Probably very deceitful, judging by the hitch in her spirit.
She unbuttoned her coat, loathing to disappoint the woman yet hating even more to lie. “Now that the sun is up, the roads are passable. I think you should know, though, that the professor and I did try to make it home yesterday, but the storm turned so fierce, we ended up staying at the Robinsons’ farmhouse.”
“The Robinsons’?” The tail end of the name hissed like the whisper of Satan himself. Dixon’s lips pinched tightly. Clearly she was mortified—as she had every right to be. “Well, I won’t speak any more on the matter. Suffice it to say you made it home in one piece, and for that I am grateful.”
Eva reached for the old housekeeper’s hands and gave them a little squeeze. “You are a dear.”
“I trust you, miss. It’s that young professor I have my doubts about.” Dixon sniffed as if she smelled something rotten.
“I assure you Professor Webb was a perfect gentleman the entire evening. He kept me safe and warm by staying up all night to tend the fire. Now then, after such an ordeal I crave a hot bath. Would you have one drawn as soon as possible, please?”
“Yes, miss, but a few things first. If you intend to see Miss Penny, you’ll have to go out back, for she is currently engaged in building some sort of snow fort with the college gents. Professor Pendleton is yet abed with a sore back and didn’t think it prudent to send the students to the dig unattended. I have every hope, though, that Mrs. Pottinger’s mustard poultice will have him back on his feet by tomorrow.”
“Indeed, I shall pray to that end.” Poor fellow. Eva smoothed her palms along the wrinkled fabric of her skirt, not that it did any good. This gown needed a good washing as much as she did. “I guess it is straight to the bath for me, then.”
“Not quite.” The short housekeeper held up a rigid finger. “Mrs. Mortimer and Mrs. Quibble are waiting for you in the sitting room. I told them you weren’t at home and didn’t know when you’d return, but they were quite adamant about waiting around on the off chance you arrived soon.”
“Oh dear. I look a wreck. Would you please distract them so I can at least change out of this rumpled gown and do something about my hair? Maybe you could—”
“I thought I heard voices.” A voice chirpier than a wood warbler drew both their gazes. Mrs. Quibble peeked out the sitting room door, an absurdly feathered pelerine half cape draped about her shoulders. “Ahh, Miss Inman. Just the woman we were hoping to see.” And yet as her gaze swept over Eva, the widening of the woman’s birdlike eyes expressed she wasn’t hoping to see Eva in such a state of dishevelment.
Eva’s fingers frantically tucked and poked at her hair to somehow contain the wild nest. “Good morning, Mrs. Quibble.Please pardon my appearance. I had quite a ride from Cambridge.”
“You drove all the way from Cambridge this morning?” The question pipped out of her.
“Not quite, but I am sure you are not here to discuss such trivialities. Shall we make ourselves more comfortable?” After a nod of dismissal to Dixon, Eva crossed to the sitting room.
“Oh, there you are and—my!” Seated on the sofa, Mrs. Mortimer pressed her sausage fingers to the pearls at her neck. “Pardon my saying so, Miss Inman, but you look atrocious. Tsk, tsk. You have overtaxed yourself once again. I daresay you take on far too much.”
“I, em, yes. I suppose so.” Desperate for a different line of conversation, she spied the tea set on the table. Perfect. “Let us have some tea, shall we?” Yet she was sorely disappointed when naught but a few drops dribbled from the teapot. She set it back down and strode to the service bell. “I will ring for more.”
“Please don’t do so on my account.” Mrs. Quibble sat on a wingback, the feathers on her capelet taking flight with the movement.
Mrs. Mortimer held up a finger. “If you’re going to the trouble, dear, I wouldn’t mind a few more of those tasty jam toasts.”
Of course you wouldn’t.
Eva bit back the retort as she took the opposite end of the sofa. “I am sorry to have kept you both waiting. What is so urgent you felt you must await my return?”
Mrs. Quibble opened her mouth, but Mrs. Mortimer beat her to the punch. “Miss Ellsworth’s aunt died last Friday, God rest her. Apparently the woman had a London town house that must be disposed of. Being that her next of kin is Miss Ellsworth’s mother, Miss Ellsworth now finds herself in the position of having to accompany the woman—for her mother is, as you’ll remember, confined to an invalid chair. They departed yesterday.”
Just then, Dixon entered. Eva ordered more teaandtoast before turning back to the ladies. “That is dreadful news. Please convey my condolences to Miss Ellsworth when you next speak with her.”
“We shall,” Mrs. Quibble said before Mrs. Mortimer could steal the entire conversation. “And yet we did not come all this way simply to elicit sympathy. The thing is—”
“Miss Ellsworth was overseeing the annual Christmas fundraising gala,” Mrs. Mortimer cut in. “And we should dearly love for you to take it on. You have such an aptitude as a hostess.”
Eva leaned back in the chair, one finger tapping on the arm of it. She had missed serving with the relief society. The camaraderie of banding with other women for the good of others made her heart happy. She was beyond weary of always thinking about money and Penny. How delightful it would be to set her mind on something else—and a worthy cause at that—so the prospect was tempting indeed.
Her finger tapped faster. The society was in a conundrum. They needed her, and it would pain her to refuse them.
Yet life was often pain, was it not?
She stopped tapping. “As much as I would like to accept, I am afraid I shall have to decline. As Mrs. Mortimer has pointed out, my hands are quite full here at home. Not only have I my sister to look after, I am also hosting a team of archaeologists from Trinity College.”
“I had heard the rumour.” Mrs. Quibble’s beakish nose lifted as she stared down the length of it. “Yet as Mrs. Mortimer also pointed out when we were discussing replacements, you could organize the gala with your eyes closed and hands tied, so well suited are you for such a task.”
“I am surprised to hear it, for she knows how overtaxed I am.”
