“And how did things go with Grimwinkle?”
Bram smirked. “As well as can be expected. He gave no answer about purchasing the goods, yet bid that I leave them in his care instead of shopping them around anywhere else.”
His uncle scowled. “Odious man.”
“Here. This ought to make you forget about him.” Bram pulled the cigar he’d bought from an inside pocket and handed over what was left of the matches in the box.
Uncle Pendleton’s thick brows lifted. “A cigar? I can hardly believe you didn’t smoke this on your way back to Royston.”
“Miss Inman would not have appreciated that nor, I suspect, would she welcome me smelling of tobacco when I meet with her to go over the day’s findings. Speaking of which”—he rose—“I should see about pulling the students away from their snow frenzy, though I suspect the bigger fight will be convincing Penny it is time to head back to the house.”
Uncle Pendleton reached for Bram’s sleeve, giving it a slight tug. “Tarry a moment, will you?”
Alarm crept down his spine. Slowly, he straddled the wooden chair. “What is on your mind, Uncle?”
“You ... and Miss Inman.”
Oh. Of course. He might have known being gone all night alone with the woman would raise a few eyebrows, though he hadn’t expected his uncle to play the part of a suspicious old aunt. “I swear nothing happened between us.” He held up both hands. “We stayed the night in a farmhouse where I kept a fire going and Miss Inman slept. That is all there was to it.”
A grumble rumbled in his uncle’s throat. “I don’t think so. I know my mind has been slipping of late, but on the matter of you and Miss Inman, I have complete clarity.”
Sadness twisted Bram’s empty gut. Since when had Uncle Pendleton noticed his faculties were dimming? This was the first he’d spoken of it. Had the old fellow been silently harbouring angst and fears about the situation?
Unwilling to see the pain or confusion that would surely bein the man’s eyes, he snagged a blanket off the floor and draped it over his uncle’s feet. “We all grow absent-minded as we age. There is no shame in it.”
“No, no. That’s not at all what I’m talking about. This discussion focuses solely on you and Miss Inman.” With a small groan, he stayed Bram’s hand from fussing with the blanket. “What are your intentions toward the woman?”
Bram pulled away, regretting that he’d caused his uncle pain and bemoaning even more the turn of this conversation. “I intend to perform the most professionally successful dig for Miss Inman that I can.”
“I meant personally.” Uncle’s dark eyes drilled into him, seeking depths Bram wasn’t about to allow him to descend.
“We have been friends since childhood, and I see no reason why we should not always be.”
“And yet you wish it was more than that, don’t you?”
Bah! How could the man possibly know that? Then again, Uncle Pendleton had always seen past any façade he constructed. Bram folded his arms over the back of the chair, a weak shield but the only one he had at the moment. “Is it so obvious?”
“Perhaps not to everyone, but I’ve become adept at deciphering you like an ancient codex.” A merry twinkle gleamed in his uncle’s eyes. “Do you love her?”
Did he love her? What a question. His uncle may as well have asked the moon if it adored the night sky, or the wind if it fancied caressing tree branches. Those things just went together—and always would. Bram rubbed the toe of his boot over the rag rug. Honestly, he wasn’t sure what love was, but he did know he had a driving need to be in Eva’s presence.
Though he’d never speak a word of that aloud.
He grabbed the chair to drag it back to the door. “My feelings for Miss Inman are irrelevant. Now, I should get those students off to work.”
Uncle Pendleton grabbed his hand, the man’s fingers hotagainst Bram’s. “Matters of the heart are never irrelevant, my boy, a lesson I learned the hard way. Believe it or not, I was young once, determined to make a name for myself. There was a woman—brilliant of mind, gentle of spirit—whom I loved with all my heart. But I was too slow to let her know my feelings, too entangled with my career, and she found someone else. I never got over Catherine, and I never will. Donotmake the same mistake.”
Bram’s jaw dropped. “I had no idea. Why did you never tell me this?”
“It was long ago, years before you came to live with me. The only reason I’m telling you now is so you don’t go to the grave with the same regrets as I. Love is a gift, worth risking everything for, and if Eva is the one you love, then go after her—and let nothing stand in your way.”
A hammer to the skull would have been a kinder blow. His love for Eva did run deep, but he was trapped in a tangled web of duty and practicality. As much as he longed for a future with her at his side, that reality was as distant and improbable as the curator position he’d turned down at the new museum. His immediate priority was keeping a sharp eye on Uncle Pendleton until the end of next spring. Without securing his pension, the older man would die with more than regrets. He’d die a pauper.
Bram gave his uncle’s fingers a squeeze, then pulled away with a dip of his head. Even if Uncle Pendleton’s welfare were not a concern, Bram couldn’t ignore the harsh realities facing Eva. She bore the heavy burden of caring for her blind sister and maintaining a dilapidated home that threatened to collapse under the weight of neglect and mounting taxes. Love alone wouldn’t meet those needs, nor would a lowly professor’s salary ... though the sale of the relics would surely turn around Inman Manor to a respectable state and provide a suitable yearly income for Eva and Penny.
But he couldn’t very well live off her earnings, not with any self-respect intact.
He lugged the chair across the floor. As much as he’d like to take his uncle’s advice and pursue Eva, how could he possibly overcome the very real obstacles standing in his way?
