Chapter Three

Lobelia was not one to cower in hiding, even when unwanted guests came to the door. There was no one more unwelcome than Gandalf, but even so she opened the door at his knock (with the end of his staff; the nerve of some people!) and looked up at him with undisguised dislike.

She said nothing.

"Mistress Lobelia," Gandalf began. "I beg pardon for this intrusion. However, there are a few questions I would like to ask you."

"Ask away," she said. "Answering them is my business, though."

"I have come to the Shire in haste, at the request of Frodo. A very valuable possession of his has … disappeared."

Lobelia had been expecting this to come up. But his choice of words was disconcerting. She looked him straight in the eye.

"I could have told you that years ago," she said. "He's not missing only one valuable thing. Self-respect, sanity, a sense of the family honor; as far as I know he's never had them. Thanks very probably to you and Bilbo, who couldn't leave well enough alone."

"If you are referring to an incident in Bilbo's younger days when he, shall we say, vanished, for a certain period of time, yes, that was my doing. What came afterward, however, was as much a surprise to me as to anyone."

Lobelia met the eyes of the wizard without flinching, though a cold fear gripped her insides. He knew. He must know. And after all, he was a wizard. What might he do to her to get it from her?

"If you will pardon me," she said. "I expect guests within the hour, and I must finish preparing for them."

She began to retreat, in a manner calculated to seem careless, but Gandalf stopped her.

"Lobelia." His bushy eyebrows caught her attention as they slanted downwards. "Do not attempt to lie to me. The Ring is in your possession. You have stolen it from Frodo."

Lobelia huffed out a laugh. "I would not say stolen. Certainly not. If the ring is Frodo's, I knew nothing about that. It came to me quite by accident. Do I look like the sort of person capable of knocking down such a strong lad, much less rendering him unconscious?"

"May I come in?" asked Gandalf. "I promise you that I have no intention of taking the Ring from you; I merely wish to talk, and our subject of conversation is suited far more to the indoors."

She hesitated only for a moment. If indeed he meant to steal her ring, she would rather it did not make such a scene. The fewer who knew she possessed it, the better. She moved inside and held the door open.

"Would you like some tea?"