Flora's Wish (44 page)

“Then I say continue with what you're doing, and please, for my sake, do a passable job of pretending to be my future son-in-law. I would consider that a personal favor. And perhaps you will find you like the job.”

“Yes, sir. I will.” He rose to shake the older man's hand. “Though with all due respect, I doubt I'm up to the task for longer than a few days.”

“We shall see, won't we? Oh, and son, the next time I find you dangling from the second floor with my daughter, all bets are off on what I will do with the pruning shears. Understand?”

“Clearly, sir.”

C
ome with me, Flora,” Grandmama insisted. True to Father's prediction, they had listened outside the door until the men finished their conversation. Slipping into Mrs. Brimm's private parlor, Flora couldn't help but tease her grandmother.

“So,” she said as she settled on her favorite spot, a floral divan with a tasseled ottoman for resting her feet. “I couldn't help but notice that you heard the conversation on the other side of the door better than I did.”

“Don't be silly.” Seated in a lemon-yellow chair nearest the window, her grandmother changed the subject. “I noticed you coaxed Violet out into the sunshine earlier today. Well done.”

She had, though it had taken the promise that she would read
Pride and Prejudice
aloud to her to achieve the feat. “I wish I could have done more. Why does she insist on living down there at the cottage?”

“Have you asked her?”

“Repeatedly. She refuses to leave. I did offer up a quote you might recall.” At her grandmother's lifted brow, Flora continued. “‘God hath not given us the spirit of fear; but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind.'”

“Well done, my dear.” With a soft sigh, Grandmama appeared to turn her attention to the trim on a pillow at her side.

“I won't stop trying. She is just as much a member of this family as I am, and I hate it that she will not be attending the ball.”

“Flora, dear, you must be patient.”

How could she be, with Brimmfield slipping a little further from her grasp every day? “She is happy there, isn't she?”

“I believe she is,” Grandmama said. “Violet has all the comforts of Brimmfield without the invasion of privacy that too often happens here in this house. For now, at least, the cottage suits her. I hope someday soon that will change. In fact, I plan to have her accompany me to take the waters next year. I think it would be quite beneficial. Now, may we speak of something else before your father barges in and interrupts us?”

Violet take the waters?
Yes, Lord, please.
“Of course.”

“I've worked hard to keep our family name unsullied. Do not leave out any of the details when you tell me what your plans are with Mr. McMinn.”

“Plans with Lucas?” Flora let out a long breath. For once, the demands of the Brimm matriarch did not frighten her.

“Ladies, are you in there?”

One gray brow rose as Flora's grandmother continued to watch her. “We are, son.”

Father opened the door, his expression far from grim. “Thank you for your discretion in giving me time alone with Mr. McMinn.” He crossed the room to hand Grandmama her ear trumpet.

“I trust you had a worthwhile conversation in our absence,” she said as she fitted the device to her ear.

“Yes, very.” Father turned his attention to Flora. “You will give your best cooperation to the Pinkerton agent, though you may continue to vex him should he broach propriety.”

Flora grinned. “I shall, though I doubt that will be a concern.”

Father and Grandmama exchanged a look. “Of course,” he said before making his excuses and his escape.

“Do you love him?”

“No, of course not, Grandmama. Why on earth would I love Lucas McMinn?”

Another smile, this one much slower to grow into a broad grin. “Oh, dear, it's much worse than I expected. You're completely smitten and vexed all the same.”

Ire rose, as did Flora. “Truly, Grandmama, I thought you were on my side.”

“I am, dear. I just find it interesting that when I said
him
, you assumed I was speaking of Mr. McMinn.” She gave Flora a pointed look. “You'd best get that sorted in your mind before you marry the wrong man.”

The next evening in preparation for the ball in her honor, Flora had Lucy lace her corset tighter than usual. She did this only because she didn't want to give those who tended to gossip a reason to suspect she had any cause to marry quickly other than for love.
If only love really was the cause,
she silently lamented.

Duty would have to suffice.

She held tight to the bedpost and held her breath in while Lucy completed the work of perfecting her tiny waist. As the process of dressing continued, she allowed herself to think of the plan she and Lucas had agreed upon.

This afternoon's reception had gone very well, mostly because he had not been required to attend after all and her grandmother had not mentioned their conversation of the previous evening. Though Grandmama's friends grilled her without ceasing about every detail of her engagement, Flora was able to handle the questions and returned to her bedchamber exhausted but ready for the next event.

Lucy completed her dressing duties and stepped back to offer Flora the mirror. A nod and the maid was gone, leaving Flora alone. Again she went to the window, and this time when she saw the light in the cottage window across from her, she smiled. “It's Wednesday,” she whispered. “Two more days and our problem is solved.”

A knock diverted Flora's attention. She went to answer the door and found Lucas standing there. Gone was the Pinkerton agent with little regard for fashion or society. In his place stood a well-groomed and well-dressed gentleman with a smile that appeared to be only for her.

“Breathtaking,” he said in a voice so soft that she wondered if she had actually been meant to hear.

He offered his arm, and together they walked down to the ballroom, where the band was playing a sedate violin concerto by Vivaldi. At Flora's arrival, the conductor gave the signal to cease the music. Someone must have sent word to Father and Grandmama that they were on their way down, because both of the elder Brimms awaited Flora and Lucas on the dais.

“Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome my daughter Flora and the man who has undertaken the daunting task of seeing to her well-being, Mr. Lucas McMinn.”

Interesting how Father managed to speak the truth while giving the impression that Lucas and I are, indeed, engaged.

A round of applause filled the ballroom. “While I'll not ask Mr. McMinn to make a speech at this juncture, I will ask him if he would lead off the dancing tonight.”

The next thing Flora realized, Lucas was leading her around the dance floor and the tune had switched to a waltz. Other dancers joined them, including Simon Honeycutt's parents. As the older pair danced closer to Flora and Lucas, she began to cringe.

“What is it?” Lucas asked.

“Mrs. Honeycutt. I don't know what to say to her. It's just awful whenever I see her.”

A breath of laughter was in his voice. “Yes, I've seen the lengths you go to avoid her.”

He moved her deftly around a slower-moving couple and picked up the thread of conversation once more. “What do you wish you could tell her?”

“How very sorry I am about Simon.” She paused. “How deeply I cared for him. And how much I still miss his smile.”

He slowed their pace to match the Honeycutts just as the waltz ended. “Then that's what you need to tell her.”

For the first time since meeting Lucas, Flora decided to take his advice. Once they had parted, she reached out to Mrs. Honeycutt, and after a long hug, she told her dear friend's mother exactly how she felt. Though tears fell, Flora walked away from the conversation with a deep peace and gratitude that the Lord had somehow used Lucas McMinn's wise words to restore a once-lost relationship.

“That was very nice of you,” Grandmama said a moment later, discreetly handing Flora a scented handkerchief. “I'm sure Miriam heard what she'd hoped from you.”

As Flora dabbed daintily at her eyes, she looked out over the crowd and saw Lucas deep in conversation with her father. “What she'd hoped?”

“Yes, dear. All she's ever wanted to hear from you is how very dear Simon was to you. She just needed to know he was loved.”

Flora smiled. “I told her that.”

“Good girl.” Grandmama patted her arm. “Now I must go and mingle.”

Seeing that the ballroom doors were open to the balcony overlooking the gardens, Flora slipped outside to breathe in the night air. Strains of a vaguely familiar song drifted toward her on the breeze and settled deep in her heart. As with the last time she stood beneath the stars, Flora found the night sky far too beautiful for words.

“Lovely,” Lucas said as he came to stand beside her.

She rested her palms on the rail and let out a long breath. “Yes, the night is beautiful.”

“No, Flora,” he said gently. “I meant you.”

“Thank you.” She slid a glance in his direction with a smile. “You clean up quite nicely yourself.”

A dip of his head served as his thanks. How long they stood side by side, Flora couldn't say. All the while her conscience niggled at her until finally she turned to face Lucas.

“I need to apologize to you.”

“Oh?” He lifted a dark brow. “For what?”

She smiled. “Though I'm sure it would be far more satisfying if I offered up a laundry list of offences to which I would plead an apology, suffice it to say that I realize I've been a pain. Worse, I have put myself and your investigation in danger on more than one occasion.”

“You have indeed.” Lucas showed the beginnings of his own smile. “Am I to understand you are mending your ways?”

“Mending is such a harsh term. I think I prefer amending.”

Lucas chuckled. “And what's the difference, other than one vowel?”

“I am amending the ways I already have. Not changing, but rather refining them.” She shrugged as she struggled to keep a straight face. “You see the difference, of course.”