“This may be overstepping my bounds, but,” Ethan kneaded the putty of his forehead with his thick fingers, “is it true that this house is actually Blueberry's property?”
“Absolutely not!” Gravor shouted a second before remembering what he had told Vera about Blueberry's mislaid inheritance. “Not exactly.”
“Alright, we don't need to make that our business unless you tell us so.” Ethan Lilly put his hands on his knees as if to rise but froze in that posture. He looked up at the ceiling and addressed the rafters. “I don't even want to dignify this with a question,” he sighed. “Are we really to believe that, after all these years, Blueberry, the most dogged scoundrel this town has ever seen,” Beezy's heart fluttered, “and I mean no undue offense,”
“That's alright,” Blueberry said.
“...is actually a nobleman?”
Now Gravor was truly adrift. His story clearly had unanticipated implications. “Can someone possibly be a nobleman if he doesn't own land?” he philosophized.
“A baron-in-exile, perhaps?”
“I'm afraid I have no idea. His side of our family is all but completely unknown. If Blueberry has noble blood, he would be the only one to know it.”
Beezy lit up. “He has a birthmark!” she offered.
Excepting a slight wince, Ethan showed no sign of having heard her. “Thank you, Gravor,” he said. “I suppose for practical purposes that's all we need to know right now.” He rose to his feet, and the men stretched and slapped their tan, short-brimmed caps against their thighs. With downcast eyes, they shuffled toward the door. “Timothy,” Ethan addressed the tall, red-haired youth, “would you mind staying back and taking a full report of Miss Beezy's attack.” The boy gave a succinct nod.
“Attack?” Gravor exploded.
“Oh, I'm alright,” Beezy said. “Just had a scare on my afternoon walk.”
Gravor cocked his head. “Oh, You were attacked. Thank goodness.” He followed Ethan and his men to the door.
As Ethan was about to step out the door, he turned back and declared a final judgment, “What goes on in this house isn't any of our business. If you two want to get married and make the world's smallest estate, Gravor, if you want to turn your home into a house of charity, that's not our business.” He raised one mighty index finger – the same that had stopped a rambling Blueberry mid-sentence a few minutes earlier. “Unless you make it our business. We are going to keep a close eye on things here to make sure everything is as it seems.”
Gravor stepped outside to see him off. Ethan put a hand on his shoulder. “You're a good man, Gravor. You may think that without family in town -- without real family -- you're alone, but there are a lot of people who want to help you." Ethan frowned. "Now, I see your hands are injured. If this mess with Blueberry has anything to do with it, you can tell me.”
“No, no, Mr. Lilly. As I told Miss Vera, it was a climbing accident.”
Ethan's face retained its stolid expression, but his grip on Gravor's shoulder tightened. “Vera is a kind soul. So kind that she sometimes forgets what's best for her. I know I can count on you to keep far away from her. At least until this business here is over.”
Under the vice of Ethan's hand, Gravor began to lose the sensation in his fingertips. After days of chronic pain, he would have welcomed the anesthesia if he hadn't been too worried about his clavicle cracking. “Oh yes, of course,” he whimpered. “She just happened by today and inquired about my health, so I was obliged to explain. I would never presume...”
“Good.” Ethan released Gravor's shoulder and gave him a disdainful pat on the cheek. “I'll be around,” he said.
Gravor could feel himself redden under Ethan's scuff and lowered his face. “Yes, please stop in anytime. My door is always open, even just for a chat and a cup of...” But Ethan had already turned to join the receding men.
