She turned her back and walked toward the lounge bar doors.

I walked into the corridor leading to the private library, where David Vance stepped out into the carpeted hallway.

David adjusted his cufflinks and stepped closer to me with his practical civil engineer’s posture.

“Clare is upstairs in the bridal dressing room finishing her gown alterations,” David said in his low voice.

“Did Gerald try to hand you the estate waiver?”

“He offered me forty-two thousand a year to check commercial insurance policies,” I said.