All demurred.
Walter shook his head slightly. “Sister, we both lose our bet. Both wrong. You thought the thieves would be part of the show world and I thought they’d be part of the art world, dealers, museums. Well, we saved money.”
She laughed. “That’s one way to look at it.”
CHAPTER 38
March 16, 2020 Monday
Still cool, the rain had stopped, clouds scattered. Golly reposed in her bed as did the two dogs, while Sister cracked eggs into a mixing bowl. This morning, rain free, called for her famous omelet as well as bacon. As she was whisking eggs with a little milk in the bowl, Gray walked in.
“Coffee this morning or tea?” he asked.
“Tea, Irish Breakfast. It’s in the green tin.”
They focused on their respective chores, then Gray said, “St. Patrick’s Day parade canceled. Happened days ago but no time to take notice and now St. Patrick’s Day is almost upon us.”
“We can wear green tomorrow.”
“Yes, we can.” He smiled then trotted upstairs to the bedroom to his closet, where he pulled out a long thin box, beautifully wrapped in hunt-club colors, dark green with a gold ribbon.
He came back down, placed the box on the table.
“That’s pretty.”
“How about you open it after breakfast.”
“Aha. The wrapping is green. Is it an early St. Patrick’s Day gift?”
“You’ll have to wait and see.”
They ate those fluffy omelets, biscuits with Irish butter.
While the dogs would prefer meat to omelets, that didn’t mean they wouldn’t beg. Golly, on the other hand, waited for bacon. She knew she’d get a piece and each dog also got a piece of bacon, for Sister had made a lot of it.
After polishing off the last piece of bacon…Gray nabbed it…Sister carried the plates to the sink.
“I’ll do the dishes,” Gray volunteered.
“We can share. I’ll scrape and you wash.”
“Come here and open your present,” he urged her.
She sat down and, per usual, painstakingly opened the paper, folding it for future use, as well as saving the lovely gauze ribbon. She lifted up the box top.
“How fabulous.” She took out a leather-wrapped crop, a stag handle exactly the right size, a thong and cracker. “The collars are gold. Oh, initials.”
He read them out loud. “N. L. A.”
She looked over at him. “And?”
“Nancy Langhorne Astor.”
“Gray. It’s sensational. However did you find this?”
“My secret, but she was a neighbor, almost, over there at Mirador. Born in 1879. We missed her by a few years.” He smiled.
Sister ran her hands over the crop. “What a thoughtful gift.”
“It’s a bribe.” He reached for her hand. “I can’t wait for the next Sadie Hawkins Day to be married to you, so I am asking you now. Will you marry me?”
She held his hand, leaned over to kiss him. “You are the kindest, smartest, handsomest of men. I will marry you and hope I make it to one hundred.”
He stood up, walked behind her to wrap his arms around her. “Thank God we weren’t killed. Made me think how much I love you. I don’t know why I didn’t ask before. It seemed unnecessary, but after almost being murdered, I want you as my wife.”
“At least you know what you’re getting into.” She laughed then quietly said, “We were lucky Saturday. Very lucky.”
“Given this virus, I have no idea when we can have a ceremony but I would like something small, something so Aunt Daniella can come as well as our best friends, celebrate with people we love. We’ve both been around long enough to know, well, a lot.”
She stood up, faced him, hugged him, and put her cheek next to his. “The until-death-do-us-part part is closer.”
He hugged her more tightly. “One can die at any age. But now we truly know it, so I say let’s make the most of every minute. Oh, I have one more present.”
“You’re spoiling me.”
“Men are supposed to spoil women. Once the weather permits, the drive out to the paved road will be lined with pink and white alternating dogwoods. One pink. One white. You love color. So there.”
“I’ll have to think of something for you. Those are two extraordinary presents.”
“You’re my present.” He kissed her again, then said, “Strange, isn’t it, that we need death to teach us about life.”
“I’ve never felt so alive or so young.” She kissed him again, marveling at how things change in the blinking of an eye.
You never know.
AFTERWORD
The paintings herein stolen are not owned by my fictional characters. I claimed a fiction writer’s liberty.
Perhaps you’ll be motivated to seek the works out or look at as many Munnings’s paintings as you can. He was one of England’s greatest painters.
We are currently in the midst of a flowering of equine art in the United States. Art, like hemlines, goes in and out of fashion. Equine art and the requisite good draftsmanship are out of fashion. A regiment of gifted artists can barely scrape out a living, with few exceptions. My prayer is this changes and my fellow country people will soon appreciate these remarkable artists.
This novel was written in real time. I thought, fool that I am, well, this will be fun, as I’ll be perfect on the weather, which is important for the Sister Janes. Halfway through, clear about plot, bam, the coronavirus knocked me sideways, as such a global phenomenon will affect my characters. How could I ignore it? So I did the only thing possible. I took it day by day, changed things, and implored the gods for help for all.
May you be well.
We’ll get through this.
Up and over,
Rita Mae
Dear Reader,
I wish for you incendiary passion, whatever it may be. Otherwise you will slide into the abyss of middle-class tedium. Even if you are poor as a church mouse, and I have been, you live a life of inner richness.
Allow me to acknowledge your life. As to your passions, your laughter, your loves: Do it now. You’ll be dead a long time.
Dedicated to
Professor Francis McGovern
An extraordinary man and a kind one.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
As always, Marion Maggiolo gives me ideas. Every time I visit Horse Country I walk out with a new thought as well as something beautiful. This time she suggested I investigate Belle Baruch. As Munnings had painted her in 1932, I began to focus on his lady subjects.
The Virginia Museum of Fine Arts has a spectacular Munnings, which set me off on seeing as many as I could.
For many years I have been indebted to the National Sporting Library & Museum, established in Middleburg, Virginia, in 1954. I’ve learned so much over the decades and can never see it or the Museum of Hounds & Hunting enough. I’m tempted to bring a sleeping bag and hide out.
The South overflows with a wealth of art galleries offering outdoor sporting art. The problem there is, you’ll want everything for sale. Again, you can learn a great deal. The proprietors usually forgive you and happily talk about the art, even knowing you’ll leave empty-handed. It’s a passion and therefore not subject to hag-ridden reason.
If I have neglected to thank anyone who helped, forgive me. Having to re-think the last quarter of the book due to the crisis prevented me from keeping good notes regarding research.
The Sister Jane series
Outfoxed
Hotspur
Full Cry
The Hunt Ball
The Hounds and the Fury
The Tell-Tale Horse
Hounded to Death
Fox Tracks
Let Sleeping Dogs Lie
Crazy Like a Fox
Homeward Hound
Scarlet Fever
Out of Hounds
Books by Rita Mae Brown with Sneaky Pie Brown
Wish You Were Here
Rest in Pieces
Murder at Monticello
Pay Dirt
Murder, She Meowed
Murder on the Prowl
Cat on the Scent
Sneaky Pie’s Cookbook for Mystery Lovers
Pawing Through the Past
Claws and Effect
Catch as Cat Can
The Tail of the Tip-Off
Whisker of Evil
Cat’s Eyewitness
Sour Puss
Puss ’n Cahoots
The Purrfect Murder
Santa Clawed
Cat of the Century
Hiss of Death
The Big Cat Nap
Sneaky Pie for President
The Litter of the Law
Nine Lives to Die
Tail Gate
Tall Tail
A Hiss Before Dying
Probable Claws
Whiskers in the Dark
Furmidable Foes
The Nevada series
A Nose for Justice
Murder Unleashed
Books by Rita Mae Brown
Animal Magnetism: My Life with Creatures Great and Small
The Hand That Cradles the Rock
Songs to a Handsome Woman
The Plain Brown Rapper
Rubyfruit Jungle
In Her Day
Six of One
Southern Discomfort
Sudden Death
High Hearts
Started from Scratch: A Different Kind of Writer’s Manual
Bingo
Venus Envy
Dolley: A Novel of Dolley Madison in Love and War
Riding Shotgun
Rita Will: Memoir of a Literary Rabble-Rouser
Loose Lips
Alma Mater
The Sand Castle
Cakewalk
PHOTO: © MARY MOTLEY KALERGIS
Rita Mae Brown is the bestselling author of the Sneaky Pie Brown series; the Sister Jane series; the Runnymede novels, including Six of One and Cakewalk; A Nose for Justice and Murder Unleashed; Rubyfruit Jungle; In Her Day; and many other books. An Emmy-nominated screenwriter and poet, Brown lives in Afton, Virginia, and is a Master of Foxhounds.
ritamaebrownbooks.com
To inquire about booking Rita Mae Brown for a speaking engagement, please contact the Penguin Random House Speakers Bureau at [email protected].
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Out of Hounds Page 27