A great chuckle rumbled in his uncle’s throat. “I hardly think so, but to make you happy...” He popped his glasses on the bridge of his nose and fumbled about in his pockets, eventually turning them inside out for good measure. Lint floated to the floor, as did a broken pencil lead and a balled-up horehound wrapper, but no jewelry clattered to the wooden planks. “As you can see, the brooch must be elsewhere.”
“But it ought to be here. After I documented the depth of the engravings, I set it down and shut the workroom door just before we all left for the fair yesterday. You are the only other person allowed in here, so think, Uncle. Think hard!”
“Do not use that tone with me, young man.” He aimed a finger at Bram’s chest. “I am not one of your students.”
Bram huffed a frustrated sigh. “You are right. My apologies. You have your bag, and I have my calipers.” He waved the tool in the air. “We will simply stop by the cottage and give it a quick look over for that brooch. I am sure we will find it.”
Brave words. Too bad they were false. He tucked the calipers into his pocket, feeling that if he didn’t find that brooch, the blame would be pinned to his shirt. Dread sliced through him like a sharp knife. He knew exactly what it was like to be labeled as guilty for something he didn’t do—and all because of his uncle, no less. This was uncomfortably familiar ground.
He turned toward the door, surprised to see a dark-haired girl buttoned up in a snug wool coat leaning against the doorframe. Once again he sighed. While he liked the girl—he truly did—he didn’t have the patience today to answer Penny’s incessant questions.
“Good morning, Professors. Are you looking for—”
“Sorry, Penny. This is not a good time.”
“But I know—”
“Youarea wealth of knowledge, a very bright girl, but I am in a hurry.” He stalked past her—or tried to.
Her small hand snagged his sleeve. “Take me with you today. I can help on the field. I know I can.”
“No, not today.” He gently peeled her hand from his arm, still cross about the missing brooch.
“Oh, let the girl come,” Uncle said merrily at his back. “I can keep an eye on her.”
Bram coughed to keep from snorting. The man couldn’t keep track of a simple brooch let alone a precocious twelve-year-old. “I am sorry, Uncle, but my answer stands.”
“Please,” Penny pled. “I spent all my coins on fritters yesterday. Allow me a chance to earn more.”
“No. This is not a good day for me to have you underfoot.”
It was eerie the way she tipped her face up to him, a storm brewing in her sightless eyes.
Blast. He plowed his fingers through his hair. “That came out wrong. What I meant to say was—”
“I revise my opinion of you, sir. You arenotas jolly as I credited. You’re not jolly at all, and I wish you’d never come to my house. You take up all my sister’s time. She is forever closeted away with you either in this room or traipsing out to the site, and I am left alone with nothing but my songs to console me. You should leave.” Her voice rose to a raging tempest. “You should all leave!”
“What is going on in here?” Eva strode through the door, her gaze bouncing between him and Penny.
Bram spread his hands. “I refused your sister’s request to go out on the field today. That is all.”
“Oh, Penny. Such theatrics.” She closed in on the girl, curling her hands over her sister’s shoulders and giving her a little squeeze. “A lady does not behave so passionately. If you are going to carry on like this, then you will have to do so in your bedroom and not come out until you are of a sounder mind.”
“Fine. I don’t want to be with you anyway.” Penny shrugged away and advanced on him, one of her finger’s poking him in the arm—barely. Any farther to the left and she’d have missed completely. “I don’t want to be with you either. And I hope you never, ever find your stupid missing brooch!” In her haste to stomp from the room, the girl’s hip smacked the table’s corner, sending a few relics toppling and rolling several pencils to the floor.
“Penelope Rose!” Eva planted her fists on her hips. “You will come back here right this minute and apologize to Mr. Webb.”
“Let her go.” Bram collected the fallen pencils. “I do not require an apology.”
Eva nibbled her lip. “Very well, but what was she going on about a missing brooch?”
“Nothing to worry about.” Bram glanced at his uncle. “It’s probably misplaced.”
“Is it of value?”
“Like I said, do not worry—”
“Oh yes!” Uncle Pendleton cut in as he readjusted the bag strap on his shoulder. “I should say the piece is valuable. Quite rare in its design.”
