Tilly scoffed a laugh. Declan fixed his gaze on her. Suddenly, he turned to Tilly. “Oh, darling,” he said, “I’m sorry to do this at such late notice but something has come up and I’m going to have to postpone our lunch.” Gaze flickering between both women, he leaned closer, as though he were about to share the secrets of the universe. “One of the parishioners has been struggling after giving birth and her husband has asked me to visit with them.”

Pulling back, Kate blinked twice. Seriously? When her little sister had developed postnatal depression at just eighteen, requesting a visit from the local vicar hadn’t exactly been the top priority in getting Beccy the help she so desperately needed. “Maybe you could suggest she see a doctor,” Kate said.

It made her blood boil, the way he chuckled condescendingly. “That’s already been taken care of,” he assured her, then held up his palms. “I’m good,” he claimed, “but I’m not a miracle worker.”

“That we know of,” Tilly inserted, and Kate’s eyes snapped from Declan to Tilly. What was that, Kate wondered. Was that Tilly flirting? With her own fiancé? The audacity.

“I’m sorry, Tilly,” he said. “I do hate to cancel our plans at the last minute…”

“It’s perfectly fine,” Tilly assured him. “Really, Declan, you needn’t worry.”

Needn’t worry? Please. Tilly’s demeanour was so falsely polite that Kate fought the impulse to roll her eyes. What was this? An interaction with her fiancé, or an audition for Meet Me in St. Louis? Kate slid her hands into her front pockets. Should I expect Judy Garland to show up? For Tilly to ride off to Mornington Pier singing The Trolley Song?

“I’ll call you later on?” he said.

Tilly nodded. She bent and kissed Lily, drew her into a tight hug that had the little girl giggling as Tilly planted kisses across her cheeks.

When Declan had gone, heading across the grass with his daughter to greet a group of parishioners, Tilly glanced at Kate. Forcing a smile, she exhaled deeply and looked around until her gaze landed on the sisters of St. Joan of Arc. The tight-knit group had congregated in the shade by the side door and were deep in conversation with a few parishioners. Quietly, Tilly watched the group, as though she were torn between joining them and remaining at Kate’s side.

There it was, laid out before Kate and hers for the taking—the opportunity to have Tilly all to herself for the afternoon if she was brave enough to ask for it. She stole a furtive glance. The sight of Tilly’s profile as she licked her lips set a fluttering low in Kate’s belly. A sense of urgency gripped her. “Are you just planning on going back home now?” she asked. “To St. Joan’s?”

Tilly’s body angled toward Kate and their eyes met. “Yes.” Her gaze remained locked on Kate’s, as though she was waiting for Kate to grasp the opportunity to say more.