“At Champion Farms,” she said.

“I wasn’t aware there was a suitable house on the property.”

“There isn’t, but there used to be. It was contemporaneous with Thomas Jefferson’s Monticello, but it was destroyed by fire in the 1920s. A researcher has been able to find the original plans in the Charlottesville library—no one even knew they were there. So, I’m going to re-create the place on the original spot. It’s wildly overgrown, but there are beautiful trees, including a neglected colonnade of old oaks to the house. I’ll replace the damaged and fallen trees.”

“That sounds wonderful.”

“It’s going to take all my time for the next two years, and then I’ll be looking for another project to keep me busy. I’ve learned that I’m dangerous when I’m not busy.”

Stone laughed. “I can imagine.”

“There’s something else: I want to talk to you about Peter.”

“All right, perhaps it’s time you did.”

“Peter is fifteen, and he’s at Episcopal High School, in Alexandria ; it’s the best prep school in the South, on a level with the best New England preps. He is very, very bright, and he’s a grade ahead. He’s also very handsome, and tall for his age.” She retrieved a photograph from her purse and handed it to Stone. “For you.”

Stone stared at the boy—young man, really—and sighed. “He looks extraordinarily like my father.”

“I remember that photograph in your house,” she said. “Anyway, the school was reluctant to accept him at first, but then three of the senior faculty had a long lunch with him—I wasn’t present—and they were impressed with his maturity and seriousness, so they accepted him as a boarding student in the ninth grade. From what they’ve said about him so far, he’ll probably graduate in three years, maybe even two.”

“That’s breathtaking,” Stone said.

“I’m sure you were bright, too, Stone,” she said. “God knows he didn’t get it from me.”

“Now, now.”

Arrington reached into the large handbag resting next to her chair and handed Stone a thick envelope. “This is my will and the trust I set up for Peter. I’d like you and the people at Woodman & Weld to look it over and redraw it. My beneficiaries haven’t changed, but I’ll be interested to see if you think the trust needs work.”

“Of course,” Stone said. “We’ll do that as a courtesy.”

“You’ll never make any money that way, Stone.”

“We’ll do all right.”

“You’ll see that I’ve appointed you Peter’s trustee. I didn’t tell you, because, I suppose, I felt invulnerable, but recently I had a brush with ovarian cancer. They caught it early, but I had to have my ovaries out, and now I’m on hormones. If I get sick again, I’ll give you as much notice as I can, but you could, possibly, find yourself being a father to your son.”

“That would be an honor,” Stone said.