Aunt Dimity's Good Deed Read Online Free Page A

strangers. Mindful of a certain pink flannel bunny with whom I’d developed a special, if less publicly acknowledged, relationship, I applauded Nell’s chutzpah. “We had a look round,” she concluded, “found the note, and called you.”
    “There’s a note?” I asked sharply.
    Nell nodded. “It’s on the desk in the study. It’s addressed to you, Lori. Bertie thinks—”
    “Not now, Nell.” I waved her to silence, left the living room, and hastened up the hallway to the study, feeling a vast sense of relief. Willis, Sr., had left a note. Of course he’d left a note. The story about him disappearing with Aunt Dimity had been just that—a product of Nell’s over-fertile imagination. I should have guessed. Nell had a flare for the dramatic, and I knew better than anyone how readily flights of fancy took wing at the cottage.
    The study was dim and silent, the hearth cold, the lamps unlit. Layers of ivy filtered the sunlight that fell through the windows onto the large wooden desk and cast murky shadows on the book-lined shelves and the pair of leather armchairs facing the fireplace.
    I went straight to the desk, turned on the lamp, and saw a cream-colored envelope lying square in the middle of the blotter. I reached for it, hesitated, then turned back to face the hearth, vaguely disturbed. Willis, Sr.’s armchair was empty; his morning cup of tea sat, apparently untasted, on the low table where I’d placed it for him that morning; and the book he’d been reading was lying face-down and open on the ottoman.
    It was the book that bothered me. The first edition of F. W. Beechey’s Arctic memoirs had been a birthday present from Stan and a welcome addition to Willis, Sr.’s collection. He valued it highly, yet there it lay, carelessly abandoned, treated as though it were a cheap airport paperback. Emma noticed it, too, when she followed Ham into the study with Nell and Bertie. She gave me a puzzled glance, picked up the volume, closed it, and placed it on the low table beside Willis, Sr.’s now frigid cup of tea.
    I turned back to open the cream-colored envelope, rapidly scanned the message it contained, then read it again, aloud:
    “My dear girl,
    “I must leave shortly, so I will be brief. I have been called away unexpectedly on urgent business. It may take some time and I may have some difficulty apprising you of my whereabouts while I am gone, but there is no need to worry.
    “Please convey my sincerest apologies to Eleanor, and tell her that I hope she will find the time to continue our match upon my return.
    “Your most affectionate and obedient servant,
    “William.”
    I pursed my lips. “I think we’re the victims of a pair of merry pranksters,” I said, looking at Emma. “This note is a fake.”
    Emma turned to Nell, her eyebrows raised.
    “It’s certainly not like William to be so uninformative,” Nell agreed, fondling Ham’s ears.
    I stared hard at Nell for a moment, then let myself relax. “Okay, Nell. It was a good joke while it lasted, but I’ve caught on.”
    “Joke?” said Nell. “What joke?”
    “This joke.” I tapped the envelope impatiently. “This note is preposterous. Not in a million years would William write something like this. He doesn’t say where he’s going or why or for how long ... and then he tells me not to worry?” I shook my head. “I don’t think so. And I don’t see what any of this has to do with Aunt Dimity.”
    Nell’s only response was to point wordlessly at the seat of the tall leather chair opposite Willis, Sr.‘s, where a folded sheet of paper lay, half hidden in shadow. When Emma turned on the mantelshelf lamps, I saw that the sheet of paper was white and unlined, with a ragged tear along one edge, as though it had been torn from—
    My gaze darted to the place on the bookshelf where I kept Aunt Dimity’s blue journal.
    “It’s not there,” Nell informed me. “That’s what made me think Aunt Dimity had gone with him.”
    I nodded