Page 8

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Eva could hardly blame Penny for missing out on tea with the reverend and his sister. Had she an excuse, she would have skipped out on it as well. But then Penny hadn’t appeared for reading hour, which was alarming. Though to be fair, the girl might’ve gotten preoccupied with the new litter of kittens in the barn. Yet now, seated across from Penny’s empty chair for lunch, worry crept in to nettle the corners of Eva’s mind. Monday was potato soup day. Penny’s favorite. Surely she’d arrive winded and rosy cheeked from some grand adventure any minute.

Holding to that hope, Eva dawdled with slow bites, listening hard for the trill of a song to come waltzing through the door. Perhaps her sister was simply running late for some obscure girlish reason ... and yet by the time her spoon scraped the bottom of the bowl, there was still no sign of Penny.

Odd, that.

She nibbled the nail of her index finger. It was an inescapable fact that girls would be girls. She herself had missed a meal or two in her day, running off with Lottie or chasing after Bram, for yes, though she hated to confess such an inappropriate action, the truth was that she had.

But this was different. Though admittedly she felt a bit abandoned by her sister, she couldn’t help but worry about Penny’s absence. What if she’d had an accident? Tripped over a rug and bumped her head? It was always hard not to jump to conclusions when it came to her sister, for she dearly wished to protect the girl from any sort of harm. Yet stifling Penny was just as hurtful.

Balling up her napkin, Eva wandered to the kitchen. Mrs. Pottinger was always grateful for help with kneading, especially since she’d taken on the feeding of five strapping men. After Eva had worked out her frustrations on several mountains of dough, Penny still hadn’t turned up.

Was her little sister merely coddling a sulky mood? She was getting to that age where such dispositions became more frequent. Eva headed up to Penny’s room, trying to recall if she’d said anything that might’ve set her sister off.

“Penny?” She rapped on the door, and when no answer came, she tried the knob. Inside, the rosebud-sprigged counterpane lay serene and smooth with no sign of a pouting girl curled beneath. The window seat—a favorite perch—was empty as well. Nothing seemed out of place, save for the open wardrobe. Eva advanced, glancing inside the hulking piece of furniture, and then her heart really did stutter.

Penny’s coat and bonnet were gone.

All the worry she’d been stiff-arming since Mrs. Mortimer had first questioned Penny’s whereabouts rushed in like a mongrel horde. She pressed a fist to her belly, sick with concern. Had she said anything to Penny that might’ve caused her to run off?

Oh , poppet! Where are you?

Eva sped to her own bedroom, vainly trying to outpace the horrid memory of another such instance a year ago when she’d quarreled with Papa, and he’d stormed off....

It had been strange seeing her father laid out on the kitchen table like that, his forehead gashed, blood flowing. But that wasn’t the worst of it. The right side of his chest sank unnaturally where the horse’s hooves had caught him, making every breath a wheeze—when he could catch one. Mostly he struggled for air. Eva had held his hand in a tight grip, heart breaking with a loss she wasn’t ready to own.

Yet the strangest thing of all had been when he rallied, ordering everyone except her from the room. His pale blue eyes burned with an eerie intensity as she leaned over him, and she knew it was now or never to reveal her secret.

“Papa, I must tell you—”

“No. No time.” He struggled to suck in air. “I’m sorry, Eva. So sorry. I never should have—” He grimaced, the muscles on his neck standing out like cords.

“Papa, don’t talk. Just listen. I—”

He grabbed her hand. “Take care of your sister. Always. And the house, don’t—” He convulsed with a gasp. “Don’t lose it.”

She kissed his knuckles, her tears falling freely. “Yes, Papa.”

“Promise!” he rasped.

“I vow it. I will not fail you. Not again. I love you.” Her throat closed then. Tightly. Forbidding her own breaths to pass. He could have no idea how sorely she’d failed him in the past, which was a poison she’d swallowed for far too long. “Papa, please, before it is too late, I must ask your forgiveness because I was the one who—”

“Blackwood,” he hissed, his eyes bloodred. His lips grey-blue. “Beware of Blackwoodsssss ... hissss.”

His words degraded into a death rattle, a sound not meant for the ears of the living.

And then he was gone, the bulwark of her life, leaving her broken, scared, scarred. Abandoned. Just as her mother had done. And Eva had no one to blame but herself.

She shrugged her arms into her coat sleeves, shoving away the memory, then snatched her bonnet and dashed out the door. She was not going through that again. She would not lose Penny because of her failings too. God may see fit to send trials her way for her own wrongdoings, but Penny didn’t deserve to suffer. Fiddling with her hat ribbons, Eva called for Dixon while trotting down the stairs.

“Yes, miss?” The housekeeper sailed into the front hall just as Eva stepped foot on the landing. “Where are you off to in such a hurry?”

“To find my sister.” Eva pulled her gloves from her pocket. “Penny’s been absent all morning and half the afternoon. Would you please search the ground floor and have Mary do the same on the first? Tell her to also nip into the attic, though I don’t know why Penny would possibly go there. And let Mrs. Pottinger know to keep an eye out for her as well.”

“Absolutely.” Clenching her apron, Dixon took a step closer, worry pinching her face. “Though I do wonder, miss, if we ought to send for a constable? While the girl is given to ambling about the yard, it’s not like Miss Penny to be gone for so long.”

Eva tamped the fear that prompted her to agree. “Not yet. We ought to first conduct our own search. For all we know, she may have fallen asleep in the hayloft or climbed an orchard tree and can’t get down.” She shivered at the thought. Penny may be a fearless little imp, but, oh, how Eva hated heights. “And let’s not forget the new litter of kittens. I’ll alert Tom in the barn and get Sinclair to poke about the apple trees. After that, I’ll walk the road a bit, see if she may have gone for a stroll and met with some sort of mishap. I’m sure she’ll turn up.” She squeezed Dixon’s arm, as much to encourage the older woman as herself.

“Very good, miss. We shall hope for the best.”

Indeed, she would. To do otherwise would be her undoing. She’d promised Papa to care for the girl. She should have kept a better eye on her sister. If something happened to Penny, it would be her fault.

And she truly would be all alone.

Once outside, she tugged on her gloves while rounding the house to the backyard—just as a wagon lumbered to a halt. Professor Pendleton perched on the driver’s seat, setting the brake. If he’d been out and about, perhaps he’d seen Penny.

Please , God , let him say he’s seen her. Smile upon me just this once.

“Professor Pendleton,” she said as she approached. “I wonder if—”

“Ah, Miss Inman. Though my spectacles are in an atrocious state at the moment, you are just the person I was hoping to see.”

“I wish I could say the same. Oh my!” Her fingers flew to her mouth as her words hit her ears. How rude he must think her. “Please don’t take offense at my careless sentiment, sir. It is lovely to see you as well, but the truth is, I was hoping to spy my sister.”

“Yes! The young Miss Inman.” Yanking off his spectacles, he huffed on the glass, then buffed out a smear. “Delightful girl.”

“She is, and I’m wondering if you may have—”

He held up a finger. “Sorry to interrupt, my dear, but if I don’t say what I must now, there’s a good chance I might forget.” He collected a cloth-wrapped bundle and handed it down to her. “As you see, we are earning our keep already. Have a look.”

Hope blended with her worry as she unwrapped the fabric.

Then quickly faded.

The relic he’d seemed so proud to show her was nothing but a small, dirty pot of clay with a handle and spout. “It’s, em, well, it appears to be a lamp.”

“Brilliant!” Holding his spectacles to the sky, he examined the glass, then went back to buffing. “You are spot-on, Miss Inman.”

She rewrapped the tiny bundle, offering it back. “Is it valuable?”

He parked the spectacles on the bridge of his nose and collected the relic. “Indeed it is. Finding this little gem proves we are excavating in the right place.”

“I meant monetarily.”

“Hmm.” Setting the package on the seat, he climbed down, then reclaimed it. “I suppose a museum would purchase this piece of history, wouldn’t they? Though there is a hairline crack on the spout, and I’m not certain the finish will hold up to cleaning. Even so, I’d say perhaps it ought to fetch five pounds due to its age.” He cradled the lamp like a babe in arms. “Is there a museum in Royston? I hadn’t heard of one.”

“No, not yet, but there has been talk of starting a new one.”

“Capital! They might take an interest in our dig.” Behind his glasses, his dark eyes twinkled.

“I suppose I could mention it next time I’m in town, but for now, I really must be off. My sister has gone missing, you see, and I’m hoping to—”

“Oh! I nearly forgot. That was the other thing I wished to talk to you about.”

“Penny? You’ve seen her?”

“Indeed. My nephew told me to relay to you he’s acquired a new assistant for the day—your sister.” He chuckled merrily. “Apparently the girl stowed away in our wagon this morn. At any rate, she’s having the time of her life, and you can rest assured Bram will take excellent care of her until she returns with the team for dinner.”

Oh, that girl! Penny’s antics would be the death of her. Eva glanced past the barn toward the fields, as if by some supernatural act the girl could see the glower on her face. Any number of dangers were a possibility for a foolish girl venturing out alone, especially one with sightless eyes. She could’ve easily been hurt or accidentally left behind.

Or worse.

“There now, Miss Inman. Don’t fret.” Professor Pendleton patted her shoulder. “Miss Penny is ensconced at a desk beneath the tent, happily inspecting some recent finds, and when she’s not singing to herself, she’s dictating what her gifted sense of touch can detect. Truly, Bram couldn’t have found a more perfect task for the girl.”

The tension in Eva’s neck eased—not completely, but at least somewhat—and she smiled at the old fellow. Penny was safe and accounted for, and that was what truly mattered. “I appreciate your nephew’s kindness, and yours. My sister can be a bit of a wild card at times.”

Then again, so could Bram.

Could she truly trust him to know how to keep Penny safe?

Bram guided the horses along the last stretch of road to the house. Behind him, the three students boasted about who was the better field hand. Beside him, his uncle praised Penny’s performance in the work tent, telling her what a fine student she’d been and how she might excel at a school for the blind he knew of in London. The rhythmic clip-clopping of hooves added to the pleasing chatter, and a smile eased across Bram’s lips. All was right in the world. In fact, it was days like this he wondered why he should ever again set foot inside a stuffy classroom reeking of sweaty young men. The grand weather, how well the team had meshed, and all their spectacular finds had added up to a smashing day.

Yet when he drove into the yard, all that contentment was crushed, ground into the gravel with each heavy-footed pace of a woman in a brown coat gripping a lantern—

And marching his way.

He set the brake as Eva approached, her pale blue eyes sparking in the moonlight.

“I should like a word with you, Professor Webb.” She spit out his name as she would a mouthful of soured milk, then looked past him to Penny. “And I will speak with you, sister, before you retire.”

Next to him, Penny whispered, “She’s angry.”

“I should say so,” he whispered back. “How about if you and my uncle hop down to see if Mrs. Pottinger has any dinner left? You must be famished. I know the rest of the men are.”

“I am.” Penny grinned, then impetuously threw her arms around him. “Thank you for such a fun day. Same time tomorrow?”

He didn’t dare glance back at Eva as he endured the embrace. He didn’t need to. He could feel her icy gaze boring into him, her wrath hitting him between the shoulder blades like grapeshot.

“Maybe not tomorrow, young Miss Inman.” He tousled her wind-blown hair. With the girl’s aptitude, she truly ought to be out at the dig again. He would do everything he could to encourage the girl’s natural appetite to learn, even if it meant facing Eva’s wrath. Penny ought not be squelched by the world around her. After all, he knew how harsh that world could be. “You did a bang-up job today, Penny, and I suspect it won’t be long before your services are needed once again. Now off with you.”

“Come along, Miss Penny.” Uncle Pendleton guided the girl down. “If I don’t collect that dinner basket for the men, I could have a riot on my hands.”

“Don’t wait on me, Uncle. I’ll catch up with you and the fellows shortly.” Hopefully, anyway. Eva might kill him in cold blood with the mood she was apparently in.

“We’ll gather after dinner, men,” Bram called over his shoulder, then jumped down from the seat, his boots landing with a harsh crunch. Before Eva could fire her first shot, he held up his hands in surrender. “You needn’t say anything. I apologize for not getting Penny back sooner. She was completely swept up in the moment. We all were. And I think you’ll understand why when I tell you—”

“What I understand, Professor Webb, is that it is half past seven. Do you seriously think a young girl ought to be in the company of five grown men until well after dark?”

One of the horses snorted—which he seconded, thoroughly frustrated. He’d apologized! What more did the woman want? “I would never let harm come to your sister. She was with me the entire time, not with some stranger. You know me.”

“I do know you, which only adds to my concern. You are all action and hang the consequences! Any number of things could’ve happened to her out in that field.” Her nostrils flared, her cheeks flaming redder. “I was worried about her, Bram. I am the one responsible for her care, not you. You had no right to keep my sister out so late.”

He sighed. She did have a point. Penny wasn’t one of his students—but that didn’t stop him from being a teacher, and she had learned so much today. The light in the girl’s eyes had been hungry. “Listen, Eva, your sister is not a bird to be caged. Like you, she owns a brilliant mind, one that needs to be fed. There are schools for the blind where she would thrive. Have you ever considered sending her to such an institution?”

Anguish rippled across her face, eventually hardening into a determined jut of her jaw. “I have been teaching Penny myself, and thus far she is not beyond what I know. I realize she will have special needs, such as learning Braille, but I intend to learn it right along with her.”

“I did not mean to insult you. I merely wish to see Penny spread her wings a bit, fly like the bird she is. At the very least, please consider allowing her to come back out to the dig. I promise I shall keep better track of time in the future.”

Moonlight draped over her shoulders, which visibly lowered. “I ... I will consider it. Thank you.” She turned away.

With a light touch to her arm, Bram pulled her back. “Hold on. You’ve had your say with me, and that’s fine, but please don’t be as harsh on the girl. Penny had a wonderful day. Do not ruin it.”

She slipped from his hold, the lantern in her hand swinging wildly. “My sister should not have hidden away in your wagon like that. She needs to understand the seriousness of her rash actions.”

“But she’s just a girl, prone to following the whims of her heart, not convention. I seem to remember you following me around like a little lamb when you were that age, and yet you appear to have turned out just fine.” More than fine, truth be told, with the way her skin glowed in the spare light, her loosened red hair gleaming. There was no denying her earthy appeal.

Eva flattened her lips. “I only mean to save Penny from the same scars I endured.”

Hah! There was far more behind that statement than she let on. “You mean you wish to save her from me, is that it?” He flung out his hands, cracking his forearm against the wagon but so be it. “Am I such a monster to you?”

She lifted her face, her blue eyes searching his, like she was looking for answers to questions he couldn’t begin to understand. The type of stare he’d give anything to hide from. Yet instinctively he knew not to turn away or allow some glib remark to slip out. So he stood deathly still in the October night, bearing the awful weight of her scrutiny.

And dreading what she might say next.

At length, she sighed, her warm breath puffing a small cloud into the cold air. “No, I do not think you are a monster.”

The tension in his jaw eased, yet whatever wounds he’d unintentionally inflicted had to be drained completely before healing could take place. “Look, Eva, I am sorry for the sins of my youth. I acted recklessly, clearly causing you pain at times and leaving you with a bad taste in your mouth where I am concerned. But that was twelve years ago. I’ve grown up since then. What will it take for you to trust me?”

Her gaze dropped as if the answer might be found written in the scuff marks on the toes of her shoes. She clutched the lantern with both hands in front of her. Was this such a difficult question?

Eventually she lifted her head. “If only I could be sure you weren’t keeping secrets from me.”

His brows shot to the rafters. What suspicions did she harbour behind that pretty face of hers? “Why would I keep secrets from you?”

“Because you did all those years ago. You must have known you would be leaving Royston, yet you never breathed a word of it to me. You never told me where you went or why. You never even said good-bye. How can I trust you when I don’t know if you will do the same again?”

“Is that all? Eva, I promise I won’t leave you without a good-bye this time. Believe me, I would not have done so all those years ago if I’d had a choice in the matter—which I did not. Not even I knew I was leaving at the time, but that is a discussion for another time. Please, give me a chance, won’t you?” He flashed the most disarming smile he could muster.

And when a small smile whispered across her lips, satisfaction made him grin all the more.

She lifted her nose in the air. “Very well, badger. I will try. We shall leave the past behind us, where it belongs.”

“Thank you, but we can leave that nickname in the past as well, if you don’t mind.” He winked as he grabbed the lantern from her hands. “Follow me.”

Her footsteps lagged behind his. “Where are we going?”

“Not far.” He set the light on the back end of the wagon. Pulling a canvas sack to the edge, he groped inside for a small wrapped parcel. What a find this had been! He peeled away the cloth and held out the relic.

Eva’s nose crinkled. “What is it?”

He set the pendant in her hand. Granted, the trinket didn’t look like much now, but it surely would once polished. He pointed to each part as he spoke. “This thin gold sheet holds a cylindrical bead that’s pierced through longitudinally. You can’t see it in the evening’s shadows, but that bead is made of a stunning azure glass. Attached to the bottom are two golden loops that each connect to a pearl. Either some woman wore this as a pendant or she’s missing an earring, for we only found the one.”

After a hard look at the bauble in her hand, Eva’s gaze drifted to his face. “Is it valuable?”

“Very much.” He grinned. “I thought you might like to see the fruits of our labour.”

“Your uncle showed me the oil lamp earlier today, so I have no doubt on the matter.”

“See? You’re trusting me already.”

She laughed, a delightful sound after such seriousness. “I suppose time will tell, Professor.” She offered back the pendant. “And with that, I bid you good night.”

She collected the lamp, leaving him with the moonlight as his sole companion. No, that wasn’t quite true. He was also accompanied by a foreign urge to be a man she could trust, one she could confide in, depend upon, lean against.

But did that mean he must tell her all his secrets?