The Rise And Fall Of Reginald Everheart. Victoria Alexander
Effie’s husband was a military man. Colonel William Higginbotham was even now part of a mission to rescue British citizens and government officials in Abyssinia. From what they’d read in the papers and the infrequent letters Effie received, it did seem that he was safe and all had gone well.
Poppy dealt the cards. It was pointless to argue with Effie when she was in this mood and one really couldn’t blame her if on occasion the state of their existence annoyed her. Of the three friends, Effie’s husband was usually the one in the most obvious danger—the lot of a military man of course. Still, one couldn’t discount the threat of malaria or other tropical diseases, accidental injury in some uncivilized and probably uncharted location, native uprising or any number of other possibilities that could claim the life of any explorer. Poppy would never disparage Effie’s fears for her husband aloud but Poppy did think of the three friends, Effie’s lot was a tiny bit better than Poppy or Gwen’s. At least if something happened to the Colonel, Effie would be informed of his demise. Sir Charles and Malcolm could bid their wives farewell one day and head off into the unknown never to be heard from again. Not knowing what fate had befallen the man you loved was surely a unique kind of hell on earth.
“We do have each other.” Gwen picked up her cards.
“Thank God.” Effie blew a frustrated breath then mustered a reluctant smile. “I don’t know what I would do without you.”
“There is much to be said for family.” Poppy nodded and played a card.
Effie and Gwen were indeed her family. While they were originally connected only by circumstance, they were now bound together as tightly as if by blood. They had met some twenty years ago at a meeting of the Ladies Committee of the Explorers Club and had found they had absolutely nothing in common save the lack of a husband within sight. Still—and not one of them today could say exactly how it had happened—from mere acquaintances they had become friends and now were as close as sisters. None of them had much in the way of family and none had been blessed with children. At this point, in their mid to late fifties, they had shared much of their lives together through good times and bad, tears and laughter. They counted on each other for companionship and comfort and support. And would until they day they breathed their last.
“Let me ask you this, Effie.” Gwen set her cards on the table and folded her hands on top of them. “When you met William, all those years ago, and someone older and wiser had warned against marrying him as you would probably spend much of your life with him off somewhere in the service of Her Majesty, would you have listened?”
Effie stared at her cards. “William has always looked exceptionally dashing in his uniform.”
“Excellent answer,” Poppy murmured.
Gwen ignored her. “Would you have given up the handsome officer on the advice of another wife of a military man?”
Effie frowned. “I don’t think that question is at all fair. I fell in love with William very nearly the first moment we met.” She paused. “I did, however, give due consideration to his life and the future we might have together.”
“And you married him anyway,” Gwen said pointedly.
“How could I do otherwise?” Effie shrugged. “The man laid claim to my heart.”
“And even now, after all these years spent more alone than with him, you would marry him again. As I would marry Charles, and Poppy would marry Malcolm.”
“Yes, I suppose I would.” Effie heaved a resigned sigh. “Blast it all, of course I would.”
“My point exactly,” Poppy said firmly. “Dulcie and Mr. Shepard were meant for each other. We just need to make them see what is so obvious to anyone who looks at them.”
Gwen narrowed her eyes. “What do you mean we?”
“I haven’t figured that out yet.” Poppy chose her words with care. “But I thought the three of us together might come up with something. We can be quite clever when we join forces.”
Effie groaned.
“Your claim that they belong together is based on nothing more than an odd lack of conversation, the fact that they occasionally gaze at each other, something in the air and your own assessment of the situation,” Gwen said in that mildly patronizing way she employed when she thought Poppy’s ideas absurd. “I really don’t think—”
“See for yourself.” Poppy’s gaze shifted from one friend to the other. “Come to the library tomorrow. If you don’t see what I see, then I shall drop this matter altogether.”
“Will Mrs. Lithgow be there?” Effie asked.
Mrs. Lithgow was the head of the Ladies Committee, on her third husband, superior, sanctimonious and one of those people who thinks she knows everything. While she was not universally loved, she did manage to accomplish quite a lot that no one else wanted to do, so she was tolerated. In moderation.
Poppy grimaced. “I do hope not.”
“And if we see what you see?” Caution sounded in Effie’s voice.
“When you see what I see—” Poppy beamed “—you will help me come up with a brilliant way to make the two of them accept their, well, fate.”
Effie and Gwen traded glances.
“Oh, that does sound like fun,” Effie said drily. “Not to mention a great deal of effort.”
“Goodness, Effie, you know as well as I—” Poppy played her card and collected the trick “—love is always worth the effort.”
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