Aunt Dimity Down Under (25 page)

“Fairworth House,” he replied calmly. “The ancestral home of the Fairworthy family. It is situated—”

“I
know
where Fairworth House is,” I interrupted. “It’s within spitting distance of Finch. I thought the place was derelict.”

“It is in need of refurbishment,” Willis, Sr., acknowledged, “but I should be able to move into it by the end of August. I hope you will permit me to stay at the cottage until then. I would like to be on hand to oversee the work.”

“
Of course
you can stay at the cottage,” I exclaimed, and leaned over to give him a hug. “Oh, William, this is the best news I’ve heard in ages. Bill and the boys will go crazy when they find out. Why didn’t you wait until we were all together to make your announcement? ”

“I learned only a few hours ago that my negotiations had been successful,” he explained. “My son and my grandsons are playing vital roles in what you have on numerous occasions called the fairy-tale wedding of the century. I did not wish to distract them from their duties.”

“But . . . why now?” I asked. “We’ve been trying to persuade you to move here since . . . forever. What changed your mind?”

“If Ruth and Louise Pym taught me anything,” he said, “it is that life—even a life that lasts for more than a hundred years—is short. I intend to spend what time is left to me with those I love.”

I beamed at him, restarted the car, and smiled all the way to St. George’s Church, where I, along with every other lady on the guest list, armed myself with a dainty but serviceable hanky. The men, though they would have denied it, used bandannas or pocket squares, depending on the nature of their formal attire.

It is an inarguable fact that more tears were shed at the wedding than at the funeral. Cameron, I knew, would have appreciated the irony, but I suspected that even he would have needed a handkerchief had he seen Nell gliding weightlessly down the aisle on Derek’s arm.

She seemed to bring her own light with her into the church. Her veil floated like a silvery mist around her halo of golden curls, and her gown was a gossamer dream of silk beaded with seed pearls and bordered with wisps of breathtakingly delicate lace. Her eyes shone like midnight-blue sapphires and her flawless oval face glowed with a love so pure that it should have made angels sing.

As she drifted past me I saw something of the Pym sisters in the tiny honeybees they’d embroidered in white along the edge of her veil. Their industrious hands had rarely been at rest during their lifetimes, and they’d beautified everything they’d touched. They would have been pleased right down to the toes of their sensible shoes to see their ethereal creation worn by a young woman they’d loved so dearly.

The fairy princess had become the fairy queen, and her chosen king was waiting for her. Kit stood at the altar rail, with his violet eyes fixed blissfully on Nell, freed at last by her radiance from the shadows of the past that had haunted him. The connection between the two shining souls was so strong it was almost palpable. They stood side by side before the vicar to say their vows, and when Kit lifted Nell’s veil and touched his lips to hers, the rapturous sighs that swept through the church nearly extinguished the altar candles.

There was much nose blowing and eye wiping‚ by men as well as women‚ as the happy couple made the return trip up the aisle, but merriment prevailed when we showered them with birdseed—which, according to the vicar, was more ecologically sound than rice—and applauded the carriage as it and its mounted escort clipclopped jauntily away from the church.

Bill, Willis, Sr., and I paused to pay our respects to the Pym sisters before we drove to the reception. The twin graves were awash with fragrant spring blossoms and marked with one headstone into which had been carved the sisters’ favorite verse from the Bible. They’d chosen a simple and well-known verse that, I believed, reflected their greathearted view of the cosmos.

GODIS LOVE;
AND HE THAT DWELLETH IN LOVE
DWELLETH IN GOD,
AND GOD IN HIM.

—JOHN IV:16

 

 

 

 

“And here comes Aroha herself,” I murmured, smiling as Bree approached.

Bree had spent most of the winter reading the gardening books she’d inherited from her great-grandaunts and discussing the contents with Emma. She couldn’t have learned more about the subject if she’d taken a graduate course in horticulture at Oxford. She’d planted the snowdrops, crocuses, daffodils, and primroses that had bloomed on the Pym sisters’ graves.

Bree had also bought an inexpensive used car from Mr. Barlow, who’d taken a shine to her, and spent time exploring the countryside on her own. She seemed intent on settling in for the long haul, which was, in my opinion, a good thing. I couldn’t wait to see what she would do with her great-grandaunts’ gardens. I somehow doubted that she’d replace their old-fashioned flowers with a practical but dull swathe of lawn.

Will and Rob still found her exotic and intriguing, as did the villagers. She’d fulfilled my expectations and outraged Peggy Taxman’s sensibilities by wearing a slinky fuschia tank dress to the wedding, displaying in one fell swoop her tattoos, her feminine curves, and her shapely legs, which the Sciaparelli boys seemed to think was a
very
good thing. Bree derived immense pleasure from getting up Peggy’s nose and did so fearlessly and as often as possible.

She swaggered over to straighten Willis, Sr.’s pocket square and to call an ebullient hello to Auntie Ruth and Auntie Louise. After dusting birdseed from their headstone, she followed us to the reception, where she presented the bride and groom with a gift on behalf of her late benefactresses.

“It may be a little premature,” she said. “Then again, it may not.”

The cheeky meaning behind her mysterious words became clear when Nell opened the box and held up an exquisitely embroidered christening gown for all to see. Nell’s musical laughter filled the air while Kit, blushing furiously, hastened to assure the crowd of extremely attentive onlookers that the gift was, indeed, premature, but nonetheless cherished.

Willis, Sr., increased everyone’s joy tenfold by sharing the news he’d already shared with me. He received so many congratulatory hugs that his pearl-gray tie developed a wrinkle, but I forbade him to return to the cottage to exchange it for another. I knew from recent experience that, had he gone, we wouldn’t have seen him again for hours.

Kit and Nell left for their honeymoon at half past eight. No one knew where they were going, but I was certain that, wherever they went, they would find paradise. After the big sendoff, Willis, Sr., repaired to the cottage to spend the rest of the evening ironing his tie and reading quietly in front of the fire.

Bill and I tucked a drooping Will and Rob into bed at the manor house, danced until midnight, and sat up until the wee hours with Emma and Derek, sharing memories of love’s first blossoming and hopes for the newlyweds’ future.

I didn’t have a chance to speak with Aunt Dimity until late the next day.

D
imity?” I said, gazing in triumph at the blue journal. “I’ve sold Bill on a family trip to New Zealand!”

Aunt Dimity’s response was swift and jubilant.
Bravo! Well done! How on earth did you manage it?

“You won’t believe it, Dimity.” I hunkered down in the tall leather armchair in the study and gave Reginald a meaningful glance. “I hit him with the hard sell, right? I told him that Cameron and Donna are dying to meet Will and Rob. I told him that New Zealand combines the tropical beauty of Hawaii with the cozy beauty of Ireland and the alpine beauty of Switzerland. I told him that the country is the same size as Colorado but that it has more coastline than the contiguous United States. I told him about the fantastic people, the untainted food, the superb wines, the pristine environment, and I threw in the bit about hiking with fantails. And do you know what finally sold him?”

“Frodo’s jacuzzi,” I said.

“Nope,” I said. “I had no idea that Bill was a rabid Tolkien fan until fireworks popped in his eyes when I mentioned
Frodo’s bathtub
. Can you believe it?”

“You can say that again,” I agreed fervently. “My husband, the Ringer. Who knew? I’m just happy that something clicked with him. I can’t wait to go back.”

“I plan to throw him the biggest housewarming party Finch has ever seen,” I said. “And I won’t have to prepare a single mouthful of food.”

“He’ll weigh three hundred pounds by next year if he’s not careful,” I said. “They’re more eager than Bill and I are for William to move in. But no one’s more excited about it than Will and Rob. They’ve already asked Grandpa if his new house will have stabling for their ponies.”

“He drove them over to show them the progress that’s been made in restoring the old stable to its former glory,” I said. “Doting doesn’t begin to describe it.”

“William is nothing if not law-abiding,” I said, laughing.

“She’s a breath of fresh air,” I said. “She seems to know instinctively who she can razz and who deserves to be treated with respect.”

“You’ve got the general idea,” I said. “She’s called for an economic summit with Fortescue Makepeace. She, unlike her great-grandaunts, wants a thorough explanation of her finances.”

“They share an interest in fashion as well,” I said. “She’ll be as impressed by his waistcoats as he will be by her body art.” I fell silent for a moment, lost in thought. “I wish Ruth and Louise were still here. They would have loved to see how well Bree’s doing. They would have adored the wedding. They would have been overjoyed to see the old Fairworth place come back to life, and to have William as a neighbor. I miss them, Dimity. I wish they were here.”

“I’ll keep my eyes open, Dimity,” I said, and as the curving lines of royal-blue ink faded from the page, the air was filled with the subtle fragrance of lavender water.

Makes 18-25 medium cookies

 

 

 

Preheat oven to 325 degrees Fahrenheit. Line two baking sheets with parchment paper.

 

1 cup rolled oats
1 cup all-purpose flour
1 cup desiccated coconut
1 cup sugar
4 teaspoons golden syrup or honey
½ cup butter
2 tablespoons boiling water
1 teaspoon baking soda

 

Place oats, flour, coconut, and sugar in a large bowl. Mix well. In a small saucepan over low heat combine the butter and the golden syrup (or honey) and heat until the butter is melted. Combine the baking soda and the boiling water and add to the butter mixture, then add the wet mixture to the dry ingredients. Mix well. Drop the dough by rounded tablespoons onto baking sheets lined with parchment paper. Bake for 12 minutes or until firm. Cool on wire racks. Munch contentedly with a nice cup of tea.