Aunt Dimity and the Family Tree by Nancy Atherton Page A

will be at home all day, Lori. Come whenever you like.”
    “Most kind.” Willis, Sr., nodded genially to Grant, then addressed the group at large. “If you will excuse me, I will attempt to lure my energetic grandsons from their playful pursuits. We would not want to be late for the excellent luncheon Mrs. Donovan is preparing for us.”
    “We certainly wouldn’t,” I chimed in, though it was the first I’d heard of Deirdre Donovan’s excellent luncheon.
    Willis, Sr., strolled toward Will and Rob and the churchyard scrum began to break up. Rainey scurried back to the tearoom, Lilian headed for the vicarage, and Bree Pym sailed past me, calling a cheery “Bye, aunties!” to the late Ruth and Louise Pym. The others, as if satiated by the juicy tidbits Willis, Sr., and I had tossed their way, peeled off in twos and threes until only the Taxmans and the Handmaidens remained.
    “Did you hear what William said?” Peggy growled, fixing her gimlet gaze on each of the Handmaidens in turn. “Stop pestering the poor man! He has important work to do!”
    “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean,” said Millicent, blushing.
    “I’ve never been one to intrude,” said Opal, bristling.
    “Nor have I!” Elspeth exclaimed.
    “Judge not,” Selena intoned, staring hard at Peggy, “lest ye be judged.”
    The four women tossed their heads contemptuously, passed in single file through the lych-gate, and marched across the lane to their cottages.
    “Thanks, Peggy,” I said, after they’d gone. “They might have ignored William, but they’ll listen to you.”
    She regarded me shrewdly through her pointy glasses. “William’s anonymous client wouldn’t be from Mexico, would he?”
    I doubted that Rainey could have withstood such a brazen frontal assault, but I was made of sterner stuff. Though I flinched inwardly, I laughed out loud.
    “Mexico?” I said, chuckling merrily. “You’ve got Mexico on the brain, Peggy. If I hadn’t promised to keep mum about William’s client, I’d tell you where he comes from. As it is, I can’t even tell you that he’s not from Mexico.”
    “Humph,” Peggy grunted. She flicked an imperious finger toward her husband. “Come along, Jasper. The Emporium won’t open itself.”
    I smiled grimly as the Taxmans made their way out of the churchyard, up the lane, and across the village green to their general store. It seemed to me that the first phase of Aunt Dimity’s scheme had gone fairly well. Everyone but Peggy appeared to believe in Sally’s fabricated illness and in Willis, Sr.’s nonexistent client, and Peggy didn’t scare me. If Lilian and Bree could stand up to her, so could I.
    With the disinformation campaign firmly under way, I told myself, it was time to move on to phase two. A phone call after lunch would bring Sally and Rainey into the loop. Then the smuggling operation would begin.
    I called my menfolk to me and strode through the lych-gate with a militant swagger. Peggy’s bullying tactics had gotten my dander up. I was bound and determined to make Aunt Dimity’s plan succeed, if only for the pleasure of outfoxing the uncrowned empress of Finch.

Seven
    After what was an indisputably excellent luncheon of exquisitely grilled dover sole, a goat cheese and heirloom tomato salad, glazed baby carrots, and a luscious raspberry compote, my family and I went our separate ways. Bill and his father took the boys off to explore a heavily wooded corner of the estate while I closeted myself in Willis, Sr.’s study and telephoned Sally Pyne.
    Sally was so pathetically grateful to me for offering her a way out of her predicament that she could scarcely take in a word I said. To be on the safe side, I explained the plot all over again to Rainey, who promised to pack what she called “Gran’s Lady Sarah clothes” and to have her grandmother ready to leave the tearoom at three o’clock.
    I was still seated at the walnut desk, rubbing life back into my phone-numbed ear, when