Flora's Wish (60 page)

“I don't think so.” She crossed her arms and tried not to let the overwhelming hurt that had been inside for more than a month spill out in a most unseemly way. “You left me without so much as a goodbye, Mr. McMinn, and now you want to waltz back into my life, buy my home out from under me, and then ask me to
discuss
it?” She rose, disgusted. “The time for discussion was before you walked out. Or at any point along the way where you realized how stupidly you behaved.”

She stormed past him, trying to ignore the fact that she'd never seen the man look better. From the well-cut suit to the black mask covering all but those Irish eyes, the nearness of him made her knees weak.

“Stop, Flora. I can explain—”

Giving his request no heed, she walked toward the door. Unfortunately, she found it bolted shut. A look around the room showed her the easiest form of exit.

Without sparing Lucas a glance, she headed straight for the potted plants.

“Flora Brimm,” he said loud enough for half the room to hear him, “come back here!”

She squeezed behind the palms, went to the window and unlocked it, and then raised the sash. Unlike her last venture out this window, the air was warm and the breeze was barely noticeable. She stepped onto the ledge and breathed in deeply.

She had no home. The man she once loved had stolen it away.

The sound of approaching boots told her he had followed her.

“I want your wish to come true, Flora. Your happily ever after.”

She froze and then turned to face him as he joined her on the ledge. “Did I wish that?”

He smiled and lifted her chin to cause her to look into his eyes. “You may not remember, but I do.”

“Go back inside, Lucas.”

“Please just listen. I tried to contact you—”

“Then why didn't I get so much as a letter?” She held up her hand before he could respond. “Please leave me alone. I don't want to hear your excuses.”

He let go of her chin and bent toward her. Quickly, she turned again and made her way past the windows to the far end of the hotel, where the veranda proved less treacherous.

For Lucas, not for her.

Glancing around, she knew she must choose between going back into the ballroom or…she looked up as lightning crossed the sky. Yes, the fire escape. He would never follow her up there. Not with his aversion to storms.

But he did, all the way to the belvedere where they had enjoyed a memorable evening what seemed like an eternity ago.

“You left me,” she said when he moved with catlike grace toward her.

“I had to. If I'd waited to say goodbye, I never would have left.” His eyes searched her face. “A man has to heal alone, to learn to be a man again. I couldn't keep letting you take care of me.” Again he stretched out his right hand to her. “I still can't shoot the way I once could, but that's no matter. I've left the Pinkertons. I want to make a home with you at Brimmfield.”

Now she was really mad. Of all the nerve! “If you wanted to make a home with me, why didn't you care to ask how I felt about the matter?”

Tears threatened, but she refused to allow them to fall. He might have broken her heart, but he certainly was not going to see her cry.

With a glance in his direction, she could see he didn't appear willing to respond. Or perhaps he didn't know what to say.

In either case, his silence stretched her nerves beyond the point of control.

“Lucas McMinn,” she said through gritted teeth, “I am absolutely furious with you. Can't you see that? I declared my love for a man who then slipped out of my home and life without so much as a decent farewell, and now he's back and what am I supposed to think? Did you expect that buying Brimmfield would make everything all right? That coming to save me from my terrible fate would make me forget the fact that you walked out?” She fixed him with a look that told him exactly how she felt. “Well, it did not!”

Lucas winced as if she'd slapped him. He threw his mask aside as the moonlight washed his handsome features in soft silver shadows. “I did care. I do. I cared so much, but…well, I couldn't offer you half a man. I admit I didn't go about it the way I should have…”

“You're right about that!”

“I know,” he said softly. “That's why I sent the invitations. But then, when you didn't answer…” He scrubbed his face with his hands and shook his head. “Flora, can't we talk about this inside?”

Her eyes narrowed. “What invitations?”

“Surely you cannot claim you didn't receive the invitations I sent. There had to be at least a half dozen of them. Probably more. Starting with the day I sent the gifts to your grandmother and sister—”

“I don't know what you're talking about.”

He reached for her hand but she easily stepped away. “You said if I wanted you to see you again, I would have to send you an engraved invitation.” Their gazes met. “Well, I did.”

She thought of the stack of invitations in her bedchamber, items she had cast aside while looking for a letter she hoped Lucas might send. Had she really told him that?

“I could send someone to fetch them,” he offered. “I'm sure they were delivered. However, I'm not sure you read them.”

Flora attempted to blink away her tears again. She failed miserably. “No,” she admitted. “I didn't read any of the invitations I received. I had no idea… I mean, there was nothing to indicate…”

“That they were from me?” He grinned. “That was the idea. I was trying to be clever. Trying to tell you how much I wanted your forgiveness. And how very much I missed you.” He reached for her hand again, and this time she allowed him to lift her fingers to his lips. “Will you forgive me? I've been the worst kind of fool, but you have my word I'll never make that mistake again.”

The anger she'd held inside shifted, and with it went the hurt and disappointment. In its place was the warmth of her Pinkerton's smile and the knowledge that he had wanted her after all.

Or had he? The question sliced through her. Where was the proof?

Of course. It was in her suite.

Flora pulled her hand from his, picked up her skirts, and hurried from the belvedere toward the fire escape. Before she could forgive him, she had to know if he spoke the truth. She had already believed false promises. Now was not the time to fall for more.

“Flora, wait! Where are you going?”

“I've already had one man lie to me,” she called as she turned to fix him with a look she hoped would cause him to stop his pursuit. “I have to know I'm not falling for another.”

Lucas gave Flora a moment's head start before following after her. His arm ached but his heart hurt worse. Not the spot where Lennart had come within an inch of nicking it, but deep inside in that place he'd finally opened up to allow Flora Brimm in.

It didn't take a Pinkerton—or, rather, a former Pinkerton—to figure out where his bride-to-be was headed. Lucas knew which rooms the Brimm women were staying in; he'd found that out almost as soon as they had arrived at the Crescent. He could thank Flora's father for that.

That and a whole lot more. The man didn't have to welcome him as a prospective son-in-law and yet he had. Giving Brimmfield back to the head of the Brimm family had been an easy decision; the price of one dollar for a lifetime lease, even easier.

He arrived at the door to their suite and lifted his good arm to knock, but thankfully Flora had saved him the trouble by leaving the door ajar. He paused only long enough to get his bearings, and then he followed the soft sound of paper tearing.

“Lucas,” she said when she saw him in her bedchamber doorway. “You did. You sent…” She gestured at the invitations now spreading across her bed like oversized confetti. With each envelope she tore open, another decorated the silken coverlet.

Leaning against the frame, he paused to watch her reading the words he had written. The engraved invitation to visit him in New Orleans. To allow him to return to visit her at Brimmfield. To meet in a neutral location such as, ironically, here at the Crescent or aboard some as-yet-to-be named steamboat. To forgive him.

Each had been penned with his mind clear and lucid, his heart breaking.

Finally she spied the one he had sent in anticipation of today. Its pale blue color set it apart from the others.

It was the invitation to the wedding he hoped to pull off in the near future. For that he could thank Millicent Meriwether Brimm, for she and Violet had undertaken a project of the greatest secrecy and importance. And God for convincing Lucas he still had a chance with Flora.

If he could only convince her to return with him to Brimmfield, she would find that a wedding had been planned in her absence, complete with guests and an orchestra that would play their song upon their exit from the white cottage that was hastily being returned to its former purpose as a chapel.

Their reception would be a much grander affair in the Brimmfield ballroom, the place now set off with a trio of mirrors he'd had sent in from a buyer in Italy. Mrs. Brimm had been speechless when she realized they were an identical copy to the one that had been lost to the candle incident.

Millicent Brimm with nothing to say? That had been payment enough, but to know he had also gained the older woman's love and respect was priceless. Now to see if he could sway her granddaughter to give him the same.

Flora met his gaze, her eyes swimming with tears. “You sent all of these.”

He crossed the room to tilt up her chin. “I love you, Flora. That's not medication talking or the silly infatuation of a man who got himself love struck. I want to build a life with you if you'll have me. And I've already had the papers drawn up to return Brimmfield to you. It's yours to do with what you want.”

“Oh, Lucas. It's not Brimmfield I want. It's you. Us. It's…”

“Happily ever after?” He reached for his handkerchief to dab at her tears, and then he pressed his index finger gently to her lips. “I want to do this right and proper.”

She glanced around, merriment in her lovely eyes. “Where are your gadgets, Lucas? Don't you have some invention to do this right and proper?”

“There will always be gadgets, sweetheart. That's part of living with an inventor. But I'm getting ahead of myself.” He let out a long breath and moved to get down on one knee. From his pocket he pulled out a small black velvet box. “This is the only gadget I have to offer you. That and myself. Will you marry me, Flora Brimm?” he asked as he opened the box to show her a lovely aquamarine and diamond ring. “For the girl with the blue sky eyes.”

“Lucas,” she breathed. “This is better than the extra-vision spectacles, the portable climbing spikes, and all those other crazy inventions put together.”

“That wasn't an answer,” he whispered as he pressed his lips to her temple and inhaled the sweet scent of lilacs. “Tell me you'll marry me. It's all arranged. Your grandmother and Violet have seen to it, though I'm sure they've left some of the details for you to decide.”

Her giggle sent his heart soaring. “Why do I suspect you're telling the truth?”

His knee complained, and his arm throbbed, but he was determined to keep his pose until the frustrating woman said yes. “Why do I suspect you're stalling? What's it going to be, Flora. Will you let me make your wish come true?”

“The girl who loves the boy with the Irish eyes,” she breathed against his chest as she allowed Lucas to slip the ring on her finger, “says yes.”

Later there would be time for telegrams and wedding announcements. For plans to return the Brimm entourage to Brimmfield for the wedding. For discussing the home he was building for her on the Brimmfield property that would have an inventor's laboratory for him and a nursery he hoped they would someday fill with children who were born out of love and not duty to some relative's will.

And, of course, he would alert that Natchez reporter so as not to break the promise he'd offered regarding the scoop of the Brimm-McMinn nuptials. He even had the headline already planned: FLORA'S WISH COMES TRUE.