By Dana Cameron
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Additional resources for A Fugitive Truth
Michael looked as if he expected my polite evasion, and it didn’t impress him. “He’s wandering from institution to institution on the strength of the book until it’s time for him to retire. ” I could only nod. Dr. Glasscock was a decidedly odd duck and getting odder every minute. “Those ‘finishing touches’ have been in the works for about seven years now and counting, so I wouldn’t hold my breath waiting for it. ” It seemed the only safe thing to say, under the circumstances, but it wasn’t safe enough.
I just shook my head and wandered back to the house as the sunlight finally bled away in the west. Talk about falling down the rabbit hole; the acquaintances I’d made in the past several hours were no less strange than Alice’s. And this wasn’t even my first official full day. I sighed and let myself in the back door. Welcome to Shrewsbury, Emma. Chapter 2 AS I DESCENDED THE STAIRS THE NEXT MORNING I smelled coffee and was grateful that I wouldn’t have to figure out the kitchen without benefit of caffeine.
And it wasn’t yet fashionable in Europe for even wellborn women to be so educated. And the tone of the epigram was so strongly religious, that told me a lot about her as well. This was going to be a trip. I could tell it would be an adventure to learn about this woman’s life. I closed my eyes and said a little prayer to Saint Helena, the patron saint of archaeologists, before I looked at the first entry: May 29/This morning took into service Nora, a little blacke Wenche… That slowed me down a second.