Change of Address by Kate Dolan Page B

furniture now that we have
some,” Amanda said with a sweet smile, urging his father to sit in a leather
armchair across from the settee where she resumed her seat.
    Charlie checked himself just before he made the mistake of
joining her. The intimacy of last night could not be repeated here, at least
not in front of his father. He sat in the only remaining chair, a monstrous
straight-backed affair that had apparently been designed by an interrogator
with the Spanish Inquisition. “Remind me to have another chair sent down,” he
said to Amanda as he shifted uncomfortably on the hard seat.
    “Of course,” she smiled.
    Unfortunately, the smile did not have the same effect on his
father as it did on him, since his father was able to answer it with a frown.
“This is a matter of some delicacy, Miss Castling. May I beg a moment of
privacy with my son?”
    “That will not be necessary,” Charlie answered quickly.
“Miss Castling is fully apprised of all the matters at hand and we need keep no
secrets from her.”
    “Am I to have no say in my own affair of honor?”
    “In a manner of speaking, no.”
    “No? By what right do you—”
    Charlie held up his hand to interrupt. “As your second, it
was my duty to bring the matter to an honorable conclusion and since I have
done so, you may consider the affair at an end.”
    The old man’s forehead wrinkled in confusion. “Did I make
you my second?”
    “You may have forgotten, in all the excitement.”
    “Yes,” he sniffed, “well, what then was this honorable
conclusion you speak of? Did the man retract his falsehoods and issue a full
apology?”
    “No, he fled in disgrace to avoid charges of housebreaking,
burglary, assault, battery and breach of the peace.”
    His father considered for a moment. “I suppose that was the
best to be expected, under the circumstances.” He let out a long, slow breath.
“I was afraid you were going to tell me you’d paid the man off. Then he’d just
be back again, nosing at us for more money.”
    “He wouldn’t take money, actually. I tried that at the
first.”
    “Charlie,” his father admonished.
    “Fortunately, my first instinct was thwarted, but all’s well
now.” He stood and cleared his throat, well aware that Puckett could come down
the stairs and disprove his tidy explanation at any moment. “Should we not all
be preparing for church and so forth?” He nodded toward the door. “We may
continue our discussion with our neighbor over Christmas dinner.”
    His father made no move to get up. “I suppose, but really,
this was not expected. Robin said the man was still here, sleeping off his
drink.”
    And he was, too, so how to refute that? “He, uh, took
such fright at the thought of trouble with the magistrate—not the first time
with him, I think—that he bolted right out the side window. Robin must not have
seen him.” Charlie nodded toward the broken window on the far side of the room.
“We closed up the shutters afterward, of course, to keep out the chill.”
    “Yes, I see…” He leaned forward squinting at the shuttered
window, but made no move to examine it more closely. Instead, he pointed his
walking stick toward the door. “Well, it is a surprise, but I cannot pretend it
is an unpleasant one, so yes, I agree we should make ourselves presentable to
celebrate the Nativity and allow Miss Castling to do the same.” He stood and
made his way toward the door, but paused before stepping out.
    “You know,” he said in a softer voice as he turned to face
them, “it is really the answer to an unspoken prayer of sorts. I was just so
angry, you see, and now, well, I am no longer. The fellow seems to have got his
just desserts and we’ll have no more trouble from him, I think, for he’ll be
known as a felon and a coward for refusing to face me.”
    “Yes. Yes of course.” Charlie waved toward the door. “You
may go ahead of me and I shall ride my own mount back. I need to leave a few
instructions with