Blocking Mr. Blackwood’s view, Eva handed him a cup lest they all be forced to entertain a sermon. “Here you are, Mr. Blackwood. Haven’t we had fine weather of late? How long do you suppose it will last?”
“As long as God allows, I should think.” He sipped his tea.
Eva breathed relief as she served his sister. Of necessity, Mrs. Mortimer perched on the edge of a chair. She wouldn’t fit between the arms of it otherwise. The woman was grand of girth and even grander in appetite, the gleam in her eyes hungry as she gazed at the simple plate of toast circles lightly smeared with jam. Despite being a widow, she laughed at life, her plump cheeks ever rosy, her great bosom always jiggling. She was a blazing sun compared to her brother’s eternal midnight.
But she was also a whirlwind. Her inexhaustible vigor and incessant chatter never failed to overwhelm even the heartiest of souls.
Eva offered her the plate.
“What an unusual idea to serve toast. Very simple—yet delicious, no doubt.” Mrs. Mortimer immediately plucked two small circles. Any other woman would have snubbed such a common refreshment. By the time Eva poured her own tea, Mrs. Mortimer had already finished them both off and had her head tipped back, draining her cup.
“I was so relieved to see you at services yesterday morning, Miss Inman.” The woman reached for another piece of toast. “And your darling sister as well. Will she be joining us this morning?”
Eva blew the steam off her brew. “I had thought she might, but she wasn’t in her room. It appears she’s off on an adventure.”
“But the child is blind!” Mrs. Mortimer fanned her face with a lacy handkerchief. “Does that not concern you?”
It did. Every time she couldn’t account for her sister’s whereabouts, worry moved in and unpacked its trunks for a good long visit. It took all her willpower to force a pleasant smile. “I am certain Penny will return by eleven, which is our usual reading hour. She never misses it.”
Mr. Blackwood set his half-drunk cup on the table, his uneaten toast taunting Mrs. Mortimer.
“Such waste, brother.” She leaned forward to pinch the treat.
He blocked her hand. “Gluttony is a sin, sister.” His glower drifted toward Eva. “And what did you find out about the ring on your visit to Cambridge, Miss Inman?”
It was a harmless enough question, but the intensity in his gaze was already sifting her answer, though she had yet to speak a word. She fortified herself with a sip of stout Assam. “It turns out the relic is of historical value. There is a small team of archaeologistscurrently in my field who are hoping to discover larger items of greater worth.”
The rector’s thick brows gathered into a thundercloud. “I hope I need not warn you about false hopes or greed. It is our duty as Christians to rely solely upon the grace and mercies of God.”
How dare he assume she wasn’t depending upon God? Ever since she’d been a child this man had used harsh and authoritarian methods. His sermons and teachings, filled with brimstone and fire, had scared her at the time. Now his insinuations just made her angry. Eva set down her teacup, porcelain rattling. “I have no doubt you would never allow a sheep of yours to stray onto such a delinquent path.”
“Just so.” A flicker of approval—so faint she almost missed it—flashed in his gaze. “And yet you mention a team of archaeologists. Who are they?”
“There is Regius Professor Sebastian Pendleton, Professor Bram Webb, and three of Mr. Webb’s students, making a total of five men on the job.”
“Webb?” The reverend rolled the name around his mouth like a bite of rancid meat. “I seem to recall something associated with that name.”
She recalled far too much about the man. Oh, what a foolish girl she’d been, secretly pining after a silly boy three years her senior. “I am not surprised you may have heard of him. He is quite knowledgeable about Roman antiquities and, I am told, a professor of some renown.”
“Well,” Mrs. Mortimer cut in, “I for one pray there shall be many treasures unearthed, for I know it cannot be easy for you to care for this home and your sister.” The woman tsked with a little shake of her head. “And all on your own. I shudder to think of your burden.”
So did she. “As the reverend says, I must rely upon God.” Andwhile he may have meant that as a spiritually cutting remark, she meant it in earnest.
“Miss Inman...” Setting her own cup aside, Mrs. Mortimer went back to fingering her pearls. “I wonder if I may be so bold as to make a suggestion.”
Oh dear. Eva ran her palms along the cool fabric of her skirt, smoothing out imaginary wrinkles. The one thing the rector’s sister could expound upon for hours was beauty—the need for it, how to maintain it, and above all, Eva’s lack in that department. She ought to know, for she’d suffered the woman’s lengthy discourses on more than one occasion. So it took every ounce of her willpower to force a pleasant tone. “I am all ears, Mrs. Mortimer.”
“Very good.” The lady inhaled deeply, her bosom threatening to spill out like overstuffed cushions. “As you know from our time together at the relief society, I delight in works of charity. Through my vast connections, I found a suitable placement as a jeweler’s apprentice for the Widow Kitman’s lame-legged son. Then there was the cleft-lip girl belonging to the Novaks. You know, the immigrant family who live in the old Hoffman place just outside of town? I daresay the girl is happy enough to be working in a fine home as a scullery maid. And let’s not forget little deaf Lucy. Poor soul—though not so poor anymore. Working as a junior seamstress earns her a fair penny, sure enough.”
“No one can call into question your compassion and generosity, Mrs. Mortimer.”
“Tread carefully, sister. Flattery is a deceitful poison, one that goes down smoothly yet festers into a canker in the soul.” While the warning was clearly directed at Mrs. Mortimer, the rector aimed his scowl at Eva.
“Of course, brother.” Mrs. Mortimer laughed heartily, the tight curls on her brow dancing along with her merriment. “But as I was saying, I have a suggestion for Miss Inman to consider.” She turned to Eva. “As a means to alleviate any sort of strain onyour financial situation, I would be more than happy to sponsor young Miss Inman to attend a notable school for the blind that I am associated with in London.”
Eva’s heart tightened in her chest. “London! But that’s so far away.”
“She must leave home sometime, my dear. Surely you’re not thinking of keeping her under your care indefinitely? Why, I daresay placing your sister elsewhere will free you up to find a suitable match for yourself.” The lace handkerchief flew out again, this time employed at dabbing the corners of Mrs. Mortimer’s eyes. “It’s a lonely world without a man, take it from one who knows.”
