Flora's Wish (37 page)

“And what was that?”

“All I wanted was a happily ever after.” She sighed softly. “I'm still wishing for that.”

He shook his head.

“What?” Flora asked as she dabbed at her damp face.

Green eyes collided with hers, and Flora felt the impact all the way to her toes. “I was just thinking that it's hard to believe that someone with all these things the Lord has blessed her with would still want more.”

He was right, of course. Mostly.

“I am blessed with a life of privilege and wealth that only a few ever know, Lucas, and I do realize that. I'm thankful, yes, very. But that's not what happily ever after means to me.”

In an attempt to divert the conversation to a less dangerous topic, she grabbed his wrist and dropped his handkerchief into it. “It's clean. Mostly.”

“Thank you. And yes, that was sarcasm again.” He nodded toward the path leading back to the house. “You should go inside now. It's getting dark, and I couldn't help overhearing that you have plans with your grandmother.”

An impertinent expression crossed her face. At least that was the impression she hoped to convey. The truth was, after her conversation with Grandmama, she wanted nothing to do with Natchez society until she could return to it with a husband on her arm.

Or a complete explanation.

And right now she had neither. But if he had a plan for the evening, then maybe she did too.

“I wouldn't dream of going out with Grandmama tonight. Not when I've promised you I would stay right here at Brimmfield unless you accompany me.”

“Prearranged excursions are allowed as long as I approve them.”

“So you wouldn't mind if I went into Natchez?”

He gave her a sideways look. “To the Chamberlains with your grandmother at eight? The Ellicotts will be there.”

“You listen far too closely to my grandmother.”

“And I don't think you listen enough.” A muscle clenched in his jaw.

She paused to size up her adversary. If he'd just let her accompany him, they would have a much greater chance of finding Will. An idea dawned. “You know, you're right. I really should listen more.”

Of course, he had no idea what her grandmother had been advising her. He would have been surprised, to say the least.

“Is this more sarcasm?”

“No, this is my grandmother's wisdom. Know when to pursue and when to retreat. So now that you've bested me in this argument, might I suggest you use one of our buggies to go into town? It would prove much faster than walking.” She paused just long enough to make him believe she was speaking off the cuff. “Or you could have one of our men drive you in and drop you wherever you'd like.” A shrug, nonchalant and yet not too casual. “Then you would arrive unseen.”

He crossed his arms over his chest. “You're awfully helpful all of a sudden.”

“Again, Grandmama's wisdom.”

“Know when to pursue and when to retreat? Or did she tell you something else?”

Flora smiled congenially. “Yes and yes. Now, if you're intent on walking, good luck. If you'd prefer the use of one of the Brimm vehicles, I can arrange it.”

“Or you can go get ready for your party and I'll arrange things myself.”

He caught her by the elbow and set her in motion. She went willingly, though she would never hint at the fact she could have resisted and left him stranded. Or that she might have mentioned that he was going the wrong way.

After a few minutes, Lucas stopped to look around. “We're not going toward the barn, are we?”

Flora smiled. “Father prefers to call it the carriage house, but no, we're not.”

“And it's almost dark.”

She shrugged. “
Apparement
,” she said in her best French just to see if he might respond in kind. Instead, he ignored her.

Oh, my, but he is handsome, especially when befuddled.

He let out a long breath as he reached into his jacket and retrieved an odd-looking brass sphere. A flick of his wrist and the top of the sphere slid back to reveal some sort of glass covering. “This way, Flora,” he said as he turned and headed in the correct direction, leaving her to follow.

As the carriage house came into view, Flora caught up. “Nicely done. What sort of device is that?”

“A direction finder,” he said as he slid the covering back on the orb and returned it to his pocket. “Rather than using magnetic north as a compass would, my device can discern size based on heat and other factors and allow the user to decide where…” He shook his head. “Never mind. It got us here, and that's what counts.”

“Yes, it does. What other inventions do you have in your coat pocket?”

“Other than the personal torch and spectacles, which you've seen? I have climbing spikes, a hearing device, and a bullet for my revolver that contains a filament line for… Well, never mind.”

“You're an interesting man, Lucas McMinn of the New Orleans Girards.” She paused to make one last plea. “Only a smart man would think up things like that. So, since you're a man of high intelligence, I'll ask you again to take me with you this evening. I promise I will do exactly as you say and stay out of your way.”

“You will?” he asked as he leaned closer. “Promise?”

“I promise,” she said with a smile. “Definitely promise.”

“Flora?” He lightly grazed her cheek with his knuckle. “No.”

“Oh!” She swatted in his direction, but he easily deflected her blow. “You're insufferable. Completely and utterly insufferable!”

He had the audacity to laugh. “Yes, I am. Now go inside or I will think you're planning to follow me.”

Then he had the nerve to stand right there and watch as she turned and stormed off. Of course, she played up her irritation to the hilt. What he did not know was that while she'd earned championship honors in chess at Dillingham Ladies Preparatory, she had also been named Thespian of the Year. An honor she would have won all over again had her classmates seen her performance as she played an obedient but defeated damsel.

N
atchez Under-the-Hill was poor relation to its wealthier and safer cousin up on the bluff, a fact that caused Lucas to keep one hand on the reins and the other on his revolver until he'd safely parked the borrowed rig. If he was lucky, he wouldn't have to buy Mrs. Brimm another horse and buggy to replace this one.

Keeping to the shadows, Lucas easily found the place where Kyle was waiting. Situated next to the telegraph office, the bar was seedy, even for this part of town, and filled wall-to-wall with fresh off-the-steamboat river rat types and the women who were paid to pretend an interest in them.

Though his best friend and cohort at the agency wore clothing no different than the other toughs who frequented this sort of place, Lucas would have recognized him anywhere. Such was the bond of friendship, and theirs had been forged over years and miles.

“You're making some folks at the agency awful skittish,” Kyle told him when Lucas settled down beside him at a table with a clear view of the door.

Lucas chuckled as he glanced around, half expecting Flora to be hiding in some dark corner. “What's the verdict? Did the boss send you here to tell me I'm fired?”

“That was one of the options.” He paused to glance up at three potential jailbirds as they walked in. “A promotion was the other,” he said when the trio passed by them to find places at the bar.

“I'm guessing you're here to tell me either could happen at this point.”

“You're right, but I also have a little good news. Thanks to the warrant sworn out in Eureka Springs, an official case has been opened.”

Lucas swallowed the whoop of joy that likely would have gotten them shot or stabbed. “That
is
good news,” he said instead.

“The boss wasn't keen on it, but apparently someone above him in the Chicago office vetoed him. The news isn't all good, though. The other message I was sent to deliver is that you have three weeks to bring Tucker in and make the charges against him stick.”

Three weeks wasn't nearly enough time should Tucker slip past him here in Natchez to escape again. And yet Lucas knew he would manage it somehow. He hadn't come this far to fail.

Still, Tucker had proven how elusive he could be. “And if I don't?”

“Case closed. And you're either on to something else or…”

“Fired?”

Kyle shook his head. “I prefer to think of it as reassigned. I hear the railroads are hiring men with detective work experience.”

“Duly noted.”

Lucas's friend leaned forward. “Any more news on Tucker?”

“I had a quick meeting with a telegraph man who swore he'd seen him. Said Tucker sent a message here to Natchez.” He paused. “He claimed he couldn't remember the name of the recipient.”

“They never do.”

Lucas shifted positions to steal a glance at the door. When he returned his attention to Kyle, he said, “He did recall the message was that he'd be seeing the recipient soon.”

“So there'll be a wedding after all?”

Everything about that idea sat poorly with Lucas. “Could be,” he said, though he knew he would do everything in his power to keep that from happening. Despite Flora's penchant for irritating him beyond his tolerance, Lucas had developed a fondness for her. He would certainly not like to see her hurt by Tucker.

“Give me a rundown of any new facts,” Kyle said. “I'll need a description if you have it, and any contacts you know of.”

“The facts are the same. Flora still believes he is innocent, and—”

“Flora, is it?”

Lucas ignored the friendly jab as something he deserved. After all, the two of them had a long history of teasing each other that dated back to their school years. “She's in custody and nothing more,” he asserted. “As I was saying, she claims she can find him. She also tells me there's a good reason why he's innocent, and if I will just hear his story I'll understand.”

Lucas shook his head, and Kyle did the same. “Typical woman covering for her man?”