“I realize that, but as I said, I shall have all my wages sent here, and the shortfall will be eliminated in no time.” She reached for the pen on his desk. “Shall I sign that card now?”
“That’s just it, Miss Inman. Your time has run out.” He snatched the pen from her fingers. “I shall have a possession order drawn up and served on Monday, which will state your eviction date. As it is closing in on the end of the year, I would expect that to be very soon. Property auctions of homes acquired this quarter are to happen in the new year when transfer of ownership will be complete. All that to say, will your wages cover the thirty pounds within the next fortnight?”
Eva gripped her empty reticule so tightly, her fingers ached. She had no idea what Mrs. Pempernill would pay her nor when she’d be paid.
“I-I do not know.”
“Then I suggest you remove whatever personal belongingsyou have as soon as possible, for whatever remains will be sold with the home. Good day, Miss Inman.”
“But...”
Deep furrows dug into his broad brow. “Was I not clear in my explanation?”
“No, it is not ... I mean...” She sighed. “You were very thorough, Mr. Buckle. Good day.”
She tramped outside to a day devoid of any sort of cheer, the bitter sting of failure prickling down her back, dragging her shoulders to the ground. She’d failed her father in the worst possible way, losing the house, losing her sister. Losing the small remnants of whatever self-respect she owned.
Indeed.
What a horrid day.
26
It was quiet—tooquiet. To be expected for a Saturday morning on campus, though, especially since it was the first day of Michaelmas recess. Students always bolted at the end of a semester. Bram had done so himself as a younger fellow. But now? Normally, he’d embrace such peace with no one to barge into his office or interrupt his study, but not today. He longed for noise. Laughter. Shouting. The thunderous roar of running feet that ought not be tearing about in these hallowed halls. Anything to drown out the hollow sound of packing the last of his belongings into the wooden box on his desk.
Reverently, he laid his worn copy ofTheTwelve Caesarson top of the pile. The text had been invaluable when teaching Roman history. He ran his finger over the cracked leather, a sudden wave of loss breaking so strongly over his head that he sank onto the chair he’d warmed these past six years. Everything he’d worked for, everything he’d gained—rapport with the students, an award-winning archery club, a salary on the rise—Grimwinkle had yanked from his hands, leaving him with nothing. Nothing! And now what? With a scarred record, noother institution would hire him. Extensive knowledge of the Roman Empire wasn’t exactly a marketable skill.
He folded over, forearms on his thighs, a curtain of unkempt hair falling over his eyes. There was no way out of this mess. Grimwinkle had spoken, and that was the end of it.
“Oh, God.” A moan more than a prayer. “I cannot fix this. I cannot even pretend to. All my life I have kept one step ahead of trouble, but this time...” Bitter laughter gurgled in his throat. “This time, Lord, it has caught up. You must make a way for me and my uncle, for I cannot, nor can he. We are in Your hands, as is Eva. Grant us all mercy.”
He exhaled long and low, heart heavy at the thought of Eva. Leaving her had been hard. Leaving her to deal with a financial crisis had been reprehensible. Yet what choice did he have? It wasn’t as if his bank account could solve her money problems.
Feeling a million years old, he slowly straightened. He ought to have sent her a telegram yesterday, explained that he’d withdrawn her relics from the college and delivered them along with the second load to the Fitzwilliam Museum—where he should have brought them in the first place. But by the time he’d finished the task, the telegraph office had been closed, and it’d not been open when he’d stopped by there on his way to Trinity this morn. Perhaps now would be a more suitable time.
He pulled out his trusty pocket watch. Half past nine. Funny how loading up years of his life had taken only the better part of an hour. Flipping the lid shut, he ran his finger over the embellishments, a new idea slowly taking root. He’d not been able to get Eva the money to fix up Inman Manor, but he could still provide her with something for her taxes. Hopefully it wasn’t too late. The revenue man couldn’t have processed the foreclosure paperwork yet, could he?
Bram shoved the watch into his pocket, then reached for his crate. Moments before his arms wrapped around the wood, he thought better of it and instead retrievedThe TwelveCaesars.He set the beloved book on the shelf behind the desk as a makeshift blessing. Perhaps the next professor would take as much joy from it as he had.
Then he grabbed his box and, without a backward glance, strode from the room.
Uncle Pendleton’s office was farther down the corridor, where windows banked the entire south side. His door stood open, and Bram paused on the threshold. His uncle’s workspace spanned twice the size of his, with great oak bookcases flanking one wall and a cheery hearth on the other, leather chairs sitting cozily in front of it. Uncle Pendleton stood at his desk, his back to the door, shoulders stooped over a box.
Bram’s heart squeezed at how frail the old man looked. Uncle had been in surprisingly good spirits about the whole affair yesterday, but now the sledgehammer had clearly landed square on his head. And Bram could hardly blame his uncle for lacking the gumption to store away pieces of his life like some sort of squirrel burying nuts.
“Uncle?” Bram set down his box just inside the door. “Can I help you?”
“Hmm?” Uncle Pendleton faced him. “Oh, it’s you. No, no. I, em, I should like to do this by myself, if you don’t mind.”
“I understand.”
His uncle held up a dip-and-scratch ink pen, the ornate metal nib between his fingers. “Remember this?”
Bram smiled. “From Vindolanda.”
“That was a proper dig, was it not?”
“Indeed.” He took the pen from his uncle’s hand, admiring the craftsmanship himself before setting the relic back on the stand ... and that’s when he noticed that hardly a thing had been packed up. A mere few items sat inside the box.
