Chapter 5
A VICTIM OF GOSSIP
The following morning
Opting to take his breakfast at the Tolbooth Tavern, Daniel ducked into the ancient building and inhaled the scents of bacon and freshly baked bread. Located in the Royal Mile in Old Town, the pub offered hearty fare as well as an opportunity to meet with potential clients.
He opted for a small table near the front, the latest copy of The Scotsman tucked under his arm.
A waiter delivered his usual order only a few minutes later, but before he had a chance to lift his fork, he heard his name and glanced to up to see a middle-aged man in uniform approaching him.
“Morning, Colonel Robertson,” he said, giving the man a nod.
“Sinclair, so good to see you again. What’s this I hear about you and a young lady?” Robertson asked, waggling his bushy brows as he was about to pass by his table.
The officer was in charge of the upkeep of some of the buildings at Edinburgh Castle, and he had hired Daniel in the past to provide his opinion on the fortifications necessary for the older structures.
He had been most dismayed by the military’s use of St. Margaret’s Chapel, the oldest building in all of Scotland, to store gunpowder and other provisions for the personnel barracked at the castle.
“Uh, what have you heard?” Daniel countered, attempting to act as if it was news to him.
“That you kissed her in front of your place of business,” Robertson replied, punching Daniel’s shoulder. “Right out in the open for anyone to see?” He sighed dramatically. “I had quite forgotten how young love makes a man behave. Been thirty years since I did that with me wife.”
Daniel blinked. “I, uh—”
“Courting her, are you?” Robertson interrupted, as if he wished to learn more so he would have first-hand information to share with his garrison.
Dipping his head, Daniel realized two things at the same time. If he denied courting the girl, his kiss would be seen as the socially unacceptable behavior of a rake. His business would no doubt suffer. Who would wish to hire an architect with a reputation as a rogue?
However, if he agreed, at least he would have an acceptable excuse for having participated in the kiss.
“You’ve sorted it perfectly, Colonel,” he replied, glad for the darkened interior that hid his reddening face.
“Have you any other buildings requiring my expert evaluation?” he added, hoping to steer the conversation to work.
“I’m drafting a house on a commission now, but I should have some time in a few weeks. ”
“Not yet, but perhaps next year,” Robertson replied. “Why, you’ll probably be a married man by then,” he said happily. “Best wishes.”
“Uh, if she says ‘yes’,” Daniel hedged, relieved he remembered he had an easy out should the topic come up again.
“No young lady would be fool enough to turn down marriage to a handsome bloke like you,” Robertson said, chuckling as he took his leave of the tavern.
Daniel watched the man leave before returning his attention to his breakfast. The plate of poached eggs, smoked fish, and brown bread still appeared edible, but the syrup atop his bowl of porridge had cooled, as had his coffee.
Before he finished eating, two more gentlemen had stopped by his table with their greetings. At least neither brought up the errant kiss, but he heard the unmistakeable sound of lips smacking as they departed.
An hour later
Striding into the building in which his office was located, its white limestone blocks washed clean from the incessant rain of the past two days, Daniel shed his great coat and approached his secretary’s desk.
“Morning, Peabody. Any correspondence?” he asked, tamping down the desire to scold the man for the gossip he had obviously started.
He secretly wanted to terminate the man’s employment, but his mother’s words reminded him he wouldn’t be able to find a suitable replacement with the same skills for the same pay.
Given the teasing he had suffered at the tavern and remembering what his mother had said, he knew the secretary had shared news of his kiss with Isabella Farnsworth. The betrayal rankled.
“When she was here the other day, did Miss Farnsworth leave you a calling card?” he asked, as Peabody took his coat.
His secretary’s eyes widened slightly even as a flush of red crept up and colored his high cheekbones.
“She did, sir,” he admitted. He hung the greatcoat on a peg on the wall and returned to his desk.
Although the papers on it were neatly stacked, he seemed to have trouble locating the pasteboard card.
When he finally held it out to his employer, he asked, “Is she a potential client, sir?” his query made in an innocent-sounding voice.
Daniel gave him a withering glance. “She had better be,” he grumbled, thinking of the house he had designed and wanted to build before taking a wife. He didn’t bother to read the card until he was in his office and the door was closed.
Centered in black ink on the front were the words:
Miss Isabella Farnsworth
Seamstress
and on the back:
~For an appointment, send inquiries to~
The space below had been left blank by the printer, but an address was handwritten in a feminine script.
Hurrying over to one of the walls without a window, Daniel studied the large map of Edinburgh he had purchased the year before.
He had filled in several open spaces with new projects that had been built since its publication and marked others with an ‘X’ if he knew they were to be demolished.
Finally locating the approximate location of the address he found on the card, he gave a start.
New Town, he confirmed. Just as Callum had said the night before. How could his friend from childhood afford such an address, though? Was this her place of business? Or where she lived? Or both?
Well, she is a seamstress, he remembered. And she has her dowry.
Daniel pulled out his timepiece and glanced back at his drafting table. Given the sky was fairly clear, the light was bright enough to work without burning several candle lamps. In a few hours, the sun would no longer be at the right angle to illuminate his workspace.
Torn between tracking down Isabella or seeing to his current project, he opted to remain in the office.
He discovered he had made the right choice not long after.