Bram stifled a sigh. Of course Uncle hadn’t. Would the man even remember he’d invited them to view the dig? He shrugged, defying the tension ripping through him. “Must have slipped his mind.”
“I am afraid you will have to reschedule.” Eva tugged at the hems of her sleeves, lamplight brushing over a furrow in her brow. “I am not prepared to host a luncheon.”
Women. Always taking things a step too far when it came to societal expectations. “No meal is required. They’re coming to see the antiquities and the dig, not to eat a bowl of tomato bisque.”
She tapped her finger to her lip, looking as if she might take a bite on her nail. “Are you sure they are not expecting more?”
“If they are, I shall catch a chicken with my teeth and roast it over a fire for them.”
She didn’t laugh. Didn’t smile. Just tap-tap-tapped at her lip.
Clearly she was chasing some rabbit down a hole in her head. An inordinate amount of fuss over the prospect of a few men wishing to examine some relics. Why such tension over a no-frills sort of entertainment?
Then again... Lacing his fingers, he cracked his knuckles. This house needed repair in several spots. Eva and her sister wore somewhat-faded gowns. And every evening he and the men returned to the same fare of soup and bread. Granted, the soup changed, but nothing more substantial was ever served. Either Eva was frugal to a fault, or her money trouble was more than she admitted.
And he’d bet on the latter, judging by that quiver to her lower lip.
“Look, Eva.” He put all his effort into spooling out his words in a soothing tone. “If there is anything you need to talk about, I am a good listening ear.”
She inhaled deeply, visibly pulling herself together. “Thankyou, but there is no need. I look forward to hearing what the historical society has to say about these pieces.”
“Probably a lot of oohs and ahhs.”
Once again she didn’t smile in the least. She merely turned away and scrutinized part of a stone tablet, which of course was absurd. Even if she could read Latin, most of the letters were destroyed.
He carefully pushed the piece aside. “Why did you come here tonight? Why did you seek me out?”
“I, em, I was going to ask you...” A lump traveled her throat as she swallowed audibly. “Well, it was not anything important, and it is getting late. Good night.” She whirled, the hem of her skirt whapping against his ankles.
Bram folded his arms, his gaze following her out the door, all the while wondering whatunimportant reason had driven her to this room in the dead of night.
10
Four days. How absurd. By now she should have invited Bram to the Guy Fawkes bonfire, yet she hadn’t. She’d tried, several times, but the words didn’t make it past her lips. Eva tipped the watering can, draining liquid into the outlandishly large fern in the sitting room. Why the sudden shyness around a man she’d known practically all her life?
She set the watering can on the mat near the baseboard and took to pacing a circular route. Late-morning sunshine bled through the windows, easing her foul mood somewhat. Another mild October day, which would be a boon for the historical society members who were due to arrive soon. Perhaps after they left she could steal a moment with Bram.Yes,that’s it.A quick invitation and they’d both go about their day. Nothing could be easier.
But even so, she pressed her fingers against her belly. What in the world was wrong with her? It was only a silly bonfire. She was overthinking the matter, that’s what, and all because of eleven wonderful words.
“You are—and ever will be—a beauty inmy eyes.”
She stopped dead in her tracks. Naturally she had no rightto believe such foolishness, but it had been kind of Bram to say such a thing, kinder still to voice it without a smirk or hint of jesting to his tone. Despite all his boyish pranks of long ago, it appeared he wished nothing more than to be a good friend. She sucked in a little breath. That was it! They were, after all, friends. Inviting him to a bonfire wasn’t some kind of romantic gesture. She’d simply say there were Guy Fawkes festivities in Royston and he could ride along with her if he liked. His crew, too, if they wished. Simple. Innocuous.
Perfect.
Relieved, she strolled to the large mirror above the mantel and tucked some stray hairs into her chignon. Usually she would be reading to Penny right now, but thankfully her sister had been amenable to listening toLittle Womenearlier than normal—as long as Eva would drive her over for a visit with her friend Amelia after service on Sunday. The little bargainer. Her sister had also started pestering her about attending a school for the blind as suggested to her by Professors Pendleton and Bram, but that wasn’t something Eva would barter for. Not quite yet, anyway. Penny was only twelve. Surely waiting another year or two wouldn’t hurt, when she could hopefully send her sister to school by her own funding rather than relying on the charity of Mrs. Mortimer.
Eva nibbled on her nail. This pestering by her sister was to be expected, though, in light of all the time Eva had been spending at the dig site and with Bram in the evenings. Guilt niggled at the back of her mind. She’d promised to take care of Penny, to be there for her, but lately her thoughts were elsewhere—namely on a grey-eyed man with a ready smile. She recalled the disappointed look in Penny’s eyes yesterday when she’d declined an invitation to play the piano together in order that she might discuss with Bram the price he thought that amphora might bring in.
Bah! How could she balance it all? She winced as she bit too near the quick of her nail. Penny had accused her of neglectrecently, a sharp reminder her little poppet was growing up and becoming more perceptive. Eva had tried to make Penny understand the importance of this dig, the significance of the discoveries, but her sister had merely turned away, her sightless eyes shining with tears no words from Eva could wipe away.
And then there was Bram. His insistence that Penny needed more education than Eva could provide made her bristle. He had no idea of the depth of her responsibilities.
Sighing, she pressed her hands to her cheeks. She had to find a way to keep Penny close while allowing the girl the freedom to grow. But how? How could she be everywhere, do everything, without cracking under the pressure?
The front bell rang. Though it was only several members from the historical society, Eva pinched her cheeks for colour. The Inman estate might be falling down around her ears, but she didn’t have to look decrepit.
By the time she made it to the front hall, Dixon and Mary were already collecting the hats of two men and wraps of two women.Women?Oh,that’s right.She’d forgotten Mrs. White was a board member. But since when had Lottie taken an interest in history? Then again, one could never pin down the merry whims of Charlotte Channing.
