Fidelia’s eyes lit up with delight. “Thank you so much!” she exclaimed.
Graham stood off to the side, nodding with a cool detachment—a bare minimum of greeting.
The gifts for Uncle Healy and Uncle Fowler were expensive blends of tea, the kind that bespoke taste and tradition.
The old patriarch surveyed the scene with satisfaction, a gentle smile tugging at his lips. “Alright, let’s not just stand around. Dinner’s ready—let’s eat.”
The dining table was all warmth and laughter on the surface, but beneath the facade, subtle tensions simmered.
Charis, feigning casual curiosity, asked, “Effie, I heard you grew up with your grandmother? Marrying into the Etheridge family must feel like quite the stroke of luck.”
Before Effie could respond, Lyman interjected, voice calm but unmistakably protective. “You’re too modest, Aunt Charis. Effie is gentle and kind, and she graduated from a top university. I’m the lucky one to have her as my wife.”
Charis was caught off guard by his rebuttal and forced a thin, awkward smile.
“We’re all hoping you two will give us some good news next year—maybe a chubby little addition to the family?” Marcia teased with a laugh.
Effie played along, lowering her gaze and blushing shyly.
So this is life among the wealthy, she thought. Not as effortless as it looked from the outside.
Sensing the tension, Fowler changed the subject. “Lyman, I heard the company has a new project going. How’s it coming along?”
Lyman’s eyes glinted with amusement. “You’re well informed, Uncle Fowler. But the details will have to wait until the board meets after the holidays.”
Fowler’s expression tightened for a split second, but he quickly masked it.
Healy’s and Fowler’s families retreated to their rooms.
Inside, Healy’s expression was stern as he spoke to Charis. “You need to watch what you say—especially around Effie. Didn’t you notice how much Lyman cares about her?”
Charis rolled her eyes, unimpressed. “She’s just some nobody. Why are you so worried? I bet Lyman’s just interested because she’s new.”
She couldn’t see what was so special about Effie. Hadn’t Lyman been close with Isabel before? How had things changed so quickly? Now he was married to Effie?
Healy frowned, lowering his voice in warning. “You don’t understand. The old man clearly approves of Effie—you saw it yourself at dinner. Besides…” He paused, his eyes sharp with calculation. “Lyman controls the company now. We can’t afford to cross him.”
Charis snorted and tossed her earrings onto the vanity. “I just can’t stand the way she pretends to be lady of the house. Didn’t you see her tonight, acting as if she already runs things?”
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