Handpicked Husband. Winnie Griggs
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after all. Instead, he’d come as her grandfather’s agent.
But why wasn’t he a candidate for her hand? Not that she wanted the ex-lawyer for a suitor. But still—did he think she wasn’t good enough for him? Or was Grandfather not as certain of the man’s character as he pretended?
Flicking the paper with a snap, Reggie read on. Grandfather had tasked Adam with escorting her “beaus” to Turnabout, making sure everyone understood the rules of the game, and then seeing that the rules were followed.
It was also his job to take Jack back to Philadelphia if she balked at the judge’s terms. Her grandfather would then pick out a suitable boarding school for the boy, robbing her of even the opportunity to share a home with him in Philadelphia.
Reggie cast a quick glance Adam’s way, and swallowed hard. She had no doubt he would carry out his orders right down to the letter.
No! That would not happen. Even if it meant she had to face the humiliation of a forced wedding, she wouldn’t let Jack be taken from her.
And hang Grandfather, he knew it.
One last surprise was buried in the closing. It seemed the forewarning she was supposed to get had been Adam’s idea and the judge had only pretended to go along. There never had been another letter. Grandfather freely admitted this, saying he knew better than to give her time to begin plotting a way to avoid her fate.
It took every ounce of control she had not to crumple the letter and fling it as far as she could. Of all the emotions boiling through her right now, the strongest was a deep frustration that Grandfather wasn’t standing here so she could give him a piece of her mind.
Gathering her outrage about her like battle armor, Reggie stood. Her gaze locked with that of the man who suddenly wielded so much power over her life.
She would not let him know how deeply betrayed, how humiliated she felt. “I assume you know about this scheme of my grandfather’s?” The flicker of relief in his expression wasn’t lost on her.
Happy not to have to explain things, was he?
He crossed his arms and leaned back. “Yes.”
She stalked closer, displeased with his one-word answer. “Then you know how completely irrational he’s being.”
“The judge has never struck me as an irrational man.” He shrugged those broad shoulders of his. “Autocratic and overbearing perhaps, but not irrational.”
Reggie was no longer in the mood for word games. She shook the letter in his face. “You don’t think playing matchmaker in this heavy-handed fashion irrational?”
He didn’t even blink. “I’m sure he has his reasons.”
“Reasons!” Realizing she’d shouted, Reggie took a deep breath and tried again. “He’s asking me to choose between hog-tying myself to one of these strangers or losing Jack.”
He remained unmoved. “Arranged marriages happen all the time. At least you get three to choose from.”
Reggie wanted to scream, to pound her fists against his chest, to claw his eyes out. Was the man made of stone? She hadn’t expected an overabundance of sympathy, but his calm attitude was infuriating. “Would it surprise you to learn that Grandfather lied to you about sending me word ahead of time?”
His brow drew down, but there was no other visible reaction. “And how would you know this?”
She shoved the letter toward him, pointing to the pertinent paragraph. “Because he told me.”
Adam glanced at the letter and she saw a flicker of something cross his face. But when he looked up, his expression held that same unshakable determination. “As I said, I’m sure he has his reasons.”
Reggie was determined to cut through his indifference. “So what do you get out of this blackmail scheme?”
His eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?”
She moved closer. “According to the letter, your companions are getting nice incentives to participate.” She fisted her hands on her hips. “What form does your thirty pieces of silver take?”
His ice-blue eyes stared at her with irritating dispassion. “Not that it’s any of your business, but I’m doing this mainly because the judge asked me to, and I owe him.” He tipped his hat back and crossed his ankles. “It’s as simple as that.”
“You owe him?” Reggie lowered her arms and glared. How she itched to wipe that calm expression from his too-handsome face.
The fact that he could still stir something in her besides anger only made this whole mess more maddening.
Reggie sniffed. “Because he stood by you during the trial, you mean?”
If she’d wanted to get an emotional reaction from him, she’d finally succeeded. He stiffened, his jaw clenched, and he looked as if he’d like to throttle her.
* * *
Adam felt that sense of injustice, of being branded unclean, of honor lost, wash over him again. He’d expected to be the target of her emotions once she read the letter, could even admire her for reacting with outrage rather than helpless tears.
But her disdain gnawed at him.
Foolishly, he’d assumed Miss Nash shared her grandfather’s opinion on his conviction. The exchanges they’d had up until now had only reinforced that assumption. They’d been heated and challenging, but had seemed tempered by a degree of mutual respect.
Apparently he’d read her wrong.
So be it. He’d quit trying to change people’s minds about his innocence with mere words long ago. It was proof he needed, and proof he was determined to get. Just as soon as he finished this business and could get back to Philadelphia.
“The relationship I have with the judge,” he said evenly, “and what it’s based on, is also none of your business. As I’m sure it states in that letter you’re waving around, he trusts me enough to send me here to preside over this arrangement.”
“But not enough to be completely honest with you.”
He tightened his jaw, but let that barb pass. “What does concern you are the terms the judge outlined, and my duty to see them carried out as he intended.”
She narrowed her eyes. “So, just like that, I’m supposed to line up three strangers, look them over, and pick one to be my husband.”
If only she’d get it over with that quickly.
But an adversarial attitude wouldn’t help him. Time to use the two main tools he’d learned as a lawyer—reason and persuasion. “I understand this is not the best situation to find yourself in. But you must know your grandfather would never send you a man he didn’t have complete confidence in.”
She raised a skeptical brow and he hurried on. “That being so, it’s a given that any one of them should to make you a good husband. And they won’t be strangers forever. After all, you have two weeks to get to know them.”
The thought of having to cool his heels here even that long was frustrating. He’d already had to wait for what seemed an eternity.
“Two weeks,” she repeated, her voice ending on a squeak.
He grimaced as the color drained from her face. So, Judge Madison hadn’t put everything in his letter after all. Hang the old conniver for his sly games.
“According to the terms your grandfather has laid down,” he explained, “you have two weeks to select your groom, and then another week to plan your wedding.”
“All the time in the world,” she said bitterly.
She looked so brittle—vulnerable almost. He felt an unwanted stirring of sympathy, but pushed it ruthlessly aside.
“There’s no point fighting