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Thinking of home made my heart ache and reminded me why I’d agreed to take this job in the first place. Evelyn was an ill-timed distraction from my mission. A delicious and potentially delightful distraction, but a distraction all the same. The professor thought he could spare me for a few days, but he didn’t really understand what was at stake. I clenched my fists. My cataloging project gave me an excuse to examine every piece of the collection up close. But if I were right, and what I’d been searching for was here, I couldn’t waste any time.
I only had a few more days before the solstice. Time was running out. I needed to speed up the work without breaking my promise to my family and blowing my cover. Now that the professor had asked, if I didn’t spend time with Evelyn, I might get sacked before I found the artifact I’d been sent to retrieve.
Sod it. I’d find a way to make it work. I wanted to spend more time with Evelyn. I’d find a way to do both. Without magic.
2
When I returnedfrom my run the next morning, I found Aunt Vivian outside, bundled up and enjoying a cup of tea. She had given me a tour of the gardens as I cooled off, telling me about the improvements she’d been making. As we returned to the flagstone path that would lead us back to the mudroom, she decided it would be a good time to catch up on my love life.
“Your father said you broke up with that boyfriend of yours.”
“Connor,” I reminded her, scrubbing the post-run dried sweat off my face. “Months ago. But technically, we’re still friends.” I stepped closer to her and linked my arm through hers, hoping my running shirt didn’t smell. I didn’t want to talk about Connor. What I wanted was an opening to confess why I was really here. “Is that all Dad told you?”
“Why, is there something else I should know?” She gave my arm a squeeze.
I took a breath. Now was my chance. “I quit my job.” I’d begged my father to keep quiet, and I had to admit, I was a little surprised that he’d resisted the opportunity to complain to his sister and request she use her influence with me to convince me to change my mind.
“That bad?” She arched an eyebrow at me.
I sighed. She was taking this well, as I expected she would. “It was horrible.” I wasn’t ready to talk about how horrible it had been, and I knew she wouldn’t press me. “I think I might go back to school.”
“Is that why you wanted to spend Christmas with us this year?” she asked.
I nodded. “I needed to get away.”
“Your father’s not thrilled, I take it?” she asked.
“Definitely not thrilled.” I frowned, remembering the argument we’d had over the phone before I left for England. “He supports the graduate-school part but thinks I should have waited until just before school starts to quit.”
“Better to take some time off.” She patted my arm with her free hand. “What do you want to study?”
“History.” I bit my lip, nervous about her reaction. “It’s always been the part of my job I like the best. Who knows? Maybe I could be a professor like Uncle Oscar. Or go back to working in a museum, but as an historian instead of an admin assistant.”
She grinned. “He’ll be thrilled to hear that, you know.”
“Really? Do you think so? I’ve been nervous about saying anything. I’ve applied to a few programs and been accepted to Berkeley, but I haven’t heard back from Oxford yet.” Uncle Oscar taught at one of the local universities, but he had connections to Oxford. If he really did support me, and if I had some experience working with him, I was certain I’d have a better chance at getting accepted into their program.
Aunt Vivian glanced at me. “You’ve been quite busy, haven’t you? Why haven’t you said anything?”
I shrugged. “It’s not practical. I was a business major. If Connor’s old coach hadn’t hired me, I wouldn’t know the first thing about history. I thought everyone would laugh at me.”
“Well, that’s your father talking, there,” she said. “Between this and your breakup, you’ve probably been getting an earful. But you know you can talk to me, don’t you?”
“I do. I just wanted to tell you in person.” I’d hoped that, if anyone might understand, it would be Aunt Vivian. My parents had invested too much in my education and my relationship to understand why neither of those was ever going to work. But I remember, when I was little, I heard my mother tell someone that Aunt Vivian had left her fiancé at the altar. At the time, I didn’t understand what that meant, but now I knew Aunt Vivian’s decision to move to England and marry Uncle Oscar had been quite the family scandal. To this day, no one talked about it. So I knew she wasn’t likely to tell me to do the responsible thing.
Since I’d gone this far, I decided I might as well casually steer the conversation toward my plan to work with Uncle Oscar. “Let’s talk about something else. How about you and Uncle Oscar? How’s the museum exhibit coming along?”
“Not bad. I’m so glad he agreed to bring on that boy, Liam, to help him. Now that the historical society has asked him to give a series of lectures in Scotland in the spring, he’s got that to sort out as well. Oscar’s never been the most organized man, and Liam’s been so much help. He keeps me sane, not having to talk Oscar through every crisis. You met him?”
“Yes.” I flashed back to Liam’s floppy hair and baggy sweater, and his lack of credentials. “That was a surprise. Why didn’t you tell me that Uncle Oscar had hired a secretary?”
“I’m sorry about that. It must have slipped my mind. I’ve been so busy with the fund-raiser for the university. Then, supervising the greenhouse construction. They finished it just in time, too. It’s going to be lovely to have a vegetable garden again.” She sighed.
On any other day, I’d have been happy to talk about Aunt Vivian’s projects and vegetables, but today I wanted answers about what in the world they were thinking letting that guy into their house. “Liam said he’s been living here? Since October?” It was bad enough that he wasn’t even qualified to work with Uncle Oscar, but letting a random stranger move in with them was completely bizarre. Besides, it was the holidays. Didn’t he have family to go stay with? What was he doing here?
“We gave him the old attic room. You remember? You and your brothers stayed up there the last time you came to visit? He’s very quiet, though. You won’t even notice he’s in the house. And since I don’t have to help Oscar with his work, I’ll have more time to spend with you.” She patted my hand and smiled.
My stomach clenched at her mention of the attic room—of my attic room. So that’s why I’d been put in the guest room. A childish anger filled my chest, but I squashed it down.
