Free Aunt Dimity's Death by Nancy Atherton Page A

do I detect a note of dismay?”
    “Oh, yes,” I said, my chin in my hands. “I think you could put it that way.”
    “Might I ask why?”
    I turned to face him. “Do you know what your son did?”
    “I tremble to think.”
    “He bought
clothes
for me! A whole closetful!” It sounded so trivial, now that I’d said it aloud, that I was afraid Willis, Sr., would laugh, but he seemed to understand exactly what I was getting at.
    “Without consulting you? How very presumptuous of him.” After a thoughtful pause, he added, “And how unlike him. If you will permit a personal observation, Miss Shepherd, my son has always been most reserved with the young ladies of his acquaintance.”
    “Reserved?” I said. “Bill?”
    “I would go so far as to say he displays a certain degree of shyness in their company. I cannot imagine him selecting apparel for them.” Willis, Sr., leaned toward me. “Tell me, has he done anything else you deem noteworthy?”
    “He took me up on the roof this morning to look at a meteor shower.”
    Willis, Sr.’s jaw dropped. “He took you to Arthur’s dome? Oh, but that is extraordinary. Unprecedented, in fact. The students have access to it, of course, but I have never known him to
invite
anyone up there, aside from myself. I cannot think why …” He frowned for a moment, clearly at a loss.
    I wasn’t at a loss. It stood to reason that Bill couldn’t play Handsome Prince games with the rich and polished “young ladies of his acquaintance.” What he needed was a Cinderella, a grateful orphan girl to mold as he pleased. Just thinking about it made my blood pressure rise all over again, but it wasn’t something I could explain to his loving father.
    “My dear Miss Shepherd,” said Willis, Sr., finally, “I can offer no explanation for my son’s curious behavior. I can only hope that you will believe me when I tell you that he has a good heart. I am sure he meant well, however clumsily he may have expressed himself.
    “Be that as it may,” he went on, “I am compelled to inform you that his actions do not constitute grounds for circumventing Miss Westwood’s wishes. I confess that it saddens me, however, to think that my boy’s presence has become intolerable to you—”
    “That’s not what I meant,” I said hastily. “Your son isn’t
intolerable
, Mr. Willis. He’s just a little …”
    “Rash?” suggested Willis, Sr.
    “But in a thoughtful way,” I assured him. “I’m sure that it’s all a matter of … getting used to him.”
    Willis, Sr.’s face brightened. “I am so pleased to hear you say that, Miss Shepherd. You will proceed as planned, then? You will go to England and write the introduction? It meant so much to Miss Westwood.”
    “Of course I’ll go,” I said. “It means a lot to me, too.”
    “And you will accept my invitation to remain here as my guest?” he asked.
    What could I do? Throw the old man’s kindness back in his face? I nodded and he looked well pleased. He placed the papers on the coffee table and we sat in companionable silence. I was still somewhat dazed by the prospects that lay before me. The biggest decision I’d had to make lately was the number of books I’d allow myself to check out of the public library at one time. Now here I was, with an overseas trip, an unlimited expense account, and a chance to earn ten thousand dollars doing something I knew I would enjoy. I didn’t know where to start. What did people
do
with expense accounts? I had no past experience to go on, but as I looked at Willis, Sr.’s patient smile, an idea began to take shape.
    “Are you feeling okay, Mr. Willis?” I asked, twisting my hands nervously in my lap.
    “How thoughtful of you to inquire,” he said. “Yes, thank you, Miss Shepherd, I feel quite fit.”
    “Then would you … would you like to have dinner with me tonight?” I asked, adding hurriedly, “If you’re not too busy, and if you don’t have other plans, and if you’re sure