Chapter Eight
Gunn was justfinishing up wiping down the chairs and tables in the pub when the door burst open, and giggles filled the space.
He looked up, seeing a laughing Lizzie and a contrite Jocelyn. She looked at him nervously, worrying her lip with her teeth.
“Gunn. I’ve saved Jocelyn from that dreadful room ye’ve forced her into.”
Quickly, Jocelyn spoke up. “She is jesting. I have no problem with my workspace. It contains all that I need.”
Lizzie rolled her eyes at Jocelyn and turned to him. “She is being much too kind. It is dark and dank. What were ye thinking by sticking her in there?” She crossed her arms and pinned him with a severe glare.
“I have already informed Jocelyn that I will be moving her desk to some place more pleasant.”
“I dinna ken how long ye have had her working where she is, but that is an idea ye should have had before now. Dinna ye think?”
Jocelyn stepped forward, looking guilty. “I apologize. I’ve waged no complaint over what you have provided, which has been more than accommodating. I will get back to work.”
She spun on her heel and began to leave.
Lizzie glared at him, widening her eyes and gesturing to Jocelyn’s retreating form. Like he was supposed to do something.
“Jocelyn,” he called out.
She stopped, but didn’t turn to face him. Just stood there, her head hanging before she spoke quietly. “I will work late this eve to make up for lost time. My apologies.” She began to move forward again.
“Jocelyn, halt,” he ordered, his voice sounding more stern than he meant. “I dinna care about your work time.”
She spun, blue eyes clashing with his. “Lizzie is correct. ’Twas wrong of me to put ye in such a space. Ye should cease until I can move ye to a room up here.”
“I was just going to take her outside so she could get some fresh air,” Lizzie said, emphasizing the point as if he were daft.
“That’s a wonderful idea.”
“See, ye had naught to fash about.”
He watched the whirl of emotions cross Jocelyn’s face. The lass fashed too much. She was so concerned about not working hard enough. He’d be damned if he worked her to the bone. She still looked like she needed to hearty up.
“I will leave ye ladies to it, then. But Jocelyn?”
“Yes,” she answered, her voice barely audible.
“Ye still owe me a walk,” he said with a wink.
He could see the relief that sagged her shoulders. She dipped her head and then Lizzie was pulling her out the door.
He shook his head and pulled out a chair, sinking into it. The meeting he had with his solicitor earlier that day had gone much as he expected it to. There was little money to move around between his businesses and his estates. Gunn would need to make a decision soon.
Close, sell, or fund it from his other income sources, which right now, he had no other streams of revenue. Things were indeed looking dim for the Thistle & Pig and those he employed.
Looking around the pub, he thrummed his fingers along the polished wood of the tabletop. He’d furnished the space with thebest tables. The most comfortable chairs. The finest liquor one could buy.
Once again, he thought about what had changed. Aye, Theodore was stealing from him. That was certain. And that explained his empty coffers, but it didn’t explain why people stopped frequenting the pub. He had to get to the bottom of that. He had always had a good rapport with the townsfolk. He still seemed to when he crossed paths with them. Yet, they no longer walked through his doors.
Somehow, he believed Theodore was behind that as well, but why? What purpose could it serve him to kill his patronage? With the amount of coin he’d stolen, Gunn would think he would want to keep that up. He couldn’t skim aught off the top when naught was coming in.
None of it made sense.
Mayhap after Malcolm returned with information about Jocelyn’s past, he could look into what Theodore was up to.
