Free Sick of Shadows by Sharyn McCrumb Page B

event—”
    But Eileen was carefully aligning the blank cover sheet over her piece of stationery. She motioned for Elizabeth and Mildred to witness it. After a moment’s hesitation, they bent down and scribbled their nameson the bottom of the page. Eileen then handed the paper to the lawyer.
    “Thank you very much for your time,” she said, walking with him toward the door.
    “Just let me wish you much happiness. You just think about that lovely wedding coming up, and put all thoughts about wills and legal matters right out of your mind.”
    Eileen nodded solemnly and showed him out. When the door had finally closed behind him, she leaned against it with a sigh of relief. “Now I can go and paint.”
    Elizabeth had the house to herself for most of the afternoon. Amanda and Louisa had not returned from their shopping expedition; Dr. Chandler called to say that he wouldn’t be home until dinnertime; and there was still no sign of Captain Grandfather and Michael. She wondered what they found to talk about on the drive to the county library. Geoffrey had stopped in about two o’clock to announce that he was going to a rehearsal for his play, and she had politely declined his invitation to go along. Charles and Eileen were still somewhere between the house and the lake, she supposed.
    She finished reading the book she had brought with her, and was in the library trying to do a sketch of Alban’s castle for Bill.
    She wondered where Alban was. He had driven off an hour or so before without a tennis racket. She held up her drawing and inspected it. The lines were a little crooked and the proportions weren’t quite right, but Bill would get the general idea. Alban ought to provide postcards, she thought, smiling to herself. After all their laughter at Alban’s expense, it seemed strange to think of him as an ordinary, likable person. The castle looked less bizarre to her than it had at first—probably in the light of his explanation. She decided to leave off the dragon she had originally planned to put in the foreground. But she was still going to put the little flag on the top of the tower, with her version of a suitable motto: “A man’s home is his castle.” Elizabeth walkedover to the window to count the tower windows again—maybe his car would be back in the driveway.
    It wasn’t, but another car was pulling up in the Chandlers’ drive: a little green Volkswagen she hadn’t seen before. She watched as the driver stopped the car and headed for the front door. He was a stocky, dark-haired man of about thirty, wearing a yellow tee shirt that read “Jung At Heart.” He looked up at the house, then over at Alban’s and shook his head. When Elizabeth saw that he was indeed coming to the Chandlers’ front porch, she hurried to the front door and waited for the bell to ring.
    I wonder who this is, she thought. Not the minister, surely! Maybe he’s somebody from Cherry Hill who has come for the wedding. Aunt Amanda would love that. He must be new around here if he hasn’t gotten used to Albania. Who else is supposed to come?
    A few seconds later, when he introduced himself, she remembered.
    “Come in, Dr. Shepherd. I’m Elizabeth MacPherson, Eileen’s cousin.”
    “Thank you very much. I wasn’t sure I had the right house.” He glanced uncertainly over his shoulder. “What is that facility across the road?”
    “Oh, that’s my Cousin Alban’s castle,” said Elizabeth sweetly. “Would you like to come into the library? I can get us some coffee. I’m afraid I’m the only one here right now, but the family should be back soon.”
    He followed her into the library, pausing only to register a glance of recognition at the gray and black painting in the hall.
    “Aunt Amanda just sent you a wedding invitation,” said Elizabeth, settling down in the wing chair. “Yesterday! You couldn’t have received it yet!”
    “No, that’s right, I haven’t. Eileen presented me with a handwritten invitation and a