Chapter 6
A JUDGE’S DECREE
In the office of D. Sinclair, Architect
Taking his seat at his drafting table, Daniel immediately resumed his work on the McDonald house, thoughts of where to place the parlor and the library in the first floor apparently conjuring the client himself into existence.
“Mr. Sinclair, Lord McDonald is here to see you,” Arthur said from the door.
Daniel glanced up, shocked to discover he had been so consumed with the project, he hadn’t noticed his client’s arrival nor the passage of nearly two hours of time.
“Lord McDonald! Do come in,” he said, stepping off his stool to greet one of the Senators of the College of Justice, a judge at Scotland’s supreme civil court.
The two shook hands as Geoffrey McDonald glanced around the small office. “Sinclair. I have to admit, I’m a bit surprised to find you all alone in here,” the judge said, a teasing grin appearing to lift the man’s round cheeks.
“My lord?” Daniel replied, displaying a quizzical expression.
McDonald crossed his arms over his paunch and chuckled. “Well, this is where the infamous kiss took place, is it not?”
Daniel blinked. “Uh, oh. That.” He waved a hand dismissively. “I’m afraid a peck on the cheek from an old friend has been taken quite of context, my lord,” he explained.
His face falling, McDonald’s arms dropped to his sides. “What’s this?”
“I’m not sure what you’ve heard—”
“That you and a rather attractive young lady in a yellow gown—”
“Jonquil,” he interrupted, immediately wincing at having essentially admitted his part in the event. “She was wearing a jonquil gown,” he murmured.
The correction on the color barely slowed down McDonald, though. “You and an attractive young lady in a jonquil gown were seen in a rather passionate embrace, kissing as if she had accepted your offer of marriage.”
Daniel blinked again. Offer of marriage? “I wouldn’t call it a ‘passionate embrace’, my lord.” Realizing the judge wasn’t about to accept his clarification, Daniel struggled to sort what to say before McDonald once again crossed his arms.
“Tell me there is a wedding in your future, son.”
“There is a wedding in my future,” Daniel repeated, deciding he wasn’t exactly lying. The distant future. He had every intention of taking a wife once he had finished building his house. After he had saved enough blunt to do so.
“Good. If you decide on a civil ceremony over one in the church, I certainly know where that can be arranged,” McDonald said, his glee returning as he waggled his brows. “Who is she?”
Daniel took a steadying breath. “Miss Isabella Farnsworth. I, uh, knew her... uh, know her from where I spent my summers growing up in Derbyshire.”
Angling his balding head to one side, the judge seemed ever so pleased. “Derbyshire? So she’s English?” Usually the word would be accompanied by a look of derision, but in this case the judge didn’t seem particularly offended.
“She is, my lord,” Daniel acknowledged.
“Good family?”
Lifting a shoulder, Daniel remembered what his mother had told him. “Her father owned the mercantile in Tideswell, but now that he’s expired, her brother runs it,” he explained.
“Ah, so her brother has been seeing to her welfare then?”
Daniel once again blinked. “She has been seeing to herself since her brother recently married,” he said, arching a brow to show his displeasure with the man.
What brother would allow his wife to kick his sister out of the house?
“She recently moved to Edinburgh, I suppose so she could gain more clients. She is a seamstress by trade, you see, and Tideswell is rather small,” he added, hoping he had the details right.
Everything he knew about Isabella he had learned second-hand.
“All the more reason you should see to marrying her sooner rather than later.”
Daniel swallowed, glad his cravat hid his reaction. “Of course, my lord.”
“My wife is going to demand a new ballgown for the Peers’ Ball next week. Do you suppose Miss Farnsworth would be able to fit it into her schedule?”
“Uh... I could ask her to pay a call on Lady McDonald, if you’d like,” Daniel offered, not sure he should simply answer in the affirmative.
In an effort to change the subject, he glanced over at the drafting table, the large surface angled in the opposite direction so the house plans couldn’t be seen from where they stood.
“If you’ve the time, I wondered if I might ask your opinion as to the placement of the parlor and library in your new house? ”
The judge arched a brow. “I’ll take a look, but I may have to send Lady McDonald for her opinion,” he hedged, making his way to the other side of the table.
His bushy brows rose in appreciation. “You’re nearly finished,” he said in awe, noting the stack of elevations at the top of the table and the first floor spread out on the smooth wood surface.
Metal clips at the edges of the table held the vellum in place.
“I still have the second and third floors to do, although I do have them sketched out,” Daniel said. “To be certain the windows line up evenly.”
“Symmetry is important,” McDonald commented, pulling out a pair of spectacles. He set them on the edge of his nose
“But the ground floor is ready,” Daniel continued.
“I did as you asked and put the study down there.” He pulled out another huge sheet of vellum—the ground floor plan—and settled it over the top of the first floor drawing.
“There’s still space for a sitting room or a small parlor, and you’ll have a music room here—” he pointed to a room on the right side, “—and the ballroom here with a wall of windows looking out on a garden,” he said as he pointed to the left side of the layout.
“Cloak room, retiring rooms,” he added, waving to an area near the ballroom but closer to the round entrance.
“I like how you have the stairs curving up to the first floor. My wife will reward me when she sees those,” he said, his brows waggling. “Should they be made of marble, do you suppose?”
“They would be magnificent in marble, my lord,” Daniel replied, relieved the judge wasn’t deterred by such a costly feature.
“As would the floor. The curve is repeated in the wall on left of the entry,” he explained, pulling the drawing of the front elevation from the stack and lining it up over the floor plan.
“Which goes all the way up to the roof, as does the curved wall on the right, so the front of the house will appear as a half-cylinder with columns on either side and a set of double doors in the center.”
McDonald examined the elevation drawing and nodded appreciatively.
He returned his attention to the first floor plan.
“Parlor should be right at the top of the stairs, and...” He used a pudgy finger and pointed to where Daniel had penciled in the word ‘library’ in the space next to the parlor with a question mark.
“Let’s put the library downstairs next to the study. ”
“Downstairs?” Daniel repeated in surprise.
“The fewer stairs I have to climb, the better,” the judge commented.
“In fact, just put the study in the library...” He pointed to the area where Daniel had indicated a small parlor could be located.
“And then you can double the size of the parlor on the first floor. Clara will be able to host her hen parties in a single room rather than having to flit about several rooms in an effort to make everyone feel welcome.”
Daniel suppressed the urge to grin, his imagination conjuring Lady McDonald hurrying from one room to the next, never having the chance to actually sit and play cards or drink tea—or whatever it was that ladies drank at hen parties.
A larger parlor meant there wouldn’t be a support wall, though. He quickly decided where he could place a row of support columns, their capitals carved in the manner of the Greek Doric style. “Very well, my lord. Is there anything else you’d like me to include?”
The judge considered his query a moment and sighed. “I suppose I should be sure the second floor has those newfangled bathing chambers next to the bedchambers,” he said.
“I’ll be sure they’re included,” Daniel replied. “I, uh, I have included one off the parlor,” he added, pointing to a small room at the back. “And one down here near your study.” He lifted the vellum to point to a small room directly beneath the one he had referenced at the back of the parlor.
“Capital,” McDonald replied. “Make the one off the parlor a bit larger, would you? These lady’s gowns aren’t getting any smaller, dammit. The only ones benefitting from those huge skirts are the drapers and textile manufacturers,” he groused.
Daniel grinned. “My sentiments exactly,” he agreed. “I shall see to enlarging the retiring rooms,” he added, writing a few quick notes in the margins of the floor plan. When he glanced up, he discovered the judge watching him, a pained expression on his face. “What is it, my lord?”
McDonald shook his head. “For a man who looks as if Aphrodite and Apollo were his parents, you’re not particularly vain, are you?”
Opening his mouth to respond, Daniel quickly closed it but chuckled. He finally lifted a shoulder in a shrug of resignation. “I can’t really help how I look, sir,” he said.
“You could be an exhibit in your own zoo and be charging admission. Then you’d have enough blunt to marry in only a week or two.”
Daniel’s face flushed red. “Thank you. I think,” he replied.
“The sooner you’re off the marriage mart, the better it will be for the rest of us mortal men.”
Dipping his head, Daniel murmured, “I have every intention of marrying, once I can afford a wife.”
“Well, send me an invoice for what you’ve done so far,” McDonald ordered, waving to the floor plans. “That should be enough to tide you over until they’re all done. I’ll sign the contract your secretary sent and be sure to send other potential clients your way.”
Daniel swallowed at hearing the judge’s comment. “Yes, my lord. Thank you.”
With that, Lord Geoffrey McDonald took his leave of Daniel’s office.
When Daniel noticed Arthur’s attention directed at him, he cocked a dark brow.
The secretary bowed to the judge and waited until the man was out the door before he joined Daniel in his office.
“What is it?” Daniel asked.
“This arrived for you whilst you were with his lordship,” Arthur said, holding out a white envelope.
Daniel furrowed a brow, taking the missive in hand. “Who delivered it?” he asked, studying the writing which included only his name in an even script on the front.
“A caddy. Not one I recognized,” Arthur replied, referring to the young boys who acted as couriers in the city.
Daniel unfolded the envelope and frowned as he read the feminine script.
Dear Daniel,
I am so sorry.
I never intended for our brief reunion to result in yours—or my—ruination. I was so overcome by the sight of you—how is it a man can be so handsome as you are?—I could not help my reaction.
Can you ever forgive me? I’ll do whatever I must to correct this most unfortunate situation.
With my sincerest apologies,
Isabella
Daniel furrowed his brows as he reread the missive, a multitude of emotions clashing until he didn’t know what he should think or how he would respond.
He had a thought to be vindictive. Force her to marry him on the morrow—Lord McDonald had intimated he could see to an expedited civil ceremony—but he quickly set aside the idea.
He wasn’t sure he could afford a wife, even if he economized—and even if McDonald paid his invoice as quickly as he suggested he might.
Where would they live?
He had a thought to simply ignore the missive. Pretend he hadn’t read it. Act as if it had never been delivered. Ignorance is bliss.
Except it wasn’t.
How could it be when he realized how his body was reacting to the idea of marriage to her. He couldn’t recall a single time since his later years in school that he experienced such a visceral reaction to just the thought of a woman.
His last thought was to simply acknowledge her apology in the manner it was intended. She had been overcome. She was sorry.
I’ll do whatever I must to correct this most unfortunate situation.
For a moment after reading the words ‘unfortunate situation’, he felt a hint of disappointment.
If she saw it as an ‘unfortunate situation’, did that mean she regretted kissing him? For a reason other than the gossip that had everyone thinking him a rake?
Had his kiss been that bad?
It wasn’t as if he’d had any experience in the matter.
Kissing was an intimate act. More so than sexual congress.
His recollection of their kiss had him thinking it a rather pleasant experience.
He would have liked a bit more... notice.
A bit of warning, so he could have prepared.
So he could have angled his head in the correct position.
So he would have known where to place his hands.
Although, until he had actually experienced it, he wouldn’t have known such things.
Without realizing it, he was pantomiming the very actions he was imagining. He was also unaware Arthur was regarding him with an expression of confusion. When his secretary cleared his throat, Daniel immediately straightened and sounded a curse.
“Did you wish to send a reply, sir?” Arthur asked.
Daniel shook his head. “I think I should answer this in person,” he murmured. He glanced back at his drafting table, deciding the best light of the day had already passed. A candle lamp or two would be required for him to continue his work this afternoon.
Perhaps it wouldn’t rain on the morrow.
“I’ll need my topcoat,” he said as he refolded the missive and stuffed it into his waistcoat pocket.
Arthur nodded and moved to pull the garment from the peg near his desk. “Should I hail a hackney for you, sir?”
Daniel shook his head as he unrolled his shirt sleeves and secured the buttons at the cuffs.
“I’ll walk,” he replied, donning both his topcoat and his greatcoat.
He pulled on his gloves and said, “His lordship said he will sign the contract you sent. You’re to bill him for the work I’ve done so far on his house plans.
See to an invoice, will you? Four elevations, one ground floor plan. ”
“Yes, sir.”
“If I’m not back by six o’clock, lock up the office and take your leave.”
Nodding, Arthur rushed back to his desk. He watched as his employer exited the office, a look of uncertainty crossing his face.
Either he had made a huge mistake in following the instructions of the young lady who had paid a call earlier that week—and he would lose his position as a result—or he had assisted in seeing to it his employer married sooner rather than later.
At least the judge was on his side.