Page 48 of Beloved Enemy
“Someone like me?” Charlotte raised an eyebrow, curious.
“Aye,” Eoin said, his smile widening as he continued to shovel. “The bonny ones here would rather tend to other things—cooking, weaving, and the like... things that leave the dirt where it belongs.”
Charlotte chuckled, ignoring the fact that he’d just called her pretty. “I have to stick with what I know, Eoin, which is not half of what I should, I’m embarrassed to say.” Truth be told, she’d much rather be cooking or weaving. “I’m ashamed to say that I’m simply not used to so much physical labor.”
Eoin nodded, his expression turning slightly more serious. “Aye, and that’s as it should be. I ken ye said ye had a man, lass, but he’s nae at Kingswood. But while ye are, ye might only smile here and there, and they’ll come, just as I did, wanting to help ye out.”
Oh!Oh, crap. She bit her tongue, knowing she hadn’t smiled at Eoin with some attempt to entice him into doing her work. She hadn’t even realized he’d come until a moment before he’d taken the shovel from her.
Rising to her feet, she brushed off the skirt at the knees, which had sat in the dirt, and smiled now at Eoin as she approached him. Reaching for the spade, she said, “And I thank you for your help, Eoin, but you’ve been kept long enough from your own work, no doubt.”
He winked at her, and pretended to tip a hat he wasn’t wearing before hopping agilely over the short fence, whistling as he strode down the lane.
Charlotte clamped her teeth and watched him go.
A snicker of a laugh behind her twirled her around.
Una stood at the side of the house, smirking at Charlotte.
“Yesterday, it was Ludan,” she said, “offering to carry the basket, scarcely filled mind ye, and this morn, 'twas Donnàn hefting the buckets from the burn. And now this one, the scout.”
“I didn’t ask them to,” Charlotte defended, seeing where this was going.
“Dinna need to,” Una said with a shrug. “Ye smile rather freely, lass, and it gives a man ideas.”
“I smile,” Charlotte argued, a bit annoyed by this, “because it’s the polite thing to do. What? Am I supposed to scowl at people to scare them away?”
“Aye,” Una answered in a practical tone, “unless that’s nae what ye want.”
Seriously?
“But...but they know, surely everyone knows or heard what I said, that I...I am not available.”
“All the more reason nae to smile.”
“That’s ridiculous,” Charlotte decided.
“Might be. Och, but we’ll see what we can get about tomorrow, and who might come to help us,” Una said, wearing a sly grin. “Ye’re proving more useful by the day. Keep smiling, lass.”
Losing a bit of her annoyance, Charlotte stuck out her tongue at Una, who chuckled in response.
And then Charlotte remembered her plans, her desire to leave.
“Una,” Charlotte began, her tone serious once more, “I truly appreciate everything you’ve done for me. I’ve tried to be ashelpful as I can this past week, hoping it might repay even a fraction of your kindness. But... I can’t stay here at Kingswood. I need to ask the laird to help me find my way back home.”
“Take ye home, ye mean,” Una replied, her brow furrowing in thought.
Charlotte hesitated, realizing she couldn’t explain that taking her home wasn’t quite possible in the way Una meant. “Yes, that’s what I meant,” she said instead. “Do you mind if I find him now, the laird, to ask when I might be able to leave?”
Una’s expression shifted slightly, her tone taking on a mild edge. “Ye’re nae a prisoner, nae a slave.”
Charlotte lifted her chin. No, she was neither of those things. She thanked Una and turned away, heading off toward the fields, hoping to find Reid still working there.
As she walked, she left the village lane and began trudging up a slight incline, the ground beneath her feet jagged and uneven from the stones and rocks that had been cleared from the fields and piled along the perimeter. She suddenly noticed her hands, realizing she hadn’t washed them. They were filthy, coated in dirt from the garden. A quick glance down revealed that her gown, which she’d been wearing for two days now, was in no better shape. The hem was dusty, and the skirt and bodice were stained with splotches of dirt and mud.
Deciding she didn’t care and that in the grand scheme of things it didn’t matter, Charlotte pressed on, determined to find Reid. As she approached the fields, the sight of at least twenty men, all hard at work, greeted her. They were scattered across the land, plowing, tilling, and moving more stones. Her eyes scanned the scene, searching for Reid among them, her heart quickening at the thought of seeing him again, as she hadn’t since he’d walked her and Thomas back from the loch yesterday.
Fairly quickly, as he was hard to miss, Charlotte spotted Reid. He was working alongside his men, his back to her ashe held the reins and guided the huge oxen who pulled a plow through the rich, dark earth. Her breath caught in her throat when she realized he was shirtless, his broad, muscled shoulders glistening with sweat under the afternoon sun. His skin, beautifully bronzed, rippled with each powerful movement, the muscles in his arms and back flexing with effortless strength as he cajoled the pair of oxen to work.
