A few days later found Scout settling into her new life. She spent her days happily puttering around the marvelous library, pulling books out and sorting them into piles, based on subject matter, author, publication date, and the like.

"How do you even know to put these two together?" George asked curiously, picking up two squat volumes and looking at the spines.

"They're both about Italian Renaissance painting," Scout explained, glancing briefly at the books he was holding as she walked by.

George got a whiff of the shampoo she used, which smelled like honeysuckle, and lingered about her head and shoulders.

"How do you know that?" he asked, following her to the rolling ladder, and watching as she climbed it. He looked at her trim and tidy ankles, which were at his eye level and seemed very dear indeed in her little pink non-skid tennis socks with the ball on the heel. "These aren't even in English."

Her voice came from above his head as she searched for something, sticking her head between the books. "I took some languages as part of my major, it was a requirement."

He swallowed. "Some languages? How many?" He thought for a moment. "And which ones?"

Silence, then, "Aha! I knew you were up here somewhere, you fucker." More silence. "Hm? Oh. Um, French, German, Italian? Um, Latin, of course. And Japanese."

"Japanese?"

Scout climbed down, giving George an eyeful of a toned and white and glorious tummy between her Rolling Stones T-shirt and stretch pants as she did so. She was holding a slim volume with a map of Africa stamped on the cover.

"Well, that wasn't required for my major like the others," she admitted with a grin. "I took it on a lark one year, kinda crammed two years of coursework into one year of free elective time?"

"A lark?" George repeated in awe. "Jesus, Scout."

She turned to him. "What? I like languages, I like words." She shrugged. "And it really helps with my English, too, you know?" She looked at him inquiringly.

"I don't notice where you need a lot of help in that area," George said drily.

"Well, there's a reason for that," she responded with another smile, already engrossed in the book she was holding. She didn't even notice the admiring way George looked at her.

Sunil poked his dark head around the side of the door.

"Delivery truck coming up the drive, Mr. Wilder," he announced.

"Good morning, Miss Scout," he added cheerfully.

"Good morning, Sunil," she responded, smiling at him.

"You need anything, Miss?" he asked hopefully. "Can I bring you some tea? Or some biscuits, like?"

"No, thank you, you know we have a rule about food or liquids in this room, anyway, right?" she responded, not unkindly.

"Yeah, I know," he replied sheepishly. "Still, just thought I'd check, you know?"

Just then there was a kind of scuffling noise in the hallway, and Alfred's countenance appeared next to Sunil's. He was carefully holding a cup of tea, with two cookies sitting in the saucer.

"Brought you some tea, Miss," he called. "With sugar, just how you like," he added, pleased with himself.

"You suck up wanker," George and Scout heard Sunil say accusingly to Alfred sotto voce.

Scout laughed, shaking her head, as George rolled his eyes at her so the boys couldn't see. She set the book down and walked to where the two young men stood.

"Thank you, Alfred," she said, smiling at him as she accepted the cup.

"I guess I'd better see what's being delivered, anyway," George said, following her. The four of them trooped to the front door just as a delivery van pulled up.

"Are you expecting something?" Scout asked, taking a bite of one of the cookies.

"Actually, I am," George responded, giving her an undecipherable look as he descended the steps. He spoke to the delivery guy and signed the clipboard. The guy unloaded something from the back, called, "Cheers, mate," and drove away, leaving a few large boxes in the drive way.

"Give me a hand, lads?" George called, and Alfred and Sunil ran down to manhandle the boxes into the house.

"What in the world did you buy?" Scout asked.

"Open them," George answered, gesturing to the boxes.

"Really?" she asked doubtfully.

He nodded, smiling.

She opened the first box, and pulled out a set of really fine women's golf clubs. The next box contained a bag for holding the clubs.

"You said you played, and I know you brought a lot of shit with you, but I'm fairly certain you didn't bring any clubs," George explained. "I would've seen them, I think."

Scout was nearly speechless. "How wonderful!" she exclaimed. "And how generous." She turned to George, eyes shining. "Thank you, so much," she said softly, leaning in to kiss his cheek.

Sunil and Alfred watched, grinning and nudging each other, as George held Scout's elbow and kissed her back, secretly inhaling the floral fragrance of her hair before releasing her. "You're very welcome," he murmured.

She began unwrapping everything, exclaiming over the quality and heft of the clubs, the quality of the heads and grips. And she knew how to accept a gift; there was no hemming and hawing, no, "You shouldn't have!" or anything like that, just simple gratitude and enjoyment.

She grinned at George. "And I love the color, too, isn't that just the dumbest thing you ever heard? Tiffany blue!"

He smiled back, enjoying her happiness, feeling like Alfred and Sunil as he watched her. He'd have to be careful or he'd start just buying her things, simply in order to elicit this response from her, to see this unadulterated joy.

"So, I say we try these bad boys out straight away," he suggested. "Like today, right after lunch?" He looked at Scout to see what she thought of this response.

She looked at him, obviously delighted with this idea. Her brow furrowed as a thought struck her.

"What?" he asked. "You don't want to?"

"No, of course I want to," she replied. "But you hired me, brought me here, to work, you know? And I've left all those books out on the tables and everything, it'll take at least half an hour to get the muslin out to cover them properly. I should at least do that before we go, I think."

"Oh, we can do the covering bit for you, Miss," Alfred cut in.

"Yeah, easy as pie," Sunil, joined in, happy to be of service. "You go enjoy your afternoon, like, me and Alfred'll cover all the tables, we've seen you do it, we know how to knot the muslin on the legs and all," he assured her.

"Really?" Scout asked them. "You guys would do that? It's not even your job. It's okay, you don't have to," she told them. "If you do my work for me, you'll have to stay later to finish your own work, and I don't want you to have to do that."

"No, Miss, we don't mind at all, honest we don't!" Both boys were falling all over themselves trying to tell Scout that they didn't care if they had to stay late, to the point that she couldn't understand either one of them.

"Stop!" George commanded, laughing. "Okay, have at it! Please, cover the tables, you know where the muslin's kept, and just stop at your usual time, the windows can wait until next week, yeah?" He looked at the two young men, who nodded.

**************************

They were just finishing lunch when they heard a noisy engine roaring up the drive. Scout looked inquiringly at George.

"Are you expecting anyone?" she asked.

He shook his head, lips pursed. Scout got the feeing he recognized the sound of the car.

They put their dishes in the sink and once again went to the front door, where a cute blonde woman was pulling an overnight case from the back of an equally cute red convertible.

"Hi, George!" she called cheerfully, hurrying up the steps to lean in for a very friendly kiss. She had a lush, old-fashioned figure, an improbably narrow waist with the rich swell of body above and below, like a 1940s pinup girl.

"Hullo, Kelly," George responded, putting an arm around her waist and turning toward Scout.

"Scout, this is my PA, um, personal assistant, Kelly Carson." He pulled his arm from around her waist and stepped toward Scout.

"Scout Lawson is my archivist, the one I hired to straighten out the library finally," he explained to Kelly. "You want some tea while you tell me why you surprised me by driving all the way down here from London?" he asked, leading them both back to the kitchen.

"Oh," said Kelly, surprise making her arch her pretty brows as she followed George. "I thought your archivist was a man?"

"Yeah, a bit of a mix-up," George responded easily, and Scout knew George well enough by then that she could see he was blushing.

"I'm just going to get back to my books, then, so you two can talk, okay?" she said, stopping at the entrance to the kitchen.

George's eyes flicked to Scout's new golf clubs, which were leaning against the wall next to the kitchen door in preparation for their afternoon outing. He looked regretfully at Scout, apology in his eyes.

"I'm sorry, did I interrupt something?" Kelly asked, looking back and forth between the two of them.

"No, not at all," Scout replied firmly. "I have work to do, so I'll see you later." And she turned and left, managing to catch Alfred and Sunil before they got the muslin tied off.

"Change of plans, boys," she called out, entering the library. "I'm going to be working after all, and I could really use your help, so how about if you stay in here and help me?"

They were of course thrilled to spend the afternoon in her company, and the three of them spent a happy afternoon sorting books while Scout regaled them with stories about the various books, making them more in awe of her than ever with her vivacious wit and brains.

"Did you really graduate from Yale, Miss?" Alfred asked reverently.

"Yes," Scout answered, amused. "Why? Is a university education something you want? Is Yale something you aspire to?"

He quickly shook his head.

"Oh no, Miss, haven't got the brains, me," he said with a self-deprecating smile.

"That's not true, Miss," Sunil interjected. "Alfred gets good marks in school, he's just afraid is all."

"That's true of both of us," Alfred responded loudly.

Scout smiled at both of them.

"How long have you two been friends?" she asked.

"We've been next door neighbors since we were born," Alfred explained. "We're sixteen now, and we think it's amazing that you've done so much, studied so much," he said bashfully. "And at Yale and all," he added.

"You must be the cleverest person we've ever met," Sunil concluded, nodding.

Meanwhile, in the kitchen, Kelly sipped her tea as George gave her a frank and not very friendly look.

"I asked you last time not to do this anymore, if I recall," he finally said.

She looked unblinkingly back at him, finally responding, "I was concerned, George. It's been months since anyone's heard from you at all."

"Right." He took a drink of his scotch.

"Bit early for that, isn't it?" She gestured to his hand.

He shrugged.

"Look, if something happens to me, I guarantee you'll hear about it, all right?" He looked at her, brows raised. "No news constitutes good news, in my case, so you can get in your car and drive your pretty little bum right back to London, yeah?"

"George!" Kelly looked at him, shock and hurt making her eyes bright. "There's no need to talk to me like that, is there?"

George looked at her, his glance softening. "Sorry. I'm being a right wanker. But truly, I'm fine. Feeling better than I've felt in a long time." He nodded reassuringly at her.

"Well, you do look better," she said, taking a sip of her tea. "At least you look like you're sleeping, anyway.

"Now, did you mean it about sending me on my way?" she asked. "Can I at least stay the night? Please?"

"Of course," he nodded, smiling. He rose. "In fact, let's go get you set up in a room now, hm?"

She stood to follow him, and he didn't see the naked disappointment on her face as they left the room.