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narrowing his gray eyes at Mitch. “Did she tell you that her father was the U.S. ambassador to Japan during the Carter Administration? That her grandfather, Harrison, was a U.S. senator from the state of Connecticut from 1948 until 1960? That her great-grandfather was chief justice of the state supreme court? That her great-great-great grandfather was a vice president of the United States under Benjamin Harrison?”
    “Why, no. She didn’t.”
    “My own family has been here since the early seventeen-hundreds,” Bud pointed out loftily. “The Havenhursts came here to fell the white oaks. Milled them for barrels and boats and sent them back to England, where lumber was scarce. As the colonies grew, the Connecticut River became a major shipping artery. Dorset grew into a bustling port. General Washington slept here en route to New York after taking command of the American Army in April of 1776. And that’s no joke. Lafayette marched through here with his troops. His men slept out on Peck’s Point before they were ferried across the river.” Bud got up out of his chair and went over to the window and looked out at the carefully preserved mansions lining Dorset Street. “Nowadays, this is a place for people who want to live somewhere lovely and quiet. Somewhere that isn’t as trendy and touristy as Newport or the Hamptons. I happen to serve as town counsel. I’ve fought hard to preserve Dorset’s small-town flavor. And, believe me, it has been a fight. We’ve had to keep out the condo developers, the hamburger franchises, drive-through windows, motels … Every day there’s a new fight. And every day we take it on—because Dorset is a gem. And we want to keep it that way.” Now he turned away from the window and stared down his long narrow nose at Mitch. “Dolly Seymour is a gem, too. And she’s on her own now. And I don’t want to see anyone take advantage of her.”
    “I gather that her husband left her,” Mitch said.
    “It was quite a blow to her,” Bud confirmed. “She loved Niles. But nice ladies don’t always have great taste in men, do they? It didn’t last long—three years. It was a second marriage for her. Her first lasted twenty-four years. It was a good marriage to a local fellow from a good family— me , as it happens.” He glanced at Mitch sharply. “I imagine you think it’s odd that I represent my ex-wife’s legal affairs.”
    Downright weird, actually. Also none of his business. “No, not at all.”
    “I’ve remarried myself,” Bud explained, sitting back down. “Quite happily. Mandy and I live out on Big Sister, as a matter of fact. I took over the guest cottage as part of our divorce settlement. My mother lived there for the last ten years of her life and Dolly knew how attached I was to the place. We’re still good friends. I’m like another brother to her. Hell, we started going around together when we were thirteen years old …” A fond glow came over his face now. “We used to call her Peanut in those days. She was the cutest little thing you ever saw. And I got her. I was the lucky one. And I still care for her. The feelings, they don’t end just because the marriage ends.”
    “No, they don’t.”
    “Actually, we’re all family out on Big Sister. Evan, our son, lives in the old lighthouse-keeper’s cottage with his friend Jamie. The two of them have an antique store up in Hadlyme. And the big summer cottage belongs to Dolly’s brother Redfield and his wife, Bitsy. We’re not used to having strangers out there. That’s why I’d rather she had rented the carriage house to someone we know. But she accepted your deposit and your references check out, so here we are …”
    “Yes, here we are.” Mitch reached for a pen.
    Bud hesitated, glancing uncertainly down at the lease on his desk. “Unless, that is, you wish to reconsider. Dolly would gladly refund your deposit.”
    “Not a chance.” Mitch signed it with a happy flourish. He didn’t give a damn