“Did he?” Willis, Sr., looked at Bill, who was conducting a careful survey of the ceiling. “How extraordinary. Perhaps my son suffered a blow to the head when he broke his arm. As you can see, Paul, I am not in any danger, grave or otherwise.”
Paul hefted the tire iron. “I’ll shove this back in the boot, then, and see if this Mrs. Burweed of yours can scare us up a pot o’ tea.”
“And sandwiches,” Nell called. “Lori’s had no dinner.”
“Righty-ho, my lady,” said Paul. He scanned the room and shook his head. “Looks like a ruddy war zone in here.” He turned on his heel and was gone.
“Gerald,” said Willis, Sr., “since this is your home, I feel compelled to ask if you approve of the proposed changes to this evening’s schedule of events. Are you quite up to continuing our discussion?”
“By all means.” Gerald slid his long legs over the edge of the couch and pushed himself to a sitting position. He placed one hand on the pile of pillows to steady himself and lowered the ice bag from his eye, which was swollen shut and livid. The bruise was sure to cover half of his face by morning.
“Christ,” Bill muttered. He passed Reginald back to me and went to sit next to Gerald. “Let me have a look at that.” Gerald tilted his head obligingly and smoothed his chestnut hair back from his forehead. “I’m sorry about this, Gerald.”
“Tush,” said Gerald. “Had I been in your position, I‘d’ve had the bounder’s head off.”
Bill frowned. “I think I should run you in for an X-ray.”
“A cup of tea will suffice.” Gerald raised the ice bag to his eye and extended his hand. “Pleased to meet you, Cousin.”
Bill grinned shamefacedly and took Gerald’s hand gingerly in his own. “Likewise, Cousin. I’ve heard a lot about you, and although I hate to say it, it all seems to be true.”
“I believe I’ll take that as a compliment,” said Gerald.
Willis, Sr., stood. He was a slight man, not nearly as tall or as broad-shouldered as his son, but at that moment he seemed to fill the room. “Before we continue,” he said, fixing each of us with the stem gaze of a disapproving schoolmaster, “I would appreciate it if someone would tell me why the three of you are here. Eleanor, I think.” He clasped his hands behind his back and nodded to Nell. “A brief account, if you please ... ?”
Nell took Willis, Sr.’s instructions to heart—her summary was a masterpiece of concision. She left out so much, in fact, that her entire account of our rich and varied travels took about three minutes and amounted to something along the lines of: “We were worried about you, William, so we followed you.”
Bill’s description of his misadventures at Little Moose Lake was equally succinct: “I was worried about Lori, so I flew over to find out what was wrong. Banged myself up a bit on the way.”
Willis, Sr., nodded sagely, looked from Nell to Bill, then walked over to stand directly in front of me. “Lori? Perhaps you will be more forthcoming?”
Before I could reply, the hall door opened and Mrs. Burweed and Paul came in, bearing tea, a massive spread of sandwiches, and a three-tiered pastry stand filled with butterscotch brownies. Willis, Sr., insisted that I have a bite to eat, but the minute I’d finished his gaze was back on me, kindly yet unwavering.
I answered his question as best I could. “At first,” I said, from my perch on the arm of Bill’s chair, “Nell and I came after you to try to talk you out of leaving Boston.”
“My fault,” said Bill. “If I hadn’t been such an idiot, you’d never have thought of leaving.”
“But you have been an idiot,” Willis, Sr., pointed out.
Bill ducked his head. “I know, and I’m sorrier than I can say, Father. Please don’t leave the mansion because of my stupidity. We need you.”
“I promise you,” Willis, Sr., agreed readily, “I will not leave Boston.”
I stared at him, taken aback by the ease with which he’d thrown up his complex plans. “But what about the house you’ve rented in Finch and all of that office furniture and equipment?”
“I am certain that it will be put to good use,” Willis, Sr., said. “Now, please continue with your account, Lori. You have explained why you followed me at first. Am I to understand that your motivation changed at some point?”
“Almost as soon as I began to meet Gerald’s family.” I glanced hesitantly toward the couch.
“Please, Lori,” Gerald said with a languid wave of his hand, “speak freely. Your father-in-law has been doing so all afternoon.”
“Once I met Lucy and Arthur and Uncle Williston,” I said to Willis, Sr., “I guess I stopped worrying about you and began worrying about ... everything else.”
“Such as?” Willis, Sr., coaxed.