A Safe House

10

Felicity and Sir John Rowling arrived together, via her boat, and were driven to the house in a golf cart.

Stone greeted them in the library, where he and Felicity exchanged kisses. “You know Sir John Rowling, don’t you, Stone? Sir John, Stone Barrington of New York.”

“Of course,” Sir John said. “We met at the Squadron, didn’t we?”

“Must have been there,” Stone said. He had no recollection of meeting the man.

The butler filled their drink orders, and as they were sitting down, Jenna entered the room, looking smashing, Stone thought. He introduced Sir John.

They sat by the fire, the ladies with champagne, the gentlemen with whisky. The chat turned to Felicity’s work, then she remembered that Jenna was not cleared to hear any of it.

Sir John saved the day. “Jenna,” he said, looking concerned, “I believe you are an unwilling guest in our country.”

“Not unwilling, Sir John, just unexpectedly. When I was put aboard Stone’s airplane two days ago, I had no notion of my destination.”

“Did you, Stone?” he asked.

“I did know our destination, but not our guest. I was not introduced to her until we had left United States air space, at the request of Lance Cabot.”

“Well, if no one knows, no one can know, can one?”

“Quite right — or at least, I thought that was the case. But then her former husband turned up in London yesterday, looking for me.”

“How did he know you were even in this country?”

“Either there was a leak somewhere or he is a very good guesser, since he and I have never met. And I am glad to keep it that way.”

“Anything my office can do to help,” Sir John said, but it wasn’t a question, exactly.

“There is something,” Stone said.

“Pray tell, what?”

“We have already had an unexpected visit from a man I believe to be her ex-husband, accompanied by a man Jenna tells me is little more than an assassin. We suddenly found ourselves unarmed and, therefore, vulnerable.”

“Did you call the police?”

“I did, and they arrived just in time to frighten them into leaving.”

“Well, then, you’re all right.”

“Not if they return.”

“I see, and you wish to bear arms against them?”

“Not necessarily, but I would like to have that option — legally, of course.”

“I see,” Sir John said, and Stone thought he was beginning to. “And it would be helpful if I were to authorize the bearing of and the use of firearms in this house?”

“And on our persons,” Stone replied. “That would solve our problem, I think.”

“Felicity, do you concur?”

“I do, John. I believe it is the immediate and, perhaps, only solution.”

“Very well, I can do that. Permanently or for the short term?”

“Since we don’t know how short the term might be, I think permanently,” Stone replied.

Sir John took a small notebook from an inside pocket. “Long or short guns?”

“Both, if at all possible.”

“Will two of each do you?”

“I hope so.”

“Four of each might be better,” Felicity said.

“Oh, all right. I’ll see that the proper document is messengered to you tomorrow morning.”

“John,” Felicity said, “I would worry less about the situation if the document were messengered to us this evening.”

“Excuse me a moment,” he said, producing a cell phone, rising, and walking to the other end of the library, then returning. “It should arrive in time for cheese,” he said. “Certainly, for dessert.”

“Oh, John,” Felicity gushed. “I feel ever so much better for the safety of our guests.”

“These things have to be done, at times,” Sir John replied.

They dined on a venison stew with a stout burgundy. During the service of port and Stilton, the butler entered with an envelope. “For Sir John,” he said, handing it over. “Will there be a reply?”

Sir John removed a document and read it. “Looks very official, doesn’t it?” he said, handing it to Felicity for her perusal.

“It’s perfect,” she said.

Sir John handed it to Stone. “Oh, will you seal it, please, Sir John?” Stone took a stick of sealing wax from a nearby table and waved it over a candle, dripping wax onto the document and handing it to Sir John, who pressed his signet ring into the wax.

“You may take that into the shop of any firearms dealer and receive service,” Sir John said.

“I’m very grateful, Sir John, and I will sleep better tonight,” Stone said.

Felicity took leave of them momentarily to make a phone call, then sat down and resumed drinking her port.

They passed a convivial evening, then, as the guests were leaving, Felicity whispered to Stone, “Look under your staircase,” she said, then kissed him on the lips and followed Sir John to the cart.

Stone waved them off, closed the door, and leaned against it. “I have instructions to look under the staircase,” he said. He opened the cupboard door there and found two 12-gauge riot guns and a box with two semiautomatic pistols and another box with ammunition.

They went to bed armed and slept soundly.