Nicol dropped his gaze to his whisky. “Who indeed,” he murmured, and took another sip.
“So,” Lindsay said, determinedly changing the subject, “that was quite a scene at Cruikshank’s dinner. What was it all about?”
Nicol’s brows knotted at the reminder. Shaking his head, he said shortly, “He misled me.”
“How so?”
Nicol rubbed one hand wearily over his face. “The debt he referred to—we agreed settlement terms on it and now he pretends we did not.”
“Did you not have the terms put in writing?”
“There was no need,” Nicol said. “It was not that kind of debt. I am notlegallyliable for it, but I consider it a debt of honour. I made my feelings on that known to Cruikshank, and that I intended to repay him. In saying what he did tonight, he has defamed me in front of all those men,” He frowned unhappily. “Now, they will say I am a dishonourable scoundrel who does not meet his obligations.”
“You said at Cruikshank’s house it was your uncle’s debt.”
Nicol nodded. “My parents died when I was a boy. It was my uncle who educated and established me in life. He died a number of years ago.”
“So this debt was a debt on his estate?”
“Yes, though it was one he incurred on my behalf—which is why I considered it my responsibility. I’d been offered partnership by my firm, you see. The offer was conditional upon my making a capital contribution and”—he broke off, waving his hand in a vague gesture—“meeting other... conditions.”
Lindsay wondered what those other conditions were. He might’ve asked, but Nicol was speaking again.
“My uncle told me he would advance me the capital I needed. I believed he had the funds—he had been a moderately successful merchant. It was only when he died that I learned he’d borrowed the funds and at an absurdly high rate of interest. God knows why he agreed to such a thing—perhaps he believed he would not require to repay the interest, or perhaps he was just desperate by then.”
“Either way, it was not a debt of your making.”
“No,” Nicol agreed. “But the funds advanced my career. It would have been dishonourable to walk away from the debt on the grounds it was my uncle’s responsibility when I was still benefitting from it.”
Yet that was exactly what many men would have done, Lindsay was quite sure.
“So, you told Cruikshank you would accept responsibility for the debt.”
Nicol nodded unhappily. “I did not have the means to settle it immediately—the money I’d invested in the firm was tied up in land and building works—but he was not impatient to be repaid. He said he was happy to wait.”
“I imagine he’s the sort that likes it when a man is indebted to him.”
Nicol met Lindsay’s gaze, his own bleak. “You have the measure of him. He bided his time till the rush began on houses in the New Town. Then he turned up on my doorstep saying it was time to honour the loan. He told me I could do so by putting him to the top of my firm’s waiting list and giving him a preferential price.” He shrugged. “In truth, I was relieved. I hated owing him the debt. It didn’t even matter to me that what he got was worth more than the loan and interest together. I just wanted to be rid of that obligation.”
“But tonight he denied the loan had been repaid.”
Nicol made a rough sound of disbelief. “I’m such a fool. I should have seen this coming. I already knew that he wanted more from me. He’d asked me repeatedly to join the House and become angry when I’d refused the invitation. But I knew if I agreed, I’d be obliged to grant favours to him and his cronies for the rest of my life.”
“You’d get favours in exchange,” Lindsay pointed out reasonably.
Nicol shook his head, his jaw tight. “I know, but it’s not worth it. I’ve spent my whole life owing things to other people. And finally,finallyI thought I was getting close to being free.”
“What do you mean?” Lindsay asked, his voice soft and curious.
Nicol threw back the rest of his whisky. He was silent for so long that Lindsay was about to give up and change the subject. But then Nicol began to talk again.
“First, it was my uncle. He didn’t ask to be landed with a child, but he still did his best for me. He did everything in his power to set me up with a good living, but it was always on condition that I accepted his advice as to my future.”
“You didn’t choose to be an architect then?”
Nicol gave a dry little laugh. “I wanted to be an artist. My uncle decided that architecture was a more sensible path.” He paused. “Don’t misunderstand me, I enjoy what I do now, but it was not my choice. I took up this career because he was paying for my education and I was obliged to him.”
Lindsay regarded him silently for a while. “And who else have you felt obliged to?” he said. “You said your uncle was the first—were there others?”
