“Wonderful! Winthrop will be so proud.”

Hannah’s mind did a quick backstep. “You mean Winthrop’s family has something to do with the cake knife?”

“No, it’s just that it’s old English, and Winthrop reveres things that are old English.”

“Right,” Hannah said, wondering why, if that were true, Winthrop wasn’t involved with the duchess of someplace-or-other, rather than her mother.

“So do you think we could leave soon, dear? I know what Ricky Ticky said,” Delores used the nickname she’d given Mayor Bascomb the summer she’d been his babysitter, “but it’s not really that serious, is it?”

“It’s that serious.”

“You mean …they won’t even let us go home?”

Hannah shook her head. And all the while she was asking herself, Where’s home? Would that be Mother’s place? Or Winthrop’s? “You can’t leave, Mother. I’d really worry if you did.”

“You would?” Delores looked pleased.

“Oh, yes,” Hannah gave her heartfelt response. Of course she’d worry, but not about the blizzard. She’d be worrying about Winthrop.

“Well … I guess we’ll just stay then. Winthrop said he wanted to taste Lady Hermoine’s cake. And perhaps we can get Kirby to play something a little more upbeat for dancing.”

Lisa waited until Delores was far enough away and then she turned to Hannah. “So … ? Should I tell Herb to start heating up the tar? And do you want me to start plucking birds for feathers?”

“Not quite yet. I’m tempted, but he could be exactly what he says he is, an English lord on vacation.”

“But you don’t think he is.”

“No. But I’m naturally protective when it comes to my mother. And I’m naturally paranoid by nature. So … Winthrop could be okay, but I’ll be the farm that he isn’t.”

<11>

“Just a second, Hannah!”

Hannah tuned to see Martin Dubinski rushing up to her. She started to smile politely, but then thought better of it. If Mike had informed him of Brandi’s death, it wouldn’t be appropriate to smile. On the other hand, if Mike hadn’t told him, Hannah didn’t want to alert Martin that anything was wrong. Hannah settled for what she hoped was a pleasant and totally inexpressive expression, the same one worn by the teddy bear she’d lugged around as a child.

“I’m so glad I found you,” Martin said, smiling broadly. “I didn’t want to say anything in front of Brandi, but thank you for putting Shirley’s cake in the cookbook. It was her mother’s favorite recipe, and she passed it on to Shirley.”

“It’s a good cake,” Hannah said, taking note of Martin’s smile. If he was smiling, Mike hadn’t gotten to him yet, and it was appropriate to smile back.

“Have you seen Brandi?”

The smile Hannah had just decided to wear slipped alarmingly before she could stop it. Of course she’d seen Brandi, but she’d rather not remember that. And she didn’t want to say she’d even seen Brandi until Mike had spoken with the husband of the dearly departed.