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fair, with eyes of stormy gray and impossibly long lashes that a woman might envy. His hair stood in stark contrast to his dark hat and suit, and it had been cropped shorter than she remembered upon their last meeting. Still, he bore that dreamy Mr. Darcy quality that women who liked that sort of man might adore.
    Had she planned on marrying for love, Will Tucker would not likely have made the topmost tier of her wish list, but with four former fiancés in their graves and a rumor that she might somehow be a party to their demises, Flora had long since given up on any sort of demands she might place on a husband.
    For that matter, she’d almost given up on a husband due to the lack of possible candidates until her fortuitous meeting with Mr. Tucker on the steamboat between New Orleans and Natchez. She’d just left an interminable visit where she’d been forced to listen to Winny speak at length on what he would do with the profits gained from the sale of Brimmfield. Rather than hide away on a packet ship to a remote location, she’d climbed aboard the Lady of the River with a headache and a prayer.
    Mr. Tucker and his talent for conversation had been the answer to both. That and his interesting ability to quote literature and to remember almost anything he read with perfect clarity and recall.
    Then there was the fact that almost immediately after petitioning the Lord for the perfect husband, he appeared.
    â€œA moment of your time, sir,” Flora said as she linked arms with her intended and led him away from the staircase toward the office and front exit.
    If he was surprised by her forward behavior, Mr. Tucker did not let on. Rather, he dipped his head in greeting. “Well, hello there, Flora.”
    She slid him a sideways look. “‘Hello there’ is not what I’d hoped to hear from you, Mr. Tucker. But this is not the place to discuss it.”
    â€œI have been meditating on the very great pleasure which a pair of fine eyes in the face of a pretty woman can bestow,” he said, quoting Mr. Darcy from the novel Pride and Prejudice as he had upon their first meeting. The cad.
    â€œIt’s a bit late for that sort of behavior, Mr. Tucker. You’ll need to stop quoting others and begin by telling me the cause of your delay.” She nodded toward the front exit of the hotel. “Perhaps a walk is in order. Will you join me?”
    He offered a smile. “After you, Miss Brimm.”
    When they had made their way around the side of the building away from the prying eyes of other guests, Flora released her grip on his arm. A sweep of his person from the tip of his well-shod toes to the top of his head, covered in a most fashionable hat, told her Mr. Tucker’s trip to Eureka Springs had not been uncomfortable. Nor had it been recent, for there wasn’t a single spot of soot or a wrinkle in his clothing to indicate he’d just traveled by rail.
    Several responses came in response to the grin that lifted the corner of his mouth. “You’re late,” was the one she chose.
    He dared to chuckle. “I’m right on time, darlin’.” He glanced around and then swung his attention back to Flora. “You’ll understand if I don’t elaborate. Official business and all.”
    But she didn’t understand. Nor did it matter what sort of business kept him from arriving two weeks ago as promised. Or, worse, kept him on the periphery of her life without any indication he’d been there, if that had indeed been the case.
    She looked past him toward Magnetic Springs and the mountains beyond, a lovely scene to soothe her rumpled thoughts. But gazing at the vista would do nothing to remedy the fact that her carefully laid plans were quickly falling by the wayside. Flora crossed her arms over her chest and willed her temper to cool.
    â€œMr. Tucker,” she said firmly. “You are not ‘right on time.’ You are, in a word, late.