Page 17 of In Search of a Husband
Not to mention considerable change, something Finn was adamant against.
“Are you Gabriel MacInnes? No one will tell me who I’m supposed to meet.” A tall, thin man pushed wired-rimmed glasses up his nose, emerging from the shadows.
“Given the nature of things…” Gabriel began before Finn burst in from behind.
“I told ye to speak to me. Gabriel doesna ken barley from wheat?—”
“Finn.” Gabriel clenched his hands. The architect was here as a favor, and if the man left before he could get answers on rebuilding the distillery, they would need to wait weeks, likely months before he could find another to travel to the small village.
The architect raised his hands in the air as if in defeat. “I am only here to inspect the structure of this building so I can provide whoever paid me with the necessary advice on rebuilding?—”
“Wait, wait! Rebuilding?” Finn threw his hands up, his face red as he spun and addressed Gabriel. “This worked well without ye. I’ll be damned if I allow ye to sweep in and rebuild it. Everything is fine as it is. And if ye start messin’ with it, Duncan McQuarrie will be payin’ ye a visit.”
The girls giggled in the background, chasing one another around the giant, empty tubs used for mash.
“Come back here, lasses,” Gabriel cautioned.
The whole cellar was damp and smelled of wet soot. The beams overhead were charred and had significant damage from insects or rot.
“I’ll speak with ye later, Finn. Privately.” Gabriel approached the architect who edged away. That familiar acrid taste of panic filled the back of his throat at the gesture. It happened often enough. Gabriel was not a small man, and given his love of boxing, his shoulders were broad. Most days he felt like a giant trying to quietly make it to the end of the day in a world that wished nothing but to be loud.
He didn’t care for the noise.
And all too often lately, his days and nights were full of it.
“Let’s walk around, Mr. Baylus,” he said, stopping short of the architect. “I would like to hear what ye discovered.”
“I am not sure you will, sir.”
“That is what I expected.” He ran his hand through his hair with a ragged sigh. At some point, he would find bottom, but it felt as if he had been falling for weeks now.
Worse news always followed.
Like the ear-splitting scream that ripped through the dark cellar a moment later.
“Lorna!” Maisie yelled.
Finn grabbed a candle and raced forward in the dark. “Maisie, stay away.”
“Help!” Lorna sobbed. “Owww. Damn it.”
“Ye can’t say that,” Maisie yelled back. She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand as Gabriel rushed forward.
He felt the earth begin to crumble under his feet and paused.There, peering up at him, was his niece at the bottom of an old hole used for a still someone hadn’t filled in properly.
Damn itseemed an appropriate response, but if he was to do anything, he would need a governess.
“Lass, we’ll work on that mouth of yers, but first, I want ye to breathe in deep, like.” He crouched down, and slowly dropped himself into the hole beside. He glanced up as the others stared down. Still, this wouldn’t be the worst of it. He was certain of it. That was always the way with the MacInnes family. “Hold on to me now, and I promise it’ll be fine.”
“Right as rain, Uncle?”
“Of course.” He quickly examined her, thankful there wasn’t a broken bone but only a bad sprain. Another day, he would lecture her. Another day when the world wasn’t collapsing in on him, and he didn’t feel as if he were failing everyone.
And he was.
Gabriel MacInnes was a man on borrowed time, and the world was quick on his heels, ready to demand restitution.
CHAPTER 4
