‘Quite the little old busybody, aren’t you? I can’t feel your presence is helpful at the moment, and I must ask you to leave the family to grieve in peace.’ Ellie blinked. Little old busybody? Those words hurt, as they were designed to do. In the old days, Ellie might have burst into tears at being attacked in such terms, or slunk out of the room, apologizing for her very existence. Well, she supposed she was both ‘little’ and ‘a busybody’. But, by invitation, which made all the difference. Didn’t it? So, instead of running away, she took a chair at the table and tried to work out why he’d been so rude. Did she threaten him personally? She looked him over. No wedding ring. A signet ring on his little finger. A man whose tie was knotted ‘just so’. Perhaps a little pernickety? A professional man. An accountant? Clemmie had said he’d been brought in to conduct an overview of the business. That sounded feasible. And now, with Poppy’s removal from the scene, The Magpie would undoubtedly have to take on someone else to manage that side of the business and, perhaps, appoint another person in the office?
