Aunt Dimity and the Deep Blue Sea

“The navy was ordered to avoid direct hits on Dundrillin,” Sir Percy explained. “There were a few unfortunate mistakes, naturally, but Dundrillin was made to last. It rests on solid bedrock, and the walls are twelve feet thick at their base. The ninth earl may have been daft as a badger, but he knew how to build a castle.”

 

 

“I feel sorry for the people who were forced to leave the island,” I said, with sincere fellow feeling. “The evacuation must have been wrenching for them.”

 

“Needs must in times of war,” Sir Percy said breezily. “Erinskil’s families returned to rebuild their homes shortly after the war, but the castle was left to rot. The Strathcairns couldn’t afford to repair it, but I could.” He winked. “The oil business was very kind to me.”

 

“It must have been,” I said, bemused. “What’s it like, being a laird?”

 

“The islanders gave me a chilly reception at first,” Sir Percy admitted. “They’d put in an offer of their own for the castle, you see, and I’d outbid them. But they warmed to me as soon as they understood that I wanted nothing from them and had no intention of changing their way of life, except for the better. I modernized the windmill farm, for example, made it ten times more efficient than it used to be.”

 

“I assumed the windmills were your idea,” I commented.

 

“The islanders installed the original system twenty years ago,” said Sir Percy. “They’re quite keen on self-sufficiency. They’re keen on hard cash, too, and I employed quite a few of them to work on the castle’s renovation. Cal Maconinch and his good wife act as caretakers when the castle’s vacant. Cal’s the local harbormaster, and he appreciates the extra income.”

 

“Don’t certain responsibilities go along with being a laird?” I asked.

 

Sir Percy nodded. “It’s like being a rather grand landlord, but my tenants have been gratifyingly undemanding so far. Haven’t had to repair so much as a dripping tap in the past three years, except for the ones in Dundrillin.”

 

“One more question,” I promised, “and then I’ll let you eat in peace.”

 

“I’m yours to command,” said Sir Percy, with a gentlemanly bow.

 

“The parlor and the dining room are charming,” I said. “And the tower suites are lovely.” I rested my chin on my hand. “So why is the entrance hall so . . . dreary?”

 

Sir Percy’s amiable smile became a sly grin. “I take a certain perverse pleasure in seeing the looks of dread on my guests’ faces when they first arrive. You, for example, looked like a condemned prisoner on her way to the gallows. I think you’ll agree that the entrance hall makes the rest of Dundrillin come as a delightfully cozy surprise.”

 

“You’re a bad man, Percy.” I clucked my tongue, then settled down to enjoy the rest of the marvelous lunch. When I asked Mrs. Gammidge if I could have the recipe for the sticky lemon cake, she obligingly retrieved it from the kitchen.

 

“It’s been Sir Percy’s favorite pudding ever since he was a boy,” she told me, gazing indulgently at her boss.

 

“It’s wonderful,” I said. “I’m going to make it for my husband as soon as I . . .” My voice faded and my spirits faltered. Sir Percy’s lively account of the island’s history had helped me briefly to forget the true and terrible reason for my visit to Dundrillin, but thoughts of home brought it rushing back.

 

“As soon as you get home,” Sir Percy finished firmly, “which will happen before you know it.” He wiped his mouth with a linen napkin and pushed his chair back. “Please thank Cook for an excellent meal, Mrs. Gammidge. My guests are going to help me walk it off. Come along, you two. Come and see my castle!”

 

 

 

 

 

Sir Percy had poured his heart and soul—not to mention quite a big chunk of change—into Dundrillin. What had once been a virtual ruin was now a leisure palace so complete that only die-hard nature lovers would ever feel the need to leave it.

 

His guests could view movies in the forty-seat screening room or swim in the heated pool. If they preferred a good read, they could lose themselves in the library. There was a computer room for those who wished to keep in touch with the outside world, and an observatory at the top of the southwest tower for those who wished to keep in touch with worlds beyond their own.

 

The workout room would satisfy all but the most demanding fitness freaks, and the sunroom would provide a happy retreat for those who liked to loll.The wine cellar seemed to go on forever, and if guests needed to clear their heads after an evening spent imbibing, they had only to stroll out onto the battlements and breathe in the crisp, clean air.

 

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