“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, thisiswhere 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 ajonquilgown 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,knowher 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 wordwould 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 rosein 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?”
