Free Aunt Dimity's Good Deed by Nancy Atherton Page A

watched him closely—an easy task, since our knees were almost touching—I detected not a trace of irony or self-consciousness in his comment. He appeared to be entirely unaware of his impact on the hotel’s staff.
    I was acutely aware of his impact on me, however. It took an enormous amount of self-restraint not to lean in to him as I tucked the slip of paper into my blazer pocket, and although I knew I should be asking probing questions, I couldn’t for the life of me think of one.
    “Have you worked for William very long?” Gerald asked.
    “Ever since college,” I answered. Nell wasn’t the only one who could improvise.
    “Yet you knew nothing of his daughter or Nicolette?” Gerald cocked his head to one side. “How strange.”
    “I knew he’d had problems at home,” I assured him, “but Mr. Willis doesn’t bring that sort of thing into the office with him.”
    “Very wise,” said Gerald.
    “Did you have a pleasant visit?” I ventured, beginning to find my feet. Gerald was remarkably easy to talk to.
    “I enjoyed meeting Cousin William,” said Gerald, “but I don’t think I was of much help to him. He wanted to know about a woman named Julia Louise and a family quarrel that took place sometime in the eighteenth century, but I knew less about it than he did. I referred him to my cousin Lucy, in London. Lucy’s the family historian.”
    So Willis, Sr., was rootling around in family matters past, I thought, just as Dimity had warned. “Did Mr. Willis get a chance to discuss his proposal with you?” I asked, more concerned, for the moment, about the present. “His plan to open a European office?”
    “He mentioned it,” Gerald acknowledged. “But I told him he’d be much better off speaking with Lucy. She runs the firm now.”
    I felt my heart sink straight through the parlor’s tatty carpet. It was true, then. Willis, Sr., was planning to move to England. He was planning to leave me alone in the mansion with his stick-insect sisters and his invisible son. A shadow seemed to pass before my eyes, and it took me a minute to find my voice.
    “Do you think Lucy’ll be willing to go ahead with the plan?” I asked.
    “I imagine so.” An expression of mild regret crossed Gerald’s face as he turned to look toward the picture windows. “Lucy’s been shorthanded ever since I left the firm. ”
    “I’d heard that you’d given up your job,” I said hesitantly. “To be perfectly honest, I’d heard certain rumors....”
    “We all make mistakes, Miss Shepherd.” Gerald gazed at me in silence, then got to his feet and strolled slowly to the French doors, where he stood looking out at the forest, his chestnut hair aglow in the slanting rays of the late afternoon sun. “As I told your employer, I was under a great deal of pressure at the time—putting in long hours for demanding clients....” He looked over his shoulder. “Surely you’ve encountered the same difficulties on your side of the Atlantic.”
    I nodded, and he turned to the windows again.
    “I was also concerned about my father, Thomas Willis. He’s a great man.” Gerald folded his arms and sighed deeply. “He was head of the firm until his heart gave way. It happened three years ago, and for a few months I thought I might lose him. Between worrying about him and trying to maintain a normal schedule at the firm, I ... made some mistakes. So I left.”
    “To come ... here?” I said, stealing a glance at the electric fire.
    Gerald’s dazzling smile reappeared as he turned to face me. “The Larches may not be everyone’s idea of paradise, but it suits me. Apart from that, I have time for my father now that I’m here, and that’s what really matters.”
    “Yes,” I agreed, “that’s what really matters.” I stared at Gerald’s broad shoulders, silhouetted against the green-gold shadows of the forest, and felt a sudden, urgent need to speak with Willis, Sr., before he met with Lucy, to-tell him that I had time for