Lennox's sister, and the last young woman to call this castle home.

"Thank you, sir," Charlotte said. She smiled sweetly at Lennox, and Alasdair felt a sudden urge to break up all these happy greetings.

"I'm famished," he announced. "Who's ready for some lunch?"