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Six months later, Eva beamed wider than ever as she stood before the new museum alongside her husband, his uncle—who was now hers too—and the members of the historical society. Ahead, a vibrant red ribbon stretched across the entrance, drawing the gazes of eager onlookers. Though Mr. Toffit delivered a meticulously prepared speech, capturing the crowd’s attention, Eva’s thoughts were consumed by the handsome man beside her and his selfless dedication to his role as curator. Silently, she prayed for God to richly bless her husband.

For He had surely blessed her. Life with a man she loved. All her valuables redeemed from the pawn shop. Penny thriving in a respected school. How could life get any better?

“And so it is my great pleasure—”Mr. Toffit stretched to his full height, his tall hat compensating for what he lacked—“to declare the Royston Historical Museum is now officially open to the public, with many exhibits and more to come—featuring none other than some local finds from Inman Manor. Now then, Mr. Webb, if you please.” With a flourish, he handed Bram a pair of large shears, their silver blades gleaming in the June sunshine.

“Thank you, Mr. Toffit, but I should like to defer the honour to Professor Emeritus Sebastian Pendleton.” Bram pressed the scissors into his uncle’s grip with a wink and a smile.

As Uncle Pendleton approached the ribbon, Eva whispered in her husband’s ear. “I can still hardly believe Sir George granted your uncle not only his pension but a new title as well.”

“I yet smile when I think of it,” Bram whispered back. “Though I doubt if Grimwinkle does.”

“He deserved to be dismissed! His thievery of your uncle’s notes should have been brought to light decades before this, not to mention his paying off Mr. Trestwell to hinder your dig.”

A sly grin spread on her husband’s lips. “Have you not yet learned, wife, that all transpires in God’s timing, not yours?”

Apparently not, though she was loath to admit it aloud.

The ribbon fell. Applause thundered. Mr. Toffit opened the door wide and stationed himself at the head of the receiving line.

Bram pulled out his silver pocket watch, and after a glance at the glass face, tucked it away. “Right on time, though I should have expected nothing less. Are you ready to receive our first patrons?”

“I am.” She smiled as Bram guided her to their designated spot near the open door. Guests ascended the stairs, excited chatter filling the air. Truly, it was a lovely day in all respects—save one.

She glanced up at Bram. “How I wish Penny were here. She would have loved such excitement.”

Bram reached for her hand, giving her fingers a reassuring squeeze. “Your sister is devoted to her studies.”

True enough. Though a bit hesitant to enroll at first, after encouragement from Bram and her, Penny had found pure contentment at the Royal Normal College and Academy of Music for the Blind, for she’d said as much in her most recent correspondence. She’d joined the choir, excelled in mastering Braille, and had even discovered a knack for piano. Gratitude swelled in Eva’s chest. The windfall from the antiquities of the cursed acres had been a godsend, affording her sister the opportunity to thrive in the finest institution England had to offer—something Eva had never dreamed could happen.

“Eva!” Lottie squealed.

She barely opened her arms before her friend swooped in for an embrace. “Congratulations! This is quite an event for Royston.” She kissed each of Eva’s cheeks.

“Thank you.” She grinned as she looked past Lottie, one brow arching. “But where is your mother? She adores gatherings such as this.”

“She has taken to her bed again. A summer cold, of all things.” Lottie rolled her eyes. “You’d think the woman suffered the plague, with all her moaning and groaning.”

“At least she has not got you tied up watching the younger ones.”

“She does, actually, but I bribed Freddie to keep them busy for a while. I couldn’t miss this event.” Lottie sidestepped to Bram. “If you see any available gents, I wouldn’t mind an introduction.”

“I shall keep an eye open.” He laughed.

“Ho ho!” Mr. Finebridge approached as Lottie moved on to greet Mr. Toffit. “A lovely morning and a fine ceremony. I heard there were to be refreshments, and I can only hope they are of the spirited kind.” He waggled his thick eyebrows, the odour of rum wafting about him.

Eva tried hard not to wrinkle her nose. “There is tea, Mr. Finebridge, as is proper for so early in the day.”

“It’s never too early for a merry spirit, my dear.” He flapped his elbows, then sidled over to Bram. “Say, Webb, did you hear about your old friend Trestwell?”

Eva stiffened.

Bram scowled. “He is no friend of mine, Mr. Finebridge.”

“Exactly as I thought, which should please you to know the fellow is currently laid up in the county jail for disturbing the peace.”

Eva gasped, though truly she ought not be surprised. Richard Trestwell’s brutish ways were destined to catch up with him sometime. “What has he done this time?”

“The usual, scrapped a fight with the wrong man down at the Old Bull.” Mr. Finebridge scratched his side whiskers, a sardonic twist to his lips. “I daresay he’ll be eating mashed potatoes for quite some time. That jaw of his is pretty busted up.”

Bram humphed. “What happened to the other man?”

“That’s the best part. Seems the barkeep had a sudden lapse of memory when it came to identifying the other party. Ol’ Trestwell will bear the brunt of the blame for the broken tables and chairs. Ho ho!” He cuffed Bram on the arm good-naturedly. “Best of luck on your museum and all. Being there’s no refreshments of my sort, I suppose I shall find other enterprises for the morning. Good day to you both.”

Eva dipped her head. “Good day, Mr. Finebridge.”

The moment he was out of hearing, Bram murmured, “That man’s liver is going to swim away before he realizes it is gone.”

“You, sir, are a scoundrel.” Eva batted his sleeve, laughing. “But likely very correct. The man is—”

Bram’s gaze drifted past her, a subtle shake of his head accompanying his silent observation.

She turned to face the Reverend Mr. Blackwood, dressed from head to toe in his usual grey, though since becoming headmaster at the newly founded Haven Academy, he’d added a sprig of colour to his monotone garments: a badge of red with the school’s insignia on his lapel.

“Mr. and Mrs. Webb.” He tipped his hat.

“Mr. Blackwood. Thank you for coming.” Eva folded her hands, posture at once straightening. Though the man had admittedly softened these past months, her old habit was hard to break. “I am surprised you took time away from your students this morning.”

“Classes are cancelled due to personal business. It is my monthly prison visit to see my sister, but I thought to first stop by here and offer my congratulations.”

“Very thoughtful of you.” Eva’s brows gathered. “How is Mrs. Mortimer holding up?”

“As profitably as she can possibly make of her situation. She sells contraband to the other inmates, and though I’ve informed the staff, they have yet to catch her in the act. Needless to say, I pray daily for her soul.”

“I shall join you in that prayer, Mr. Blackwood.”

“Thank you.” He moved on to Bram. “When you have a moment, Mr. Webb, I should like to speak with you in reference to a workshop or two for my students.”

“I will meet you inside shortly.”

“Very good.”

Mr. Blackwood moved on, Eva’s gaze following him. Other than the splash of red on his frock coat, he didn’t look any differently on the outside, but inwardly he’d been transformed. “His sister’s conviction surely did alter that man,” she murmured.

“Bearing the weight of tragedy can reshape a person’s perspective on what truly matters.” Bram glanced down at her, empathy shining in his eyes. “Adversity has a way of reshuffling one’s priorities in life.”

“Yes, but to open a school for vulnerable children? I would say that is quite a miracle.”

“Turns out a heart does beat beneath that grey coat of his after all, eh?”

“Mrs. Webb.” Mrs. Muggins stepped up to her next, offering neither a hand of greeting nor a smile.

“Mrs. Muggins.” Eva dipped a small curtsey, for though the woman refused to play by her own rules, the old widow still held others to more formal acknowledgments. “Thank you for visiting the museum on opening day.”

“It is my civic duty, though it remains to be seen if it is a waste of my time.” She passed by Bram without a word.

Bram leaned aside. “If there were a profession for skeptics, that woman would win the highest acclaim.”

And so went the next half hour, until finally the last patron paused in front of Eva and Bram, the woman’s greeting as trilling as a nearby skylark singing in a tree. “Congratulations, Mr. and Mrs. Webb. This museum is a fine addition to Royston. Just what we needed!”

“Mrs. Quibble, how lovely to see you.” Eva lightly squeezed the woman’s arm.

“I knew it would be a grand event with you at the helm.” Her gaze shot to Bram. “No offense, Mr. Webb.”

“None taken, Mrs. Quibble.”

Eva gestured toward the door, where merry conversation drifted out. “There are refreshments inside. I think you will especially find the lemon fingers to your liking.”

“No doubt I shall.” She patted her gloved hand against her stomach, then stepped closer. “However, I purposely held back to have a private word with you, Eva. I’ve put off asking you to return full time to the relief society being you’re newly married and all, but it’s been nearly half a year since your wedding, and I feel confident you are settled in your matrimonial role. In light of such, when can I expect your service to resume? It is never too early for you to start planning the next fundraising gala, you know.”

“That is very true, Mrs. Quibble, and I am happy to help with preliminary arrangements, but I am afraid I will not be able to attend the December event.”

“I ... I don’t understand.” Mrs. Quibble faltered, her voice losing its chirpy quality as she blinked. “You have already filled in your diary six months out?”

“I have indeed.” She beamed. The woman—and Bram—could have no idea just how busy her schedule would be. “However, you can put me down for the following year.”

“I am at sixes and sevens to hear such dire tidings.” Mrs. Quibble fanned herself with a lace handkerchief, looking for all the world as if she’d just heard the Queen herself had perished. “I suppose there is nothing for me to do but hold you to your promise, unless...” Her tiny black eyes darted about Eva’s face as if looking for a place to perch. “Is there anything I can say to persuade you otherwise?”

“I am sorry, Mrs. Quibble, but no. There is nothing under the sun that could induce me to change my mind.”

“Well then.” A huge sigh deflated the woman as she tucked away her handkerchief. “I suppose I shall have to inquire with Miss Barker.”

“You will find her inside. Please enjoy the spread of pastries and selections of tea.”

Mrs. Quibble stepped past them to Mr. Toffit. “Would you mind escorting me inside, sir? I’m feeling a bit faint.”

“Oh dear. We cannot have that.” At once, he shored the lady up with a strong arm and guided her inside the new museum.

The moment they disappeared, Bram turned to her with a look that never failed to flutter her heart. “I was not aware of any engagements on our December calendar.”

She straightened his collar, savoring the final moments of her precious secret. “That is because I have not told you yet.”

He pulled her close, a shrewd gleam in his eyes. “Told me what exactly?”

“I think you already know, sir.” She grinned.

“Are you...?” His hand slid to her belly, his touch sending shivers down her spine. Wonder sparked in his eyes. “You are! I am right, am I not?” Excitement rumbled in his tone.

Her grin grew. “You are.”

Tossing back his head, he laughed—and she couldn’t help but join in. Ah, how wonderful it was to share such joy, such life, such unbridled oneness.

He ran his fingers along her arms, love radiating off him. “Remember that day you agreed to be my wife?”

“I shall never forget it.”

“I did not think life could get any better than that,” he mused. “Turns out I was very wrong. Every day with you is a gift.”

Indeed.

Every day was a gift.

“You know, husband, I used to wonder when God would smile on me.” She captured his face in her hands, heart so full she could hardly stand it. “And it turns out He has been all along.”