Aunt Dimity and the Buried Treasure by Nancy Atherton Page A

really compare to the survival of civilization.”
    There’s nothing trivial about nappy rash, Lori. If I’d had children, my small talk would have mimicked yours. Since I didn’t, I could turn my thoughts in other directions.
    â€œDid you tell Badger about your inheritance?” I asked.
    Yes, but I didn’t tell him about Bobby. Had I mentioned Bobby’s death, I would have broken the bargain I’d made with Badger, so I said only that I’dcome into an unexpected inheritance and that the dearest wish of my heart was to use it in a meaningful way. Badger suggested that I invest it. If I invested it wisely, he said, I would be able to fund a charity that would, with luck, continue well into the future. I told him that I knew nothing about investments. He challenged me to educate myself.
    â€œAnd you took up the challenge,” I said.
    I couldn’t resist it. I threw myself into learning everything I could about finance and I discovered, much to my surprise, that I had a knack for investments. Eventually, I created the Westwood Trust. I’d hoped to call it the Robert MacLaren Memorial Trust, but Bobby’s family wished to reserve the name for a scholarship they had created.
    â€œBadger must have been proud of you,” I said.
    I don’t know whether he was proud of me or not. Badger was no longer part of my life by then.
    â€œWhat went wrong?” I asked.
    Toward the end of those three magical months, during one of my long walks through London, I saw a cuddly toy in a street market. It was a badger, and although it was somewhat bedraggled, I bought it and brought it to the café. I presented it to Badger as a silly gift, a small token of my gratitude for the many wonderful hours we’d spent together. The next day he presented me with the garnet bracelet and a passionate declaration of love.
    â€œOh, dear,” I murmured.
    I gave him a trifle, and he gave me his heart. I was stunned.
    â€œYou didn’t see it coming?” I asked.
    I didn’t suspect for one moment that Badger felt anything for me but a playful sort of brotherly love. If I’d seen it coming, I would have done everything in my power to avert it. Unfortunately, I was having too much fun to be on the alert for signs of serious affection.
    â€œYou’d spent the entire war being alert,” I said. “You can’t blameyourself for letting your guard down with Badger. You’d earned the right to kick back and enjoy yourself.”
    I hadn’t earned the right to hurt Badger. He’d changed my life for the better in more ways than I can count, but when he declared his love for me, I could do nothing but gape at him like an addled goldfish. He must have read rejection in my eyes, however, because he thrust the bracelet into my hands and left the café without another word. I’ll never forget the look on his face as he left.
    â€œWas he angry with you?” I asked.
    Worse. He was angry with himself. He was ashamed of himself for daring to hope that he could ever be as dear to me as I was to him. It was as if he believed that he was unworthy of me. I would have told him how wrong he was, but I didn’t have the chance. I never saw him again.
    â€œNever?” I said.
    I haunted the café for several weeks, but he never, to my knowledge, returned to it. I asked the other customers, the regulars, if they knew where he lived, but they had no idea. Mr. Hanover—the café’s owner—didn’t know, either. Before we’d met, Badger had rarely spoken to anyone, preferring instead to bury his head in a book while he drank his tea.
    â€œWhy did you want to know where he lived?” I asked. “You didn’t intend to chase after him, did you? Wouldn’t it have been kinder to let him go?”
    Would it have been kinder to let him go, believing that he’d offended me? That his tenderest feelings had repulsed me? That he wasn’t