” His voice had a British accent. Maybe Scottish. The hand on her mouth released its pressure gradually but the knife pressed threateningly against ...er ribs.“What do you want and how did you know my name?” Rebecca asked with her arm still upraised.“It’s a matter of public record. I try to know everyone the old man knows. Traveling to Scotland this summer, are you?”“That’s not public record.”The man carefully straightened her arm down by her side and began lightly stroking it.“There now, that’s. He smiled. “Sweetheart, you’re getting married in half an hour. You’re in your wedding dress. You have makeup on.”“You can just lift my dress,” she said. “I’m so nervous, Bobby. I’ll screw everything up!”“Come on, Mary,” he said, softly. “You can do this.”“I needed you last night,” she moaned. “But Mamma kept me up, and then Flo wanted to talk. Please, Bobby. One last time. We won’t be able to do it after I get married, and you always calm me down so well.”“You can’t lie down in that dress,” he. More

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