Trenton was rather surly at the breakfast table, while Rachel kept her eyes downcast, not saying much at all. Adam wasn’t sure what it was about, but he could feel an underlying tension in the room. He tried to catch Rachel’s eye, but she would scarcely look at him. A slight uneasiness crept over him, but Adam tried to push the feeling aside, wondering if perhaps he was reading too much into this, and he returned to his room to gather his plans and his prototype.
He and Trenton took a carriage to the plant. Adam tried to spend the ride focused on the plans on his lap and not so much on the many people, horses, and vehicles around him. Just get there, do your business, and leave, he told himself. His thoughts were interrupted by Trenton’s voice.
“Tell me, McDougall, do you have a woman back home in the Highlands?”
“I do not,” Adam replied, uncertain as to where this conversation was going.
“I must tell you that I am glad you are here, but I must make one thing clear,” he said, his eyes taking on a steely glint. “I have seen the way you look at my daughter. She, however, is not for you. Do you understand me?”
Adam was shocked at the man’s words, for he hadn’t realized Trenton knew anything of the understanding between the two of them. “Did Rachel say something to you?” he asked, though he was fairly certain she had wanted to wait some time before speaking with the man.
“She didn’t have to,” he said. “She only told me she had no wish to marry Thompson any longer. She will not, however, have a choice. This is the way it is to be, and the sooner both you and my daughter realize that, the better.”
Adam sat stunned for a moment, unsure of how to react or what to say next. “But Trenton, I—”
Before he could say another word, the carriage drew to a halt and Trenton had flung open the door, walking down the steps to the stone building in front of them.
“The plant,” he said simply, by way of explanation, though it was fairly clear to Adam where they were. Trenton led him inside as Adam’s thoughts whirled around his head. He realized saying anything now would only further turn Trenton against him. He would concentrate on business for the moment and resume their discussion of Rachel at a later time.
It was fairly loud inside, as Trenton led him around the floor, which was filled with sweat-soaked men. They finally stopped at the back of the plant, where there sat a scarred oak desk, and behind it a man deep in concentration, his head bowed over plans spread out in front of him.
“Andrews,” Trenton called out, causing the man to look up suddenly, startled out of his concentration. “This is Adam McDougall, the man I was telling you of. He’s brought with him plans for wind power that could be of great benefit. Spare us a minute? McDougall, this is Sullivan Andrews, my business partner.”
The man stood, and Adam reached out to shake his hand. Where Trenton was short and wide, Andrews was tall and broad, clearly much more used to physical efforts than Trenton. His face seemed kindly, however, and the smile he gave Adam was genuine. It was somewhat a relief after his dealings with Trenton, though he would see what it was like actually working with Andrews.
Trenton led them into a workroom, where he bid them both to sit.
“Now, McDougall has a design that he’s nearly finished. I think we — of course, more so you, Sully — can help him complete it, and of course we have the means of distribution. Together, gentlemen, we can provide power to all the countryside — what do you think of that? Now, McDougall, do you think you can provide us those plans you were working on?”
Somehow, it didn’t feel quite right to simply hand over his designs to the man, although wasn’t that why he had come all this way?
“Oh come, now, how are we supposed to get anywhere if you keep them hidden away in your bags?”
Adam sighed, realizing perhaps he did have to let go. He nodded, then pulled them out, spreading them out on the desk in front of him. He saw Andrews’ eyes light up as he looked at them, and the man gazed at the paper in front of him over his glasses, admiration coming over his face.
“How intriguing,” he said, running his finger over some of Adam’s sketches. “Where did you think to create such a design?”
“Have ye ever been to the Highlands, Mr. Andrews?” Adam asked and the man shook his head.
“No need for formalities. Call me Sullivan, everyone does. The answer is no, however. Unfortunately, I have not had the pleasure. I’m a slave to my work, you see, and she is an unyielding mistress.”
“Well, the wind blows through the Highlands with the same frequency that you and I breathe. It’s a part of life. I had recently read an article in a journal about power plants, such as the one you have here yerself. I was racing through the wind one day and my mind began working, trying to determine how we could process this energy into something else, some kind of power source. You see where I’m stuck, however, do ye not?”
“I do,” said Andrews, nodding his head, and as he began to generate ideas to help solve the problem, Trenton began retreating to the door. “I’ll leave you to it, then gentlemen. We will all convene soon!” And with that, he was out of the workroom, and Adam had an instant sense of how this business operated. He was somewhat glad to be rid of the man, however, and spent the remainder of the day entrenched
