Chapter 188
It was probably the first time she’d ever gazed at a man with such obvious infatuation, completely zoning out for so long. But honestly, who could blame her? Lyman was just unfairly gorgeous-so striking it was impossible not to sneak a few extra glances.
Effie cracked the window for some fresh air. The cool breeze brushed her face, and finally, she started to feel like herself again.
“So, um… why did Mom want us back at the old house again? Did something happen?” Effie asked nervously.
Lyman slowed the car, freeing one hand to squeeze hers gently. “No matter what’s going on, I’ll always be by your side,” he said softly.
Effie shot him a look, torn between laughing and crying. “Now you’re making me even more anxious.”
Lyman let out a soft laugh. “Guess I’m not very good at comfort, huh?”
Effie winked at him. “You’re fine, really.”
“Oh?” Lyman glanced over, trying to decide if she was teasing or genuinely reassuring him.
“Eyes on the road,” Effie coughed, stifling a smile.
With a resigned chuckle, Lyman turned his full attention back to driving.
Soon enough, they pulled up outside the Etheridge family estate.
Effie clambered out of the car, arms weighed down with bags of gifts-big and small.
“There’s no need for all this formality; you’re family,” Bancroft said warmly, his eyes soft with affection.
Effie thought to herself: That’s what people always say, but she’d always believed in the old saying no one hits a smiling face. She just wanted to make a good impression, even if it was subtle.
Lyman chimed in, “I told her the same thing, but she insists it’s not about etiquette. She just cares about everyone, so she put real thought into picking things everyone would actually use.”
Effie nodded. “They’re not expensive gifts, but I really hope everyone likes them.” She glanced gratefully at Lyman, warmth blooming in her chest.
She remembered how carefully she’d chosen gifts for Mrs. Lloyd-Adeline- hoping to win her over. But neither Adeline nor the others had so much as cracked a smile; even Mitchell had told her not to bother next time, since no one cared for her efforts anyway.
This time was another test. If the Etheridges reacted the same way, well… she’d know where she stood.
“What’d you get?” Fidelia asked, reaching for the bags.
But before she could dig in, Marcia shot her a warning look. “Fidelia.”
Fidelia, though clearly annoyed, stepped aside with perfect manners.
Effie couldn’t help but notice: when it came to good manners, the Etheridges were in a whole different league compared to the Lloyds.
Effie started handing out the gifts. Each one was practical rather than extravagant, but somehow, she’d managed to pick out exactly what each person would appreciate.
Bancroft’s present was a block of ink-a gorgeous, handcrafted one. The deep black sheen was flawless, the texture smooth and bubble-free, and the scent was pure and comforting.
Bancroft’s eyes lit up. He picked up the ink block, feeling its reassuring weight, turning it over in his palm. It made a crisp, satisfying clink, like bamboo.
“Excellent ink-truly excellent!” he exclaimed.
Bancroft had seen his share of fine things; if even he was impressed, it had to be the real deal.
“Effie, where’d you find this?” Uncle Healy asked.
Effie replied honestly, “It wasn’t actually from a store-a friend gave it to me. I thought Grandpa might like it, so I brought it along.”
She didn’t embellish the story. Some people would have gone on and on about how hard it was to find, just to boost their own image.
Her straightforwardness made everyone see her in a new light.
Of course, not everyone’s thoughts about Effie were so simple.