Page 15 of Provoked

When he’d last seen them, months ago, in early summer, his father hadn’t been well, and David had had to help Drew mend the barn roof. The weather had been kind, and when David had climbed down the ladder at suppertime, his face had been tight from a day spent in the sun. His body had ached all over too, though in the satisfying way that comes from a man using his body as God intended. It had been a hard day, but good. Companionable.

The aches David got from his daily work—from hunching over his desk and reading late into the night—were earned in a different way. These were physical manifestations of the work his mind did, even as his body atrophied at his desk. The stiffness in his neck and shoulders came from doing too little rather than too much.

Sometimes he needed to exhaust his body as well as his mind. But professional gentlemen did no labour, so when he felt the need for activity, David walked. Miles and miles. Most Saturdays he’d just shove some bread and cheese in his pocket and set off.

He wished he could do that now. Over the last two days, he’d worked to the point of mental exhaustion. Sleep would probably elude him tonight, despite his weariness. Thoughts of the new case still circled persistently in his mind. But it was too late to go walking, and anyway, he had to meet Euan. This short stroll down the High Street would have to do him for now.

The Tolbooth Tavern was quiet when he pushed the heavy wooden door open. Once his eyes had adjusted to the dim light, he saw that Euan was one of only three men drinking there.

The lad sat in front of the fire, his back to the door, steam rising from his wet coat as he nursed a small tankard.

“Hello,” David said, taking off his hat and gesturing to the buxom woman behind the bar to bring more ale.

Euan turned in his seat, startled. “Davy! It’s good to see you.”

“Were you caught in the rain?” David asked as he settled himself down.

“Aye. Worse luck.”

The woman arrived with the ale. She plonked a tankard on the table, displaying a large and pendulous cleavage. “Anythin’ else, gents?”

David glanced at Euan questioningly. The younger man shook his head. David thought he looked too thin and worryingly pale.

“What do you have to eat?” David asked the woman.

“I could do you a bit of sausage and gravy.”

“That’ll do,” David replied, without consulting Euan further. “Two plates.”

The woman nodded and swayed back to the bar.

“I haven’t got any money,” Euan muttered once she’d moved away, his colour high.

“I’m paying.”

“I don’t want you to—”

“I’m paying.” David’s tone was final.

There was a brief silence. “Thank you,” Euan said at last. “I need to find work. I’ve been looking.”

“What about your studies?”

Euan fidgeted. “I can’t keep them up without Peter’s help,” he admitted finally.

David stared at him. “You didn’t mention this before. You said you were going back—”

“I can hardly go back if I have no funds, can I?”

“You can’t give up on your studies! Your brother would be horrified.”

Euan gave a mirthless laugh. “I don’t have any choice. Anyway, that’s the least of my worries. I’m more concerned about finding Lees.”

David watched the young man for a moment, wrestling with himself. It was rare for men of their class to go to university, to move into the professions and achieve a better standard of living than that of the working families they’d come from. The thought of Euan giving up those aspirations after two years of study troubled David in ways he had difficulty putting into words. He thought of himself when he was a student, living in poverty, struggling to keep body and soul together but driven onwards by acquiring the education that he knew was the only way to change his life.

“I could help you with money,” David said at last. His tone held more confidence than he truly felt—his finances were not good at the moment, but with Chalmers’s sponsorship, there was every reason to think things would improve.

Euan shook his head, his cheeks red with humiliation. “I can make my own way in the world,” he said.