“I love you too, sister! And I shall miss you very much.”
“Let us save such talk for tomorrow when I bring you to Mrs. Mortimer’s. I have had enough good-byes for one day.” She straightened her sister’s collar, all askew from such exuberance. “How about you enlist Dixon or Mary to haul down a trunk for you? I will be up shortly to help pack your belongings, after I have had a word with Sinclair.”
“You are the best sister ever!” Penny raced from the room, a rousing rendition of “Rule, Britannia!” on her lips.
Eva nibbled on her nail. She’d still rather hold off on sending Penny to school, but she was out of options. Unless Bram’s money came through, the estate would be gone. So would she—to Tuscany with Mrs. Pempernill if the woman took her on as Mrs. Mortimer had suggested she might.
She strolled from the sitting room, intent on finding Sinclair, when a knock rapped at the front door. Eva opened it to a lad wearing a brilliant scarlet cap, his nose just as red and no wonder. A December wind barged in uninvited, nipping Eva’s cheeks.
“May I help you, young man?”
“Aye, miss. I were to deliver this letter to Inman Manor.” He held out a creamy white envelope.
Her heart raced as she retrieved it. She wouldn’t be surprised at all if it was yet another revenue addendum adding on even more to the property taxes. Yet this paper was far too fine, and with a bloodred wax seal securing the back of it, it was clearly a missive from someone of stature.
She glanced past the young man. No pony cart. No horse. Odd, that. Her gaze drifted back to the young fellow. “Did you walk all the way from town?”
“I did, miss.” He tipped his hat.
“Well then, I should think you will need a cup of warmed milk before braving a return journey. Go to the kitchen entrance and tell the cook that Miss Inman sent you.”
“Caw! Thanks, miss.” He tore around the corner of the house before she could even saygood day.
Eva pushed the door shut against the cold air, then set off down the corridor, still intent on her mission to find Sinclair. As she walked, she ran her nail beneath the seal, then immediately popped her finger into her mouth, the sting of a paper cut sharp on the skin ... which probably wouldn’t have happened if she’d had an actual nail to slit the thing in the first place.
Or a letter opener.
Sighing, she unfolded the letter.
Dear Miss Inman,
Your inquiry into the position of lady’s companion at Pempernill Hall has been accepted. Your qualifications and references meet the criteria, and we are delighted to inform you that your duties of lady’s companion to Mrs. Eleanor Pempernill may begin at once. Please send your acceptance correspondence as soon as possible, and we will work out the details of your compensation.
Sincerely,
Miss Fanny Goshorn
Assistant to Mrs.Pempernill
Eva stopped right there in the corridor, shock a cold shower tingling over her body. While it was good to know she had some employment lined up, she didn’t really want to be a lady’s companion. Always at the beck and call of a demanding older woman. Making travel arrangements to places she’d never been. Worst of all, she’d miss her home. Inman Manor was all she’d ever known. And yet, still shy of the full tax amount, she’d miss her home anyway—for tomorrow she would lose it unless Bram came through with the relic money.
She stuffed the note back into the envelope, chafing at theunfairness of it all, for her, for Penny. And then there was Bram. He’d worked so hard on the dig. If that curmudgeon Mr. Grimwinkle let him and his uncle go at the end of the year, what would they do?
The more she thought on it, though, the more a beautiful thought took root. Growing deeper. Practically bursting out of the soil in her heart. She might lose her house, but that didn’t mean Bram and his dear uncle had to lose everything as well. As soon as she dropped Penny off at Mrs. Mortimer’s tomorrow morning, she would pay Mr. Toffit a visit and persuade the man to keep that curator position open until the end of the school year. After all, the society didn’t even have the building ready for a museum yet, so it shouldn’t be a problem.
Hopefully, at least.
25
Bram tagged his uncle’s heels as he strode the long college corridor toward the board room, his irritation palpable. Grimwinkle’s refusal to see him yesterday had left him seething, his frustration compounded at the lack of information regarding the sale of Eva’s relics. Nor could he shake the annoyance over the fact he and Uncle Pendleton had not found definitive proof of Caelum Academia—though they had more than enough evidence of a second-century Roman settlement. And to top it all off, an unwelcome eight-legged visitor had taken up residence in his quarters during his absence. The sight of the hairy intruder scurrying across his desk upon his return had nearly sent him into a fit of arachnophobic rage as he’d hunted the thing with his shoe all night. But to no avail. He had yet to slay that monster.
“Step lively, nephew.” His uncle beckoned him with a swing of his arm. “We don’t want to be late.”
“Why not?” He smirked. “I guarantee Grimwinkle will not be on time.”
“That doesn’t mean we ought not be.”
Begrudgingly, he upped his pace, and they entered the board room. The first thing that caught him off guard was the twopiles of muscle stationed at each side of the door, as if he and his uncle were on the dock for murder at a Bow Street court. The second—and at this he blinked in surprise—was that not only were the six committee members already spaced out along the extended table, but Grimwinkle sat at the center, wearing a herringbone suit, a tobacco-brown bow tie, and a curl to his lip that could stop a cohort of Roman soldiers.
