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“For I would much prefer you just say it now while you have the chance.”
    Mr. Tucker’s penitent look was instant if not completely believable. “Look, Flora. I was going to save this for later, but maybe this will repair your frayed nerves a bit.”
    â€œMy nerves are fine,” she snapped. “It is your calendar that needs repair.”
    He produced a folded piece of paper from his coat pocket and offered it to her as if he hadn’t heard her comment. “Our marriage license,” he said with a wink. “I even spoke with the parson before I checked in. He can marry us tomorrow morning.” He glanced over his shoulder and then back at her. “See, I have been busy.”
    â€œBut—”
    â€œHoney, I’m not going anywhere, but apparently the reverend is. It’s the soonest he would agree to marry us. Go ahead and look at the license if you don’t believe me.”
    Flora inspected the document and decided it looked every bit as legitimate as the marital property agreement upstairs in her suitcase. Convincing an attorney to draw up the contract under a vow of silence had taken work, but she would not be sharing any more of the Brimm fortune with this stranger than the agreed upon amount.
    A brisk north breeze lifted the edge of the document and almost pulled it from her hand as Flora met Will Tucker’s eyes. She had one more thing to clarify with him. “My grandmother swears she saw you at a party we attended last week.”
    She watched carefully for any response. Instead, his face went blank. “Mr. Tucker? Did you hear me?”
    Slowly a grin lifted the corners of his lips. “I did but I figured you had to be teasing.”
    Flora schooled her own features. “So you weren’t there?”
    â€œHonestly, how can you think I would watch you covertly and not make myself known?” He shrugged. “Your grandmother is mistaken.”
    â€œYes, I suppose she must be,” Flora said slowly as she allowed his words to take hold. She quickly folded the license and returned it to him. “I shall need a meeting time for tomorrow morning.”
    He cocked his hat back and seemed to think a moment. “Nine o’clock. I’m to deliver you to the parsonage.”
    The way he stated things, Flora felt as if she were some sort of package to be deposited on the porch. Truly, for an educated man, Mr. Tucker hid his accolades well.
    â€œVery well, then. I shall meet you in the hotel lobby at half past eight.”
    He reached to draw her fingers to his lips. The odd thought occurred that this intimate act should not feel so off-putting, not when the man would be her husband by this time tomorrow.
    The man who would father the favored heir.
    â€œFlora, dear, if I didn’t know better, I would think you were dismissing me. And only hours before our wedding.”
    Something in his demeanor, in the flippant way he addressed what was a topic of great concern, jabbed at her. She glanced around to be certain they were alone and then paused to offer a look she hoped would measure up to Grandmama’s do-not-mistake-my-meaning expression.
    â€œYou do not know me better, Mr. Tucker, nor am I much acquainted with you. Any attempts to suggest otherwise, and that marriage license is worthless.”

    Lucas leaned further into the shadows beneath the back stairs and adjusted his specially constructed and soon-to-be-patented bowler hat, being careful not to allow the acoustic tube that enhanced his ability to listen in on Flora Brimm’s conversation to show. She thought she was marrying Tucker in the morning.
    He would see about that.
    â€œSo, yes, I am dismissing you, Mr. Tucker,” she said clearly as her groom-to-be clutched the document he’d shown her. “There are preparations to be made.” At the man’s dense look, she continued. “Do you wish to draw attention to the fact you and I are here