Bram chugged the drink, hoping the refreshment would somehow make words flow. There was so much to explain. “Remember that favor you said you owed me?”
“I do.”
“I am calling it in, old friend.”
“Are you?” Edmund sank into an overstuffed chair and stretched out his legs. “Perhaps you had better enlighten me, then, on exactly what terms I consented to without knowing the finer points of our agreement.”
Bram paced a moment, rubbing furiously at the back of his neck. Where to begin? “It is a long story, but the shortened version is I accompanied Miss Inman to London to visit her sister at a school for the blind in which the girl had recently been enrolled. Turns out it was a sweatshop she had been sold to under false pretense—as were several other of the children. Deplorable conditions.” Even now his hands curled into fists. “Of the ten children I rescued, four reside in Royston, and I will see them returned to their families.” He stopped in front of Edmund. “As long as you can part with a carriage, that is.”
“That is all? I am to get off with the simple lending of a coach?” His eyes narrowed. “What of the other six children?”
“Yes, well ... that is where the actual favor comes in. Four of them are orphans, and the other two were sold by their families, so I do not think they will be a welcome sight should they be returned to their front stoop.”
“And you expect me to do what with them?”
He shrugged. “You and that wife of yours are a resourceful team. I am sure you will think of something.”
A great laugh pealed out of his friend. “Ami was just lamenting the other day how she longed for the pitter-patter of little feet; however, I do not think this was what she had in mind.”
“So...” Bram lowered to an adjacent chair, setting his empty glass on a side table. “You will help me?”
“No.” He stabbed his finger through the air. “You steal my cigars.”
Bram shot up his hands “Frisk me if you like. You will not find a one in my pockets.”
“The day is not over.” Rising, Edmund collected both glasses and returned them to the cart, one of his brows lifting. “But I will help that lovely lady of yours. I am sure it has been trying enough for her to put up with you.”
Bram sank against the cushion, blessed relief making breathing much easier. He hadn’t realized just how uptight he’d been until now. “Thank you, Price. You always were a good sport.”
“Amongst other things, you mean. Now then.” All humor fled from his friend’s face as Edmund leaned forward on his chair. “Though I never made it into Parliament, I have the ear of a good many politicians. There are rumblings of a new Factory and Workshop Act in the making, so tell me all about this sweatshop. I shall see what I can do about shutting it down.”
Inman Manor was a respectable home—or at least it had been—but even in its glory days, the place was a scrap heap compared to this fine town house. The flickering glow of the hearth fire and overhead chandeliers cast a golden hue across the elegantly appointed drawing room. Velvet draperies and plush settees lined the walls, every table surface, baseboard, and mantel gleaming to polished perfection. Eva nibbled on her fingernail, marveling at the opulence and the kindness of the Prices for taking in such a menagerie she and Bram had brought to their door ... which was a crisis of her own making. She never should have sent Penny away with that grasping, conniving Mrs. Mortimer! What a fool she’d been.
“... you think, Eva?”
Ami’s playful voice pulled her from her musings, and she shifted on the cushion to face the woman. “Forgive me.” Eva smiled. “What did you say?”
“Oh, nothing of consequence, really. I merely commented on how delicious dinner was. I still can hardly believe I live in a home with a French chef. Good thing we have one, though. All I can cook is burned water.” Ami picked up a rose-sprigged teapot and began pouring, one brow arched at Eva. “But something troubles you. I hope you are not worrying about the children. I daresay they shall all sleep like babes tonight.”
“No doubt. I am grateful for the generosity of you and your husband. Truly. I do not deserve such a kindness. This whole thing could have been avoided had I not run ahead of God’s timing.”
Laughter bubbled out of the slight woman as she handed over a steaming cup of Earl Grey. “Then we are kindred spirits, my friend. If I had but a penny for every time I galloped off on my own, I daresay I would be wealthier than my husband.” She resumed her seat with her own cup and saucer. “But tell me why you think such a thing, for sometimes we are harder on ourselves than need be—a truth I have fought like a wet cat this past year.”
“I do not wish to burden you. I have already imposed on you enough as is.”
“Bosh! It is the sharing of burdens that makes them lighter.” She set the cup aside and leaned forward on her chair, sincerity gleaming in her eyes. “Please, if nothing else, I will know how to pray for you.”
A smile twitched Eva’s lip. This woman could tame a wild horse by sheer will alone. “All right.” She fiddled with the handle of her teacup, taking care not to spill the hot liquid but grateful all the same to give her hands something to do. “The thing is, I never should have sent Penny away from home, for it was only two days later when Mr. Webb arrived with the tax moneyI needed. I realize that does not make a lot of sense to you, not knowing my history and all, but suffice it to say I should have trusted God to provide instead of making things happen on my own.”
“Then we are more than kindred spirits. We are twins separated at birth.” A smirk twisted the lady’s mouth. “Allow me a different perspective, Eva. The way I see it, if you had not sent your sister to that awful sweatshop, then you never would have discovered the other children, and they would not have been rescued. So do not assume it was not God’s plan all along.”
“ButIam responsible for Penny, and she suffered because of me.”
Ami wagged her finger. “You are not God. You cannot protect her from suffering.”
She’d certainly heard that one before. “You sound like Mr. Webb.”
“I shall take that as a compliment, for he is a good man.” She reclaimed her teacup and took a few sips before murmuring so low, Eva had to strain to catch all her words. “Pain is a part of life on this earth, yet through it all, God is sovereign.” Tears glistened in her eyes as she once again set the half-empty cup aside, this time apparently for good as she shoved it a distance away.
