“It seems as if you speak as much to yourself as you do to me.”
“I do.” Lips pressed tightly together, she glanced away. “My ... em, my father recently died, you see.”
“Oh!” Eva’s hand flew to her chest, her own heart squeezing for the woman’s loss. “I am so sorry. I had no idea.”
“No wonder on that account. I wore black for only a month. Dreadful colour. Made me even more gloomy.” She retrieved a fire poker, then set about jabbing at the hearth coals. “I miss him dearly, of course, but at least he died doing what he loved. Edmund and I were on a dig with him in Egypt. My father had been struggling with sore joints for some time yet assured me he was getting better. He was not, and he hid how his afflictionaffected his mobility—or tried to. He fell from a ladder and hit his head, hence our return to London.”
She jammed the poker back into the stand, then sat once again, her cheeks rosy from being so near the heat, or perhaps from emotion. “I haven’t the heart right now to pursue another expedition, so speaking of God’s timing, you happen to find me with nothing to do. Caring for the children you’ve brought me will be a welcome diversion.”
Despite the sorrow lingering on the edge of the woman’s voice, a glimmer of hope stirred in Eva’s heart. Ami’s resilience was a good reminder that even in the midst of hardship, there was always the possibility of finding solace and purpose in unexpected places, and most importantly, that God did not abandon one even in difficult times. “With all that you have been through, it is more than kind of you to take them in for now.”
“Think nothing of it. I feel certain you would have done the same had Edmund and I shown up on your doorstep with a gaggle of young ones.” She flounced back against the cushion, a sudden impish tilt to her head. “Now, on to happier topics. Tell me about you and Bram.”
Eva shrugged. “We are old friends. I have known him since childhood.”
“Come now, there is more to it than that. His gaze follows you around like a lost puppy. There is no mistaking he is a man in love, and you cannot deny you return that affection or your cheeks would not be blazing like those coals I just stirred.”
Eva’s palms flew to her face. Sure enough, her skin was hot to the touch. Her gaze met Ami’s, and quite out of the blue, they both broke into laughter.
Eva sank against the back of her seat, completely relaxed in this sweet woman’s presence. “Is it so very obvious?”
“To everyone but Bram, I suspect. I hope he comes to his senses quickly, though, for you are a gem he ought not let slipthrough his fingers. Men can be dolts when it comes to acting on their feelings, but if he doesn’t, do not be afraid to act upon yours.” Ami shoved a loosened lock of hair from her brow, her gaze burning into Eva’s. “Love ought not languish for want of acknowledgment, for life is too short.”
30
“BewareofBlackwoodsssss...hissss.”
Her father’s last words had woken Eva up in the middle of the night, sat next to her on the coach ride back to Royston all the next day, and now—standing next to Bram and Penny outside the vicarage on a cold December evening—those same words spread over her skin like a stinging rash. How wrong she had been! All this time she’d been wary of Mr. Blackwood when her father had been trying to warn her of his sister ... but how had he known?
Penny tugged on her coat sleeve, pulling her from the unanswered question. “They’ve been in there for quite some time now. How long do you think it will take?”
Eva stared at the front door of the small cottage from where she stood on the driveway with Bram and several other Royston citizens. She’d had no idea when they returned Ginny, Lucy, and Andy that their families would follow along to the police station and then to the vicarage. It made perfect sense, though. Why wouldn’t they wish to see justice played out as much as she did?
She squeezed Penny’s shoulder. “Shouldn’t be much longernow. The constables ought to be bringing out Mrs. Mortimer very soon.”
“I hope so. I cannot wait to tell that woman what I think and—”
“You shall do no such thing.” Her words puffed out on a cloud of steam. “You will remain silent, or I shall have the professor take you back to the coach. Is that understood?”
A magnificent scowl carved into her sister’s brow.
Bram leaned aside, his breath warm against Eva’s ear. “I could say the same to you, you know. The constables warned us all to keep our distance. They will not abide a mob.”
Eva glanced at the other families gathered near the police wagon, anger and resentment present in the folded arms, the wide stances, the grim jawlines. Her own fingers curled beneath her gloves. “I think it safe to say we all just wish to see justice carried out.”
“And so it begins.” He gestured toward the house, where Mrs. Mortimer strode between two constables, Mr. Blackwood at the rear.
“There she is. Vile woman!” one lady called.
“A jail cell’s too good for the likes o’ her. She ought to be made to work in a sweatshop like my little Ginny,” another harsh voice cried out.
“She should be strung up, that’s what,” someone else called out.
“Back off, all of you,” the lead constable growled as he swung the wagon’s rear door open.
Reverend Blackwood frowned at the gathering. “Come, now. Let us behave in a godly fashion while this matter is sorted out.”
“Tell that to yer sister.” One of the men shook his fist in the air. “She’s the one what sold our little ones!”
