She stiffened at the raw fury in his voice. She’d hate to be the one to cross swords with this man.
His uncle approached, bold enough to pat Bram on the back. “Calm down. The fellows will set this to rights.”
“They should not have to set anything to rights. They should be working on the dig. We do not have time for this!” He stomped away and grabbed a shovel. The students gave him a wide berth. Good call, for he pitched a furious storm of sand into the air.
Eva turned to Professor Pendleton. “I understand Bram is upset, and rightfully so. As am I. These ill happenings are vexing. But what I do not understand is why he feels so rushed. You and your crew are welcome to take as much time as you need. I hope you are not feeling pressured by me in any way.”
“Oh, dear lady, you are ever so gracious.” A wry smile quirked his lips. “Unfortunately, Professor Grimwinkle is not.”
“What do you mean?”
His eyes glazed over for a moment as if Bram’s uncle had vacated his body and nothing but a shell stood in front of her.
“Professor? Are you all right?”
“Hmm?” He squinted, studying her as if they’d just met, then gave a hearty chuckle. “Why, yes! This dig is quite important. I feel certain this is the site of Caelum Academia. We just need to prove it.”
“To Professor Grimwinkle, I take it. But why the rush?”
“I’m in no hurry, but as I recall, there was something to do with someone’s job being on the line.” He massaged his temple with two fingers, late-morning sun glinting off the silvery hair he mussed. “I could be wrong about that, though. Sometimes things get a bit jumbled, you know. At any rate, it’s nothing to worry about. We’ll meet with the board at the end of the term, and all will be well.”
Eva glanced at Bram, a pile of sand now behind him. He clearly didn’t share the same calm as his uncle ... perhaps because he knew exactly whose job was on the line.
16
A hint of frankincense wafted across the centuries. The tang of old leather and the mouldering dust of foreign lands floated on the air as well. Bram breathed deeply as he paced the length of the history department’s large storage room. Artifacts of various sorts and regions lined the enormous shelves. If he listened hard enough, he’d hear the breath of a thousand whispers telling their stories. Of all Trinity College’s prestigious halls and hallowed classrooms, this was his favorite place to be ... usually.
Today he’d rather be basking in the sunshine of the unseasonably warm November morn, sitting next to Eva on the bench where he’d left her reading a book. There was no predicting what sort of mood Grimwinkle would be in—sour, antagonistic, or outright poison-tongued—and though it’d taken much convincing on his part, he’d talked Eva into allowing him to meet with the man on his own to spare her any upset.
For the man could upset a saint.
He cracked his knuckles. Hopefully no more mishaps would occur at the dig site during his absence. He didn’t believe such poppycock about some ancient curse on a square of dirt and turf, but he did believe in the wickedness of men. Someone was upto no good. Then again, it could be pranking gone bad by his students, but to what end? They’d had to work all the harder yesterday, so that didn’t make sense. Who else would wish to obstruct his work? Grimwinkle, perhaps, for the last thing that man would want was solid proof of Caelum Academia, but he was here in Cambridge. The motive was there but not the opportunity. A sigh barreled out of him. He could only hope whatever or whoever the cause was would soon be exposed.
Pausing in front of the three crates on the table, he pulled out his pocket watch. Eleven thirty. The man was a half hour late. Heaven help him if he were the one to arrive tardy to a meeting, a sickening double standard.
Wooden clogsclick-clackedat a fast pace, growing louder. Bram tucked away his pocket watch as Professor Grimwinkle dashed in, the tails of his suit coat flapping against his backside. A fine sheen glistened on the man’s upper lip and broad brow. Either he’d been participating in a marathon, or his morning classes had pushed him beyond his limits. Bram gave him a sharp nod. “Good morning, Professor Grimwinkle.”
“What is left of it, you mean,” he grumbled as he stopped across the table from Bram. “Since I have taken on your classes, my schedule has cinched tight. Where is Professor Pendleton?”
The same question Eva had asked him when he’d pulled the wagon up to the manor’s front door. It had been a gamble she’d even accompany him unchaperoned to Cambridge—or allow him to go it alone. In the end, though, being that the artifacts had been packed neatly and were ready to sell, not to mention the glorious weather, she’d acquiesced.
“My uncle awoke with terrible back pain, sir. He must have wrenched it yesterday at the site, what with all the digging. I felt it best he stay behind and recuperate.”
Disgust tightened Grimwinkle’s already-thin lips to a threadbare line. “It seems the man is unfit for anything. I should think the bulk of the excavation would’ve been finished by now. Itwasn’t that large of a site. Are you meeting with any setbacks I should know about?”
Blast. Had Uncle Pendleton told the man about their troubles? Bram gritted his teeth. “There are always challenges, as you well know.”
“Yes, I do know.” An unreadable gleam shone in Grimwinkle’s eyes. “Now then, I haven’t much time. What is it you wish to show me? Have you found the grail?”
“Not yet, but we have uncovered many valuable and varied artifacts.” He pulled the already-loosened lid from one of the crates. “See for yourself.”
Bending over the box, Grimwinkle poked about, removing relic after relic, and mumbling the whole while. “Of Roman origin, good, good. Second century, I’d say. Relatively well preserved. Interesting variety.” At length, he set down a long-necked vase. “Of course, all this proves is that you have found an ancient site, not necessarily that it is from the supposed dwellings of Caelum Academia.”
“I have every hope we shall yet find some evidence, but that is not why I requested this morning’s meeting. As you have noted, this collection is diverse and in good condition, offering a comprehensive look at the historical evolution of the region. Such a variety could greatly benefit the education of our students, allowing them tactile learning instead of only what is printed in books.” Squaring his shoulders, he sucked in a fortifying breath. “I propose the department purchase this lot.”
“As you well know...” Grimwinkle plucked an errant wood shaving off his perfectly tailored sleeve, sneering at it as if he held a rat by the tail. “We only have so much money to go around, Professor Webb. Why should the college buy these items in particular?”
“The provenance of these artifacts is exceptional.” Bram picked up a little lamp and rested it on his palm. “Take a look at this. It is not every day one finds such a wealth of treasuresso close to home, which adds an extra layer of relevance to the collection. Think of it. With these pieces, Trinity College could become a hub for the study of regional history, and that is sure to please investors.”
