For Elise by Sarah M. Eden Page A

wait?”
    Anne watched him very closely as he spoke. She has always been very wary of strangers. Except for you, oddly enough. Though Anne wasn’t entirely comfortable with him, she seemed to like him, at least a little. He would work at building on that promising beginning.
    “What would you like to do?” Miles asked her, looking at Anne directly as Elise always did when speaking to her. “We can do anything you’d like.”
    She seemed a bit confused.
    “A little slower and with fewer words,” Elise suggested. “Your accent is unfamiliar to her. And speak a touch louder, so she can hear more of what you say.”
    Miles posed the question once more but more simply. “What should we do?”
    He asked twice more before understanding lit her eyes.
    “Run,” she said.
    Miles smiled at the hopeful enthusiasm in her face. He nodded encouragingly. Quick as that, Anne hopped to her feet and ran into the open field.
    Elise watched her, a look of love on her face that Miles remembered well on his own mother’s face. A moment later, Elise was on her feet, chasing her daughter through the grass. Her laugh echoed and jumped. Miles held his breath at the welcome sound of it.
    I have been unhappy for a long time. Elise’s words reverberated in his mind.
    “You seem happy now,” he whispered to himself, watching her.
    It was suddenly not enough to only watch. Miles slipped his jacket off, tossing it onto the picnic blanket, and ran after them. Anne glanced back at him again and again as if making certain he was still playing her game. Elise smiled broadly, and not even a hint of the weight he’d seen remained in her eyes. He had needed that moment, had needed to see, even for a fleeting instant, a carefree and happy Elise.
    He found wildflowers and gave them, with an exaggerated bow, to Anne, who blushed quite endearingly. So Miles suggested they find a flower for the girl’s mother. Anne nodded her agreement and selected a daisy from her own bouquet and gave it quite solemnly to Elise. She accepted it and hugged Anne tightly before letting her run free once more.
    Though Miles was far from perfect in his attempts to communicate with Anne, he was doing better. An impulse struck him, and remembering a similar experience with his father, he lifted Anne into the air and spun her around in a circle over his head. She squealed the oddest, most wonderful-sounding laugh he’d ever heard, which instantly had him laughing. Again and again he spun her until his own dizziness threatened to bring their game to an abrupt halt.
    He set Anne on her feet. She swayed a little. When they were both finally steady, Anne gave him a brilliant smile—and had full claim to her very own bit of his heart. She ran in the direction of the blanket, no doubt to share their game with Mrs. Ash. Miles watched her as she ran, already formulating plans to improve his ability to speak to the sweet child.
    He looked at Elise, intending to ask for suggestions on mastering Anne’s language, when he noticed a single tear slipping down her cheek. “Oh dear. What have I done now?”
    Elise shook her head even as she swiped at her eyes. Miles’s handkerchiefs were in his jacket, else he would have offered her one.
    “Are you upset?” he asked, unsure why she would be.
    “No.” She even smiled a little. “Anne doesn’t laugh often. Hardly ever, in fact.”
    Miles sighed in relief—these were tears of joy.
    “And she smiled at you. She so seldom smiles. You must come try again.” Elise eagerly motioned him toward the picnic blanket.
    Miles opened his mouth to answer but was cut off.
    “Lord Grenton,” a woman called out from somewhere behind him.
    He turned around and recognized her and the young lady at her side on the instant. “Mrs. Haddington. Miss Haddington. What a pleasure to see you again.”
    The Haddingtons were his nearest neighbors, their estate sitting not a half mile up the road. They had been among the first to welcome him when he’d first