Page 44 of Easton Island

“He and Mr. Pickles are friends. In fact, I left Chester home this morning to keep him company.”

Tristan clapped his hands. “Can I come see Mr. Pickles?”

“Absolutely.”

“I love rabbits,” Prissy said. “They’re very intelligent not to mention loving.”

“I’ll bring him by so you can meet him after he settles in,” Morgan promised.

Prissy became preoccupied and began humming under her breath. Using her knife, she sliced off a large pat of butter from the dish and ate it.

Quinn gently removed the knife from her hand. “Would you like a piece of toast to go with your butter?”

“No, butter is fine.”

An awkward silence ensued as Prissy continued humming. She picked up her fork, stabbed a strawberry, and nibbled the corner.

“It’s getting late.” Quinn ate the last bite of bacon and placed her napkin next to her plate. “I need to head to the art gallery.”

Brett followed suit. “I’ll walk you out.”

“Thank you for inviting me to breakfast. Everything was delicious.” Quinn patted Tristan’s shoulder. “Congratulations on the ribbon. I’m sorry I missed the science fair.”

“It’s okay,” the boy said. “Maybe next time.”

“Absolutely.”

“Goodbye, Quinn.” Prissy gave her an enthusiastic wave. “Thanks for coming to my party.”

“You’re welcome.”

“I should get back to work,” Ben said. “Unless you need me to help with…”

“Thank you for the offer,” Elizabeth said. “We’ll handle it.”

Greg awkwardly shook his host’s hand. “Thank you for inviting me to the breakfast celebration.”

“I’m glad you could make it, Greg. Tristan speaks highly of you. I appreciate your kindness toward my great-grandson.”

“You’re welcome.”

The kitchen staff appeared and began clearing the dishes.

Prissy watched them circle the table.

A young worker, an employee who had recently been hired to help Mrs. Arnsby, reached for her plate.

“Stop!” Prissy hollered loudly. “She’s stealing my food!”

“Priscilla.” Elizabeth’s voice was steady but firm. “Ally is not stealing your food. She’s clearing the table.”

The poor woman, mortified at being accused, shrank back. “You can keep your plate.”

Prissy stuck her arm around the dish, as if daring the woman to take it from her.

“It’s all right.” Mrs. Arnsby nudged Ally out of the dining room. “We’ll clean up after everyone has gone.”

Morgan firmly grasped Prissy’s hand and set it in her lap. “No one is taking your food.”