Page 94 of Night Falls on Predicament Avenue
Anderson’s jaw worked back and forth, and he gave a polite smile. “Of course. It was the least I could do. And now in retrospect, I feel I owe you so much more.”
They looked at each other for a long, uncomfortable moment.
At last, Effie cleared her throat. “When do you leave?”
“Next Tuesday,” Anderson answered. He chuckled. “Then you shall be free of that horrid Englishman who has put you at risk of a sullied reputation. I do believe the town of Shepherd will move beyond it in time.”
Effie’s laugh was watery, and she hoped Anderson didn’t notice. She had once hoped for that. More than that, she ached for what she saw before her now. A man, a child, a family, a quiet future as a wife and a mother. God bless her sister, but Effie would be happy never to be independent or adventurous ever again. It had nearly gotten her killed, for pity’s sake, and for a woman who preferredBen-Hurover that sort of fear in real life ... well, perhaps Anderson was right. Maybe in the months to come, a young man would come out of the woodwork of Shepherd and steal her heart once and for all.
The very thought disappointed her.
Effie stood quickly, and Anderson jumped to his feet.
“I should be going.” She reached for her purse.
“Ah, yes.” Anderson gave a nod. He called for Gus and instructed the man to watch Cora and that he himself would see Effie to the door.
They moved silently together onto the porch of the little cottage.
“I suppose this is farewell then,” Effie said.
Anderson nodded. “Yes.”
“Thank you. It’s been quite the adventure.” Effie managed a smile.
Anderson returned it.
She waited just one more second in case this English lord wanted to change his mind and say something more personal. But no. He didn’t. He was still a man grieving the loss of his wife. A man overcome with needing to invest in his daughter so he could make up for lost time.
There was no need for Euphemia James in the life of Lord Lewis Anderson Archibald Mooring of Tiffany Ridge.
She made it to the front gate and pushed it open, hearing the front door close quietly behind her. It closed on her past, and yet it felt as if the door closed on her future too.
EFFIE
Two Months Later
She sat under the willow tree, blanket beneath her. The August heat was eased by a refreshing breeze. Effie felt the most contented she had been since Polly had passed away two months before. The James manor had become a place shrouded for weeks, and though they all managed their grief in their own ways, Effie found solace here beneath the willow. Where color bloomed and sunshine made sure the earth was warm, and she could hear the echoes of Polly’s laughter floating through the clouds.
Her father had hired Floyd to help out occasionally. Word had it that Mabel Opperman was failing. Effie had never had the heart to have the old woman held responsible for Effie’s attack. She had merely been trying to protect Floyd and baby Cora, andEffie could not blame her for that. Still, she’d no desire to see the old woman. But Floyd? He was different. Even now, as he lumbered by with a wheelbarrow, she took comfort in the good that had emerged from the bad.
“Effie?”
A long shadow cast across her open book in her lap. Startled and scarcely believing, she looked up at the man who towered over her.
“Anderson!” she exclaimed.
Effie struggled to stand, her book falling to the ground. “What are you ... why are you ...how?” He was supposed to be in England. There was no way for him to have sailed home and returned already.
His face remained in his familiar expressionless way. But his eyes stormed and rolled like thunderclouds. She could see emotion in him again. Emotions he’d quenched and squashed deep below the surface.
“How is it you are here?” she asked again.
“I made it as far as New York.” His admission sent a delicious shiver through her.
Effie nodded only because she didn’t know what else to do, and not because she understood.
Anderson swiped his hat from his head as a belated afterthought.
