Geoffrey, the butler, had left a selection of wines for their dinner; Stone chose one and uncorked it, then decanted it to rid the wine of its sediment. They had a drink before the fire while the wine took a breath.

“It’s another world,” Gala said, looking around, “and one without Boris in it.”

“The best kind.”

Dinner was served, and they enjoyed themselves.

—

The following morning, after a perfect night’s sleep, Stone decided that they should attend the grand opening of the Rome Arrington, a few days hence. At noon he called Pat Frank, who ran the aircraft management service that took care of his airplane, and asked her to have his Citation CJ3 Plus flown to his home in England.

“I can arrange that,” Pat said. “How soon do you need it?”

“A couple of days will be okay, but do something else for me, please.”

“Sure.”

“Have my tail number blocked from the various flight-tracking services.”

“Is someone too interested in your movements?”

“That is the case.”

“I’d better get on that now, then, it takes a day or two to get it done.”

“Tell your pilot he’ll be driven to Heathrow for his flight home.”

“Will do. Anything else?”

“Not at the moment.” They both hung up.

“That was easy,” Gala said.

“Everything is easier when you’re organized.”

Stone looked out the window at the sky. “The forecast is good for today. How would you like a ride and a picnic lunch?”

“Sounds perfect.”

—

The horses were brought from the stables, and they cantered across the estate, jumped a stone wall, and were on the property next door. “That’s our Arrington country hotel,” Stone said, pointing at the larger house as they rode past. “The two properties together run to something over five hundred acres.”

“What a nice neighbor to have.”

They rode along the Beaulieu River, which was at flood tide, and found a spot for lunch in the shade of some trees. The horses nibbled at the grass while they spread a blanket and unpacked their lunch. Stone opened a bottle of cold Chardonnay, and they lunched on smoked salmon sandwiches and a salad.

“Two days ago we were in the high desert of Santa Fe,” she said, “and suddenly, we’re in England, picnicking.”

“A miracle of modern-day air travel.”

“A miracle of some sort. I feel safe for the first time since my divorce was final. I don’t think I had realized the extent to which Boris was eating at my sense of well-being. I confess to you that I considered shooting him once. My sister, Susannah, dealt with an ex-husband that way.”

“Do you remember what a hassle that was for her, and especially for Ed, who had to deal with the legal consequences?”

“I remember, and she told me it was worth it to be rid of him.”