Page 79 of Deception and Desire
“We need to fix the wagon. Some lads were playing with it, hitching it up to a sow.” She laughed. “It didna end well for the young ones, either.”
Calum stood and stretched, then ambled over to the broken cart. “We’ll need to replace this,” he said, taking off the splintered axle. “I’ll have one made and fix it tomorrow.”
“Oh, I’ve already done that.” She went to the mantel and retrieved a long, square bar and handed it to Calum. “Here ye go.”
He got on one knee and held the bar up to the wagon. “This willna work. The wagon has a round opening and the rod is square.”
“Try it anyway.”
“There’s no reason to, lass,” he said patiently. “I’ve fixed enough axles to ken if this will work.”
“Do as she says, Calum,” said Peigi from across the room.
With an exasperated sigh, he nodded to his wife, and put the end of the bar to the round opening. “Do ye see now? It’s just common sense, the axle wouldna be sturdy and move as it should. It’s no’ a proper fit.”
“And this one?” Glynnis took another rod from the mantel and handed it to her father. “Will this one work better?”
Calum grinned. “Aye, lass.” He grasped the round bar and fit it into the opening. “It’s all about the proper fit, ye see.”
Lachlan leaned back in his chair, a smirk on his face. His grandfather didn’t realize what he’d just admitted. He gave a sideways glance to Brodie who wore a huge grin.
“So ye’re saying for something to work right, to be successful, it must be the proper fit?” asked Peigi. “Ye’re sure about such logic?”
Calum nodded, then blinked. Lachlan crossed his arms as shock, followed by irritation, flitted over his features. His eyes narrowed. “Ye’ve tricked me!”
“Husband, ye’re a stubborn old fool sometimes but I love ye,” said his wife, with a smile. “Brodie and Lachlan are yer square and round rods. Ye must use each for their correct purpose or it willna work.”
He rose and brushed off imaginary dust from his knee. With a sigh, he cast his gaze at Lachlan and then Brodie. “Ye’ve made yer point.”
Glynnis stood on tiptoe and kissed her father’s cheek. “Ye’re a wise mon, Da.”
“It seems my women are a wee wiser. Though in the end, the clan will decide,” he conceded with a snort. “Shall we have a swallow and toast to Brodie?”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Some Scottish Counsel
Late October 1819
Glasgow
Lachlan sprinted upthe stairs, several invoices in his hand. It was his first day back, and he was pleased that Colin had found a solution to the problem with theaccountant. She would continue to work on the ledgers, but from her home. Colin would bring her the books and documents when he visited Rose and return them when she was finished.
At the top of the stairs, he froze. In the hall, Fenella sat on a chair, her leather satchel in her lap. Her soft pleading gray eyes latched on to his; he scowled in return.
“I’ve brought you some shortbread,” she said, holding up a parcel wrapped in brown paper.
He strode by her and slammed the office door. Inside, he paced the room, fists clenched. What the devil was she doing here? Shortbread. As if that could make everything better. Nor could those full pink lips or creamy skin or… “Aaaaagh!” Throwing open the door, he stomped past her and went down to the docks. Some heavy lifting would do him good.
“She’s gone. It’s safe to roam the building again,” Sorcha informed him that afternoon with a smirk.
“I dinna care where she is. It makes no difference to me.” He tossed another heavy sack of wool over his shoulder and piled it onto a growing stack.
The next day, Fenella was there again. He ignored her and the shortbread. It surprised him that Mrs. Douglas would be part of such a weak conspiracy. He decided he would just sidestep the office. Yet, it didn’t seem to matter what part of the mill he avoided. Lachlan would turn a corner to find Fenella holding a brown parcel.
“Ye’re a stubborn dunderhead,” Colin said around a mouthful of shortbread. “But it’s to my advantage.” He finished the last chunk, crumpled up the paper, and tossed it at his cousin’s head.
Lachlan ducked. “Ye find it amusing, do ye?”
