She stopped and looked at him. “I do not have time for people to fight me. We must have a finished design by the time his lordship returns. Mrs. Boyce said no, and therefore we go to the next choice. Unless…” She frowned. “Are you suggesting I sack a woman who has served the clan so faithfully all these years?” She rubbed her finger across her chin. “I am loathe to do that, but time is short.”
Mr. Russell sighed. “Time is not that short. We have an hour to explain the details to Mrs. Boyce. She might change her mind.”
“An hour! We have a thousand decisions to make this day alone. We have yet to discuss the provisions for laundry, and then there is the schoolroom.”
Julian held up his hand. “Half an hour? It would save me time if I did not have to redo all my work from last night.”
Clara took a moment, then turned back to Mrs. Boyce. “Well? Can you make decisions in that time? Do you wish to listen to Mr. Russell’s logic? Or do I give the new oven to Rhona?” Then she lifted her hands. “Or you could quit and leave with my blessing. It is entirely up to you.”
“Quit!” the woman gasped. “Why would I—”
“Are you out of your mind?” came another voice. “Why would you put children next to a glass factory?” Mairi burst into the kitchen with her hair askew and her eyes blazing. She wore a simple dress burned in several places, and she had heavy gloves in her hand—not on them—that she whipped about as she gestured. “There’s space enough in the castle, the bailey, in the barn even. Children love horses! But to put them next to molten glass is beyond insane! I canna believe even a Sassenach could be that stupid.”
Clara sighed. Another fight she had not wanted to have right now. And for them to come upon her together was exhausting. She was still sorting through her options, though, when Julian lost hold of his composure.
“Good God, are all Scotswomen like this? Uncivilized, screeching creatures with less decorum than a wild horse?” He rounded on her. “Clara, this…this overflowing emotion is not to my liking! Not in the least!”
Clara was dumbstruck. She’d never seen her friend so exercised in all her life. His face was flushed, his hands were fisted above his sketches, and he looked like he wanted to throttle the entire room. But he never got the chance as Mairi pointed her finger straight at the man’s face.
“And who are you to bluster at me? What idiot puts children next to a hot furnace?”
“One who wants to keep them warm in winter. And if you would look at the design, you would see that there are walls. Big, heavy walls all the way to the bailey between them and the fire.” He lifted his chin. “What woman would allow her children to freeze to death when there is heat and comfort to be had?”
“Children get everywhere,” she snapped.
“As do idiots and fools. Can you not keep track of your own?”
“Have you never had a child underfoot?”
His breath caught, and his face paled. It was obvious to everyone, including Mairi. Clara knew, of course, that his younger brother had died under tragic circumstances. She’d never gotten the details. He never spoke of it. But she knew he thought it was his fault and he’d never forgiven himself.
Fortunately, Mairi had hold of her temper enough to stop her verbal assault. She softened her voice and dropped her hands on her hips. “The school cannot be attached to the factory. It’s too dangerous.”
“The school is in the castle,” he said firmly. “But sometimes they need a warm place to go. Sometimes the girls need to be in one place and the boys in another. Or does it never get so snowbound that everyone must survive together for weeks on end?”
Mairi was startled into silence, as was everyone else. Julian was normally a soft-spoken man, but when he allowed his emotions through, he could be ruthless with his logic. And now he turned that weapon onto Mrs. Boyce.
“The stove will go there,” he said pointing. “It is the most efficient place to distribute the heat. You’ll have hot water flowing through a pipe behind it to come out here.” He pointed. “It can be high enough for a table or lower down to the floor for washing.”
Clara shook her head. “The laundry will be done as part of the bathhouse.”
Julian nodded. “If it’s high, I can get you a sink that drains away with the sewage. Mind that it doesn’t get clogged. I’ll not come out here in the dead of winter to unstop an ugly mess.”
Mrs. Boyce grunted. “I know how to keep a sink clean.”
“Are we agreed then?” Mr. Russell asked as he pinned everyone with a hard stare. It was a cold look, but it sat well on his face. It gave him an air of authority that was normally absent, and for the first time she could see his aristocratic ancestry in every line of his body. If he had been born to his uncle, he could manage the stature of a duke, she thought.
So too, apparently, did everyone else. Mrs. Boyce nodded. Rhona and several others who had come to spy upon them also dipped their heads. But Mairi was not so easily cowed.
“I would see these plans for the children.”
“Why?” he challenged. “I heard you were off to London.”
“This is my home and my people,” she said. “I’ll not abandon them to an English folly.”
He folded his arms as he stared at her. “And what education do you have to challenge my plans? Have you studied mathematics, architecture, or the engineering of wells and pipes?”
Clara almost had sympathy for Mairi. No woman had the credentials that Julian had. Certainly not in his chosen field. But apparently Mairi was not intimidated by years of study.
