Salt nudged Penny’s elbow.
“Grant Atherwald,” he contributed, jerking his head toward a tall, well-built young man who had stepped from the car. “I’ve seen his picture plenty of times.”
“The bridegroom?” Penny turned to stare.
“Sure. He’s one of the blue-bloods, but they say he’s a little short on ready cash.”
The young man, dressed immaculately in formal day attire, and accompanied by two other men, came aboard the launch. He bowed politely to the elderly women and his gaze fell questioningly upon Penny and Salt. But if he wondered why they were there, he did not voice his thought.
As the boat put out across the river Penny watched Grant Atherwald curiously. It seemed to her that he appeared nervous and preoccupied. He stared straight before him, clenching and unclenching his hands. His face was colorless and drawn.
“He’s nervous and worried,” thought Penny. “I guess all bridegrooms are like that.”
A sharp “click” sounded in her ear. Penny did not turn toward Salt, but she caught her breath, knowing what he had done. He had dared to take a picture of Grant Atherwald!
She waited, feeling certain that the sound must have been heard by everyone in the boat. A full minute elapsed and no one spoke. When Penny finally glanced at Salt he was gazing serenely out across the muddy water, his miniature camera shielded behind a felt hat which he held on his knees.
The boat docked. Salt and Penny allowed the others to go ashore first, and then followed a narrow walk which wound through a deep lane of evergreen trees.