eighteen
Along, warm bath was the perfect cure for Effie’s fatigue.
The water was cold and inky when she climbed out of the bathtub. Every time she closed her eyes, the view of the smoky platform tormented her. But the horror of the day wasn’t the only thing occupying her mind.
She’d caught another glimpse of Tristan’s soul, and she was rather shaken by the experience. He’d been scared and worried sick about his brother. Not that he seemed less dangerous while in that state, but certainly more vulnerable. And his speech before the bomb had gone off had left a mark in her heart.
No one had ever been so honest with her and so shocking at the same time. She’d misjudged him. He cared about her. A lot. His proposal wasn’t simply a business transaction for him; it was something deeper.
“You have another bruise here, my lady.” Her maid applied comfrey poultice on Effie’s calf. “You’re covered in bruises. Shall we send for Dr. O’Neil again?”
“Don’t worry.” She tugged at the lapels of her dressing gown, staring at her reflection in the mirror of the vanity.
A couple of bruises marred her forehead, and a small cut sliced her chin. But what struck her was how pale she was. The day had drained her.
“It must have been terrifying, my lady.” The maid’s voice broke.
“I can’t complain. I’m in one piece.” She patted the maid’s hand. “I’m just tired now.”
“The bed is warm and ready.”
“Have you sent my message to Lady Vaughan?”
The maid nodded. “Lady Vaughan will see you tomorrow.”
There was a knock on the door.
“Effie?” Papa said in an urgent voice.
The maid had barely time to open the door before he rushed inside. “My lord,” she said.
“There you are.” He squeezed Effie in a tight hug that made her sob.
The maid left the room quietly.
“I’m fine, Papa.” She rested her head on his shoulder and inhaled the familiar scent of his cologne.
“I was terrified.” He quivered. “When I returned home and found your message, I went to the hospital but didn’t find you.”
“You must have missed me by a minute. I went to St. Bartholomew’s to visit Rowan. He got injured.”
He paled and sat on a chair. “Seriously?”
“A broken ankle that would probably make him limp, but he was lucky.” She shivered as the vision of Rowan lying in the hospital bed flashed across her mind. “They had to remove shrapnel from his leg, poor boy.”
“Why were you at Aldersgate Station?” He took her hand in a firm grip, and an accusatory tone slipped into his voice. “I thought you were in Greenford, visiting Colin and the girls.”
“I changed my plan at the last minute. Rowan asked me to go with him to the inauguration of Montcrest’s new locomotive.The boy was supposed to be with the machinist during the maiden voyage. It was a miracle he wasn’t onboard when the bomb went off.”
He breathed quickly. “You could have died or been injured, too. Why didn’t you listen to me and stay away from Montcrest?”
“I told you I didn’t want to disappoint Rowan. He’s a sweet boy.”
“Yes, but—” He pressed his lips hard and faced the fire. “You shouldn’t have been at the train station.”
She understood his anger to an extent. No one could have known a bomb would have exploded.
“I was so scared.” He held her, crushing her again. “I could have lost you. What a tragedy. It shouldn’t have happened.”
