Eva set down the paper immediately. “Oh, I’m not purchasing a newspaper. Good day.”
Bypassing the man, whose face had settled into a dangerous glower, she set off at a good clip. She didn’t get very far when the door to the greengrocer’s opened. Crisp leaves swirled inan eddy on the pavement as yellow skirts emerged. Charlotte Channing. Eva couldn’t help but smile. Lottie was a sunbeam of a woman on a grey day such as this. Her bright blue eyes, her golden ringlets hanging in perfect spirals from beneath her bonnet, even the flash of Lottie’s grin never failed to lift Eva’s spirits.
“How lovely to see you in town, my friend! Seems like you never grace the streets of Royston anymore, other than on Sundays.” Lottie shifted a basket of carrots to peck a friendly kiss on Eva’s cheek.
Eva breathed in Lottie’s lingering perfume, a sudden craving for marzipan biscuits rumbling in her stomach. Her friend smelled good enough to eat. “I had a few errands to see to. How is your mother?”
“Still abed, grumbling about her ankle. With the way she’s going on, you’d think she’d been trampled by a herd of elephants instead of taking a simple tumble over Freddie’s toy soldiers. She ought to perform on Drury Lane with such dramatics.” Lottie huffed. “And now she’s set on creating a Guy Fawkes effigy that will go down in history instead of burning up in a fire for a horde of rowdy children. So it’s off to the rag shop for me. Would you like to come along?”
Eva mentally tallied up the days until November fifth, then pursed her lips. “But Guy Fawkes Day isn’t for at least a fortnight.”
“That’s the same thing I said. But you know my mother.” Lottie struck a regal pose, one hand in the air, her voice rising an octave to match Mrs. Channing’s notoriously shrill tone. “One must start early to ensure perfection, Charlotte.”
They both laughed at the parody, garnering them a stern look from a passing duo of black-coated men.
Lottie grabbed Eva’s hands, giving them a little shake. “You will be there this year, won’t you? I missed you dearly last time, though I know it couldn’t be helped, what with your father’sdeath and all.” She squeezed Eva’s fingers before letting go. “Oh, do say you’ll come—you and Penny both!”
“You must know I’d love to spend the evening with you, but I cannot promise anything.” A pang of melancholy twinged her heart. Before Father had died, she’d enjoyed such frivolities as a bonfire or gala. Though she still had yet to account for where he’d gotten such irregular influxes of money for the gowns she used to purchase for those events.
Lottie pinched her cheek lightheartedly. “I won’t take no for an answer, and you know I mean it.”
She surely did. Lottie was a kitten after a saucer of cream, unwilling to let anything get in her way once her mind was set on something. And she could hiss just as vehemently when riled.
“There you are, Miss Inman,” a jolly voice called down the pavement.
They turned to see a potted fern bobbing straight for them, clutched in a man’s arms just above a potbelly.
“Who’s that?” Lottie whispered. “And why is he carrying such a large plant?”
“That is Professor—oomph.” She reflexively flung her arms around the brass pot as Bram’s uncle handed over the greenery.
“Isn’t it a lovely specimen?” He fluffed some of the fronds as he spoke. “It’s an adiantum, lusher than I’d expect it to be with the poor care it was receiving in the bookstore. Criminals. Relegating this beauty to a dusty old corner smelling of camphor. Camphor! What’s this world coming to when a bookseller doesn’t employ the requisite scents of ink and binding glue?”
Eva blew one of the fronds from her face. “I thought you came into town to inquire at the historical society office?”
“Historical society?” He rubbed his jawline a few times before snapping his fingers. “Capital idea, my dear! Enjoy your fern. Good day, miss.” He tipped his hat at Charlotte and strolled off.
“Don’t forget to meet me at the market square so we can ride home together, Professor,” Eva called after him. Whileabsent-mindedness was a common trait of an academic, this man took it to a whole new level. Hopefully it was nothing more serious than that.
Without slowing a step, he waggled his fingers in the air.
Lottie arched a brow. “Don’t tell me that man is living in your house, Eva. Who is he? And why did he not stay long enough for a proper introduction?”
Eva shifted the fern to one hip, cradling it like an overgrown babe. “He’s a bit, em, unconventional. Heandhis crew are staying in the old labourers’ quarters, not in the house.”
Lottie’s curls fairly quivered at this news. “A crew? What sort? Do tell.”
“I suppose I should have explained myself better. Professors Pendleton and Webb have come from Trinity College to dig in the back field on my property. Turns out there are some Roman antiquities buried beneath that fallow ground. They brought some students along and have found several relics.”
“Webb. Webb?” Lottie tasted the name several times, her tongue darting over her lips. “Any relation to the divine fellow we grew up with?”
Eva’s cheeks heated. For the past week, she’d been trying to stay away from the man, and physically, she’d done a good job of it. Yet despite that, her mind had kept injudicious company with him. The night he’d apologized for his past behaviour, he’d been so genuine, so ... She bit her lip. Though she could hardly believe it, he’d seemed vulnerable, at least for a minute, which was quite the stark contrast to the carefree and mischievous boy she remembered. His candid remorse had done something strange to her heart, and she found herself stealing glances in his direction, watching his every move whenever she chanced to be in his vicinity, a certain amount of respect growing for the man he’d become.
But she couldn’t very well tell Lottie such a thing. Her friend would have them married off by Sunday.
Once again, she shifted the big fern, this time holding it in front of her like a shield. “I wouldn’t say he was divine.”
Lottie poohed her words with a wave of her fingers. “Come now. Every girl had a crush on the dashing Bram Webb. You most of all, as I recall. Is he one of the professors you’ve hired?”
