“Shall I investigate, sir?” Elliot asked.
“Leave it with me,” said Sir Percy, and reached for his wineglass. “Sorry to interrupt your evening, Elliot.”
“Not at all, sir.” Elliot nodded to each of us and left the dining room.
Damian’s features were inscrutable, but I could tell at a glance what Peter and Cassie were thinking: The drug smugglers strike again! Erinskil’s wicked residents didn’t want an observatory in their midst because they didn’t wish to be observed, so they’d intercepted Sir Percy’s mail and disposed of Jocelyn Withers’s applications. My young friends must have been sorely tempted to speak out, but they were true to their word. Although their covert glances spoke volumes, they kept their suspicions to themselves.
“I owe you an apology, Sir Percy,” said Peter. “I feel as though I’ve abused your hospitality. I had an ulterior motive for coming here tonight—and I assure you that Lori knew nothing about it. She invited us here in complete innocence.” He gave me an apologetic nod before turning back to his host. “I wanted to know why you’d turned down our request, but I’d no idea that my question would lead to such a disturbing revelation. You must be distressed.”
“Must I?” Sir Percy pursed his lips and peered at the Waterford chandelier, then shook his head. “I don’t think so. I’m sure there’s been a miscue somewhere, a simple misunderstanding that will be easily resolved. Elspeth MacAllen—Erinskil’s esteemed postmistress—is a woman of unimpeachable integrity. If she waylaid my post, I’m certain she did so with the best of intentions. And your apology, by the way, is unnecessary. If I were in your shoes, I’d have done the same—gone to the source to find the answer. Nothing wrong with that, my boy.”
Peter’s eyes began to twinkle. “I understand now why you and Lori get on so well, sir.You both like to think the best of people.”
“I’m afraid you’ll think the worst of me in a minute,” Sir Percy cautioned. “Because I have to tell you that, as Erinskil’s laird, I would have withheld my permission to build your observatory even if your applications had reached me.”
Peter’s eyebrows rose. “May I ask why, sir?”
Sir Percy rested his elbows on the table and tented his fingers. “Erinskil is a perfect jewel.To add or subtract anything would diminish its brilliance. I’ll contact your director and explain the matter to him. If he wishes, my people will help him to find another location that meets his requirements.”
“We’ve already found another location,” Peter informed him, “but thanks all the same.”
“If you don’t mind my asking, Sir Percy,” said Cassie, looking up from her plate, “didn’t your refurbishment of Dundrillin Castle add an awful lot to Erinskil?”
“Dundrillin is occupied only during the summer months,” Sir Percy told her, “and my guests do not intrude on island life. They come here to conduct business and to enjoy the castle’s many pleasant features, one of which is its fine cuisine.” He picked up his fork and waved it at Cassie. “Eat up, eat up. I don’t want Festhubert to accuse me of starving you.”
“There’s no danger of that.” Cassie laughed and renewed her assault upon the venison.
Peter needed no encouragement.
Sir Percy told travel tales throughout the rest of the meal and coaxed Peter and Cassie into telling some of their own. By the time Mrs. Gammidge served the sticky lemon cake—with strawberries this time, and enough clotted cream to clog every artery on the island—he’d formed a high opinion of the two. When he invited them to stay for an after-dinner film followed by a midnight swim in the heated pool, however, they begged off.
“We’re usually asleep by ten,” Peter confessed, stifling a yawn.
“Youth is wasted on the young.” Sir Percy sighed. “A word in your ear before you go, chaps. I run a tight ship at Dundrillin, but leaks are inevitable. I have little doubt that news of your persecution by the paparazzi will be common knowledge in Stoneywell by tomorrow morning. I don’t think the islanders will mind in the least—in fact, I’m sure they’ll sympathize—but if you feel uncomfortable, please feel free to come here and stay for as long as you like. I’ve plenty of room, as you can see, and I enjoy your company. Elstyn and Festhubert may be a pair of old fossils, but you’re not.”
Sir Percy offered to have Elliot Southmore drive them back to the village, but Peter and Cassie refused, saying that they’d sleep better if they had a chance to walk off some of Cook’s magnificent meal. They promised to return the next day for dinner, and Sir Percy, Damian, and I accompanied them to the entrance hall to wave them on their way.
“A fine young couple,” Sir Percy commented after they’d left. “They’re weathering their first storm like seasoned sailors. It’ll take more than a few pesky photojournalists to knock them off course.”