HAMPTON COURT was quiet in the middle of the night, Kit’s building dark now except for the circle of light thrown by his lantern. Scents of fresh-cut wood and hardening mortar assaulted his nose, and his footsteps echoed in the empty rooms as he wandered them for the last time.
Tomorrow the building was coming down.
Two more days spent poring over the numbers had confirmed his suspicions: the building was flawed. He’d double-checked his calculations, remeasured, triple-checked again. The conclusion was always the same. If left standing, the structure would eventually collapse.
Oh, it wouldn’t fall today or tomorrow—not even this year. In fact, it could be ten or twenty or fifty years before the inherent weakness resulted in disaster. It would certainly remain standing until long after he was appointed Deputy Surveyor, most likely so long after that he doubted he’d ever be blamed.
But when the collapse occurred, the consequences could very well be deadly.
Was his design at fault? Or had someone tampered with the plans? Since the two copies he had didn’t match, he couldn’t be sure. The fact that they were different lent credence to the theory that Harold Washburn—or someone else—had sabotaged this project.
But it didn’t matter. It was Kit’s project, Kit’s responsibility.
There was nothing for it. Although it meant he would miss his deadline and any chance at the appointment and knighthood, he’d had no choice but to order the structure torn down and rebuilt from scratch. He couldn’t live with himself knowing there were potential deaths looming ahead—not even when he suspected those at risk had yet to be born.
All he had left now was a journey to Windsor and the difficult task of explaining his failing to Wren. Then—while his dreams were torn down along with this building—he would go to Trentingham as promised. Once there, he would finalize the plans for Lord Trentingham’s greenhouse…and tell Lady Trentingham why he was no longer worthy of marrying her daughter.
He grabbed an exquisite carved panel—that, at least, could be salvaged—and exited the building without looking back.
He’d long ago learned there was no point in that.