For He had surely blessed her. Life with a man she loved. All her valuables redeemed from the pawn shop. Penny thriving in a respected school. How could life get any better?
“And so it is my great pleasure—”Mr. Toffit stretched to his full height, his tall hat compensating for what he lacked—“to declare the Royston Historical Museum is now officially open to the public, with many exhibits and more to come—featuring none other than some local finds from Inman Manor. Now then, Mr. Webb, if you please.” With a flourish, he handed Bram a pair of large shears, their silver blades gleaming in the June sunshine.
“Thank you, Mr. Toffit, but I should like to defer the honourto Professor Emeritus Sebastian Pendleton.” Bram pressed the scissors into his uncle’s grip with a wink and a smile.
As Uncle Pendleton approached the ribbon, Eva whispered in her husband’s ear. “I can still hardly believe Sir George granted your uncle not only his pension but a new title as well.”
“I yet smile when I think of it,” Bram whispered back. “Though I doubt if Grimwinkle does.”
“He deserved to be dismissed! His thievery of your uncle’s notes should have been brought to light decades before this, not to mention his paying off Mr. Trestwell to hinder your dig.”
A sly grin spread on her husband’s lips. “Have you not yet learned, wife, that all transpires in God’s timing, not yours?”
Apparently not, though she was loath to admit it aloud.
The ribbon fell. Applause thundered. Mr. Toffit opened the door wide and stationed himself at the head of the receiving line.
Bram pulled out his silver pocket watch, and after a glance at the glass face, tucked it away. “Right on time, though I should have expected nothing less. Are you ready to receive our first patrons?”
“I am.” She smiled as Bram guided her to their designated spot near the open door. Guests ascended the stairs, excited chatter filling the air. Truly, it was a lovely day in all respects—save one.
She glanced up at Bram. “How I wish Penny were here. She would have loved such excitement.”
Bram reached for her hand, giving her fingers a reassuring squeeze. “Your sister is devoted to her studies.”
True enough. Though a bit hesitant to enroll at first, after encouragement from Bram and her, Penny had found pure contentment at the Royal Normal College and Academy of Music for the Blind, for she’d said as much in her most recent correspondence. She’d joined the choir, excelled in mastering Braille, and had even discovered a knack for piano. Gratitudeswelled in Eva’s chest. The windfall from the antiquities of the cursed acres had been a godsend, affording her sister the opportunity to thrive in the finest institution England had to offer—something Eva had never dreamed could happen.
“Eva!” Lottie squealed.
She barely opened her arms before her friend swooped in for an embrace. “Congratulations! This is quite an event for Royston.” She kissed each of Eva’s cheeks.
“Thank you.” She grinned as she looked past Lottie, one brow arching. “But where is your mother? She adores gatherings such as this.”
“She has taken to her bed again. A summer cold, of all things.” Lottie rolled her eyes. “You’d think the woman suffered the plague, with all her moaning and groaning.”
“At least she has not got you tied up watching the younger ones.”
“She does, actually, but I bribed Freddie to keep them busy for a while. I couldn’t miss this event.” Lottie sidestepped to Bram. “If you see any available gents, I wouldn’t mind an introduction.”
“I shall keep an eye open.” He laughed.
“Ho ho!” Mr. Finebridge approached as Lottie moved on to greet Mr. Toffit. “A lovely morning and a fine ceremony. I heard there were to be refreshments, and I can only hope they are of the spirited kind.” He waggled his thick eyebrows, the odour of rum wafting about him.
Eva tried hard not to wrinkle her nose. “There is tea, Mr. Finebridge, as is proper for so early in the day.”
“It’s never too early for a merry spirit, my dear.” He flapped his elbows, then sidled over to Bram. “Say, Webb, did you hear about your old friend Trestwell?”
Eva stiffened.
Bram scowled. “He is no friend of mine, Mr. Finebridge.”
“Exactly as I thought, which should please you to know thefellow is currently laid up in the county jail for disturbing the peace.”
Eva gasped, though truly she ought not be surprised. Richard Trestwell’s brutish ways were destined to catch up with him sometime. “What has he done this time?”
“The usual, scrapped a fight with the wrong man down at the Old Bull.” Mr. Finebridge scratched his side whiskers, a sardonic twist to his lips. “I daresay he’ll be eating mashed potatoes for quite some time. That jaw of his is pretty busted up.”
Bram humphed. “What happened to the other man?”
