Everyone froze at the indictment.
Bram pivoted to face Professor Grimwinkle, the man’s lips pressed so tightly they looked like two thin earthworms. Blast. Of all the times for the department head to show up. “Barker here was merely testing for soil composition.”
“With his foot?” Grimwinkle tucked his orange-herringbone scarf tighter at his neck. What was he doing here? Clearly he hadn’t dressed for a dig site in those ridiculous clogs of his.
“That’s right, sir.” Barker pushed up to his feet, though leaned most of his weight on only one boot. “However, I have since learned from Professors Webb and Pendleton that I shouldn’t have gone about it in such a way.”
Bram glanced at the students. “Put away the tools, lads, then take an early lunch break while Professor Pendleton and I meet with Professor Grimwinkle.” He swept his hand toward the work tent. “Shall we?”
His uncle fell into step on the other side of Grimwinkle. “What brings you all this way, Professor?”
Bram cast the man a sideways glance. Hopefully he was here about Eva’s relics.
“A few reasons.” Grimwinkle lifted his trouser hems to step over a ridge of dirt. “First and foremost, I came to check on the welfare of the students. I wouldn’t wish any mishaps to harm them.”
Bram clenched his jaw. No doubt he and his uncle would be written up for endangering the life of Jonathan Barker or some other such nonsense.
Uncle Pendleton let out a merry laugh. “As you saw, they are a hardy set of lads having the time of their lives.”
“Mmm.” Grimwinkle grumbled ominously. “I wonder if Mr. Barker will say the same when he wakes with a bruised ankle tomorrow morning. You’re going to have to shore up that area of soil before any further exploration. I will not have Trinity students at risk of harm.”
Bram turned away his face lest Grimwinkle witness the roll of his eyes. Did the man truly think Bram would endanger one of the young men on purpose? “I will personally see to it, Professor Grimwinkle.” He opened the flap to the tent and dusted off the nearest folding chair. “Have a seat, Professor.”
“No, I prefer to see what you are working on.” He strode straight to the relic table and gave it a cursory glance before turning to Uncle Pendleton. “No grail?”
Uncle lifted his chin. “Not yet.”
“Nor any proof of your Caelum Academia?”
So that’s what the man was truly here for, making sure his plan was on track to oust Uncle Pendleton at the upcoming board meeting. Bram cracked his knuckles. They had to find some proof—and soon—not only to persuade Grimwinkle they had found Caelum Academia but to sway the board as well. “We have not uncovered anything conclusive, but as you can see, we are making fine progress.”
Grimwinkle squinted at the bone needles. “For a regular dig, I suppose I could grant you as much, but this is no ordinary dig, which brings me to my other reason for coming here today.” He turned his back to the antiquities, facing Bram and his uncle with a dip to his manicured eyebrows. “The review board will meet on December thirteenth at ten in the morning. However, I shall expect you to have the students returned by the twelfth so they may get their affairs in order before leaving on holiday break. Until then, try to keep the students in one piece. Good day.”
He stalked toward the door flap, leaving Bram and his uncle to gape at each other. They’d both known the time was drawing near, but this just seemed so final.
Bram dashed after the man. “Professor Grimwinkle, one more thing if you don’t mind.”
He glanced over his shoulder, not loosening his grip on the saddle. “Yes?”
“About Miss Inman’s antiquities. Have you met with the budget committee to set a purchase price for the items?”
“I have.”
“And?”
Grimwinkle launched up to seat himself, his horse bobbing its head at the sudden movement. With a great sniff, the professor looked down his nose at Bram. “We are in negotiations. I suspect you’ll have an answer when you return to Cambridge. Good day, Professor.”
Grimwinkle wheeled the horse in a tight circle.
Bram’s gut turned as well. Eva couldn’t wait that long for tax money. Either he must bring up the prospect of taking another load to Cambridge—and this time bringing it to the Fitzwilliam Museum—or he had to figure out another way for her to pay her debt.
He watched Grimwinkle ride off, a scowl tightening his brow. For good or for ill, December thirteenth would be a providential day indeed.
21
So many things could go wrong. An ill musician. Cold food. A quarrel between Mrs. Grample and Mrs. Lingerton that would leave a bad taste in everyone’s mouth. Eva inhaled deeply of the cool night air as she, Bram, and Penny entered the Rosewood Assembly Hall, trying desperately to ball up her fears about tonight’s gala and shove them into a dark corner of her mind.
They paused in the foyer, where a coat-check girl collected their coats.
