Page 43 of Easton Island

“Elizabeth met with the staff to let them know what was going on. I’m not sure if there have been other incidents.” Ben placed a light hand on Greg’s shoulder. “We had better head to the dining room. Elizabeth is a stickler for punctuality.”

Taking a shortcut through the front yard, they strolled through the main foyer and made a beeline for the formal dining room where they found Elizabeth, her husband Gerard, Brett, Quinn, Tristan, and Prissy already seated at the table.

Mrs. Arnsby steered a serving cart into the room. “I see everyone is right on time.”

Morgan took her spot to the left of her grandmother and next to Prissy. Greg sat sandwiched between his uncle and Tristan in what the family dubbed the “guest of honor” chair.

She felt a light tug on her arm. “What are we doing?” Prissy whispered.

“Eating breakfast,” Morgan whispered back. “I like your dress.”

The woman plucked at the floral printed sleeve. “Thank you. I have no idea where I got it.”

“That’s okay. I have a lot of clothes in my closet that I couldn’t tell you where I bought them.”

Mrs. Arnsby and a small army of kitchen staff made their way around the table, serving scrambled, poached and fried eggs, stacks of pancakes, to which Tristan promptly took a plateful, along with hashbrowns, and crispy slices of bacon. If all of this wasn’t enough, a tray of donuts and baked treats made its rounds. There was so much food that Morgan could almost feel the pounds packing on.

“You have outdone yourself, Jane,” Elizabeth said. “The food looks fabulous.”

“Thank you,” Mrs. Arnsby beamed. “It’s not every day Tristan receives an award, and we welcome a new member to the Easton Estate household.”

Elizabeth waited for the cook to take her seat and lifted her glass of orange juice. “I propose a toast.”

Morgan lifted her glass, as did the others.

“To our talented youngest family member, Tristan. Congratulations on receiving a coveted science fair ribbon, well-earned for all your hard work.”

“Here, here,” the others echoed in unison before sipping their orange juice.

“We have one more toast,” Elizabeth continued. “To our newest Easton Estate resident, Prissy. May you thrive, flourish, and continue to enjoy many happy years here at home on Easton Island.”

“To Prissy,” Gerard said.

The guests clinked glasses and sipped their celebratory juice before digging into the savory dishes. While they ate, Elizabeth kept the conversation light, pointedly drawing Prissy into it several times.

Morgan secretly suspected her grandmother was gauging her sister-in-law’s cognitive level, how “present” she was as well as her comfort after being moved from her home to new surroundings.

Prissy answered most of the questions with a simple yes or no.

“Ben mentioned he found you wandering around outside in your pajamas last night.”

Prissy’s jaw dropped, a look of horror on her face. “I did not,” she indignantly replied.

“You don’t remember going outside?”

“Why would I?”

“Perhaps you got confused or planned to drive home,” Elizabeth said.

Prissy’s face turned red, and the senior Easton wisely dropped it.

“I have some news,” Morgan announced. “I have a houseguest.”

“Someone is staying at Looking Glass Cottage?” Quinn asked.

“Mr. Pickles, Beatrice Bixby’s bunny.” Morgan explained how she’d offered to care for the rabbit after finding out her neighbor had no one to watch him during her surgery and while she was healing.

“What a sweet thing for you to do,” Mrs. Arnsby said. “How is Chester handling it?”