“Mmm.” The sound rumbled in Grimwinkle’s throat. “I am not certain. Investors are fickle creatures.”
Bram set the lamp on the table. Money always talked, and he intended to give it the best voice he could. “Not if it comes down to increasing profits. Handled properly, once word gets out that our history department—and ours alone—houses such a unique cache, potential students will be drawn in like senators to the Forum.”
“Possibly.” Grimwinkle tugged at his sleeves, straightening imaginary wrinkles. “I shall have to give it some thought before I present it to the budget committee.”
“But you will present it?”
“I make no promises.”
A frustrated sigh leached out of him. He should have gone straight to the Fitzwilliam Museum. With a swipe of his hand, Bram set the wooden lid atop the crate. “If you are not interested, then simply say so. There are other buyers to be approached. I merely wished Trinity to have the first chance at these beauties.”
“Leave it.” Grimwinkle planted a well-manicured hand atop the box. “I will sort through these items later and get back to you.”
Bram met the man’s gaze with a steely resolve. “And when will that be?”
“I am a busy man, Professor. I cannot say for certain, but I will give you an answer.”
Maybe so. Bram’s jaw clenched. But would the man’s answer be in time for Eva to pay her taxes?
She didn’t deserve such a lovely day as this, having lounged about decadently in the uncommonly warm November sun, reading to her heart’s content until Bram had returned. The history department head was considering the purchase of the relics, which wasn’t exactly what she’d hoped for. She’d rather have the money in hand right now. But Bram had assured her in his usual convincing way that though it wasn’t as quick of a turnover as she’d like, she would be paid for the antiquities sooner rather than later. A test of trust, she supposed, in more ways than one, and she wasn’t sure she liked such uncertainty.
Still, the day thus far had been perfectly splendid, and now, leaving a cozy public room where she’d eaten her fill of a rich lamb pie with a flaky crust—and on the arm of a handsome man, no less—Eva couldn’t be more content. Why, one might almost think she was a somebody. A lady of leisure. Her lips twisted into a smirk. How far from the truth that was. She couldn’t even afford to buy new ribbons for her faded bonnet.
As she and Bram stepped out the door of the Pickerel Inn, that very bonnet took flight in a gust of wind. She shivered as she lunged for it. My, how chill it had turned. She just might use that old blanket they’d tucked between the crates on the drive here to wrap up in on the journey home.
As she retied the frayed ribbons beneath her chin, Bram flipped open the lid of his beloved pocket watch. After a glance at the time, he tucked it away and re-offered his arm. “How about a quick stop before we collect the horse and wagon?”
She tucked her fingers against his sleeve, grateful for the warmth against her thin gloves. While they strolled, she lifted her face to the sky. Thick clouds scudded overhead, gunmetal grey and looking quite cross. “Should we? Looks like we are in for some bad weather.”
“And you are worried you shall melt?” He nudged her with his arm.
“Not at all.” She elbowed him right back. “But you just might.”
He chuckled. “I think we are both made of sterner stuff, but I also think you will be unable to refuse what I have in mind.”
Against her will, she admired the strong cut of his jaw and the way his shaggy hair bounced against it. He needed a trim, but was he aware of what must surely be a triviality in his world of buried treasures?
“What makes you think, sir, that I would find one of your ideas irresistible?”
“Because, milady, though you may not wish to admit so, sometimes I do have brilliant ideas.” He grinned as he stopped in front of a building with a long black awning, enormous windows, and a hanging placard that readW.Heffer & Sons Ltd,Booksellers andPublishers—her favorite Cambridge haunt. Well, well. Hewasentirely correct.
Threatening sky or not, there was no possible way she’d pass up an opportunity like this.
Bram paused in front of the door. “Shall we?”
She lifted her nose in the air. “Perhaps just for a minute.”
Then she bolted through the door with a laugh, the chime of a brass bell matching her merriment. Strange how frequently she smiled with this man, but that didn’t deserve a second thought as she gazed at the spines of stories galore. Ink and leather, paper and promises, she breathed it all in. So many books! How lovely it would be to pack up her traveling bag and simply move in here. To live, eat, and sleep surrounded by tales of all sorts. What a dream.
And what nonsense.
Comeback to earth,girl.
For a while she wandered aimlessly, led by nothing other than fancying one book cover after another until she came across a lovely edition ofLittleWomen. She ran her finger along the spine, appreciating the feel of the embossed golden letters, thenslowly drifted her touch to the book next to it. Her lips parted on an intake of air as she pulled the beauty from the shelf.Good Wives.The sequel toLittle Women. Oh, how Penny would love to hear this one. Actually, she wouldn’t mind a bit herself.
Cradling the new book like a babe in arms, she sank onto a nearby chair and reverently opened the cover.
“A merry Christmas, girls!” someone called from the other side of the shop. “What are you going to do with yourselves today?”
