Jade looked a touch shaken as well. “The buyer used an American broker but has an address outside of Paris.”

Arthur pursed his lips. “Paris again.”

Jade spread her hands. “This could all be a coincidence.”

“Sure it could,” Arthur muttered.

Rory had been expecting to take the train, but Arthur had wanted to drive to Boston. “Being able to drive anywhere I want is something I love about America,” he said sheepishly. “I’ve never bought a car overseas. It just never feels like I’ll be in one place long enough to make it worth owning one.”

Rory had side-eyed him. “I thought you weren’t expecting to be overseas again yet.”

Arthur had gotten cagey and just muttered, “Well, you know.”

Which no, Rory didn’t know, and he’d very much like to know, thanks. But sitting in the comfy Cadillac, with Arthur in his tweed jacket and flat cap being excited about driving his car, just the two of them for three hours—Rory was a sucker for it, so he wasn’t gonna argue.

They got a room with two beds in a hotel near the old stone church where Mrs. Brodigan would get married in the morning. It was a big enough hotel, and cheap enough, that no one paid them any attention, even if that also meant the beds were really too tiny for two men to share.

In the morning, with Arthur down in the lobby, making some calls, Rory did his best to clean up in the men’s bathroom, trimming his hair just enough to make the curls even. He didn’t have a fancy hat, but he was gonna be in a church anyway, so he’d just deal. He showered, shaved, and put on the secondhand gray suit he’d found for six dollars at a store by the Dragon House. It was more than he’d ever spent on clothes in his life, but it fit decent, and most of all, it was for Mrs. B.

He got back to their room to find Arthur leaning over the bed and securing the clasps on the suitcase. “Since there’s no reception, I’ll pick you up at the church after the ceremony,” he said, looking up. “And remember, you promised to take the ring—oh.” He blinked several times. “Hi. Hello.”

Rory rolled his eyes. “Just ’cause I don’t usually wear suits doesn’t mean I can’t.” He leaned on the door to close it behind him. “I used to dress for church all the time.”

“Did you.” The corner of Arthur’s mouth turned up in his sly smile, and a moment later he was across their small room, hands on the door above Rory’s head to box him in. “I’m afraid I’m not thinking about church right now.”