Handpicked Husband (Love Inspired Historical) Read online

  He gave her a cynical grin. “In fact, this was my ‘thirty pieces of silver’ from the judge you inquired about yesterday.”

  “Oh.” Instead of meeting his gaze, she shifted the blanket she carried to her other arm and patted the horse with her free hand. “Trib is an unusual name.”

  “The man I bought him from named him Lancer’s Tribute. Sounded too pompous to me, so I shortened it.” He bent to check the cinch straps. “Besides, Trib can stand for things that have more meaning to me, like ‘Retribution’ or ‘Tribulation.’”

  He didn’t realize he’d actually said that last aloud until he heard the slight hitch in her breathing. Her head came up and shock widened her expressive eyes. Her gaze locked with his, and something strong and elemental flashed in the air between them.

  A butterfly shiver fluttered her shoulders.

  That tiny quiver cleared the fog from his brain and brought him back to the present. Taking a deep breath, he smiled. “Time to round everyone up and get moving again.”

  She nodded and turned without saying a word.

  Adam watched her go, wondering what it was that had just passed between them.

  He rubbed the back of his neck. Three weeks seemed an eternity. He didn’t have time for this distraction, didn’t want to lose his focus, his edge.

  Jack ran up to Regina as she neared the carriages. She bent down and straightened his shirt collar. Then she gave him a hug and ruffled his hair affectionately.

  Adam reached back in his mind, trying to dredge up a memory of his own mother doing something similar.

  Nothing came.

  He’d been four years old when his mother abandoned him. His only memories of her were of a tired, unhappy woman. She’d clothed and fed him, but he couldn’t remember one time when she’d given him a motherly kiss or even an affectionate pat.

  Her dumping him on his uncle’s doorstep without a backward glance had widened the hole that already existed in his life.

  Well, his uncle had made up for that. Philip Barr hadn’t been an openly demonstrative man, but he’d always treated Adam well. Adam had known, as long as he did as he was told and followed all the rules, he’d have a home and a family.

  Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, Adam led Trib toward the road. He watched Regina organize the group, making certain everything was packed properly and all were accounted for.

  Then, as they moved toward the carriages, she touched Everett’s arm. “Mr. Fulton, why don’t you join me in my carriage?” She smiled at Chance. “You won’t mind trading places, will you?”

  So, she was ready for a new victim, was she?

  Chance gave her an elegant bow. “Whether or not I mind, I graciously concede the seat of honor to Everett.”

  She touched a hand to her chest. “Why, Chance, I didn’t realize there was the touch of the gallant in you.”

  It was the young man’s turn to give her a pointed look. “There are a lot of things you don’t know about me, Miss Nash.”

  Adam hid a grin at her nonplussed look. Regina was a resourceful woman, one who seemed accustomed to steering her own course, and perhaps that of the others around her. It probably wasn’t often she was forced to question her own perceptions.

  “All right, folks,” he called out. “Time to get back on the road.”

  Regina shot him an affronted look, just as he’d known she would. But her momentary self-doubt was gone.

  He wasn’t sure why that mattered to him.

  * * *

  As soon as they left the meadow behind them, Reggie began her interrogation of Everett. “Tell me, Mr. Fulton, are you truly British, or is that accent just part of your carefully constructed image?”

  “No need to sound so disdainful.” He gave the reins a flick. “We all construct facades of one type or another. Some of us are just better at it.”

  “That’s a rather cynical attitude, don’t you think?”

  “Not at all. For instance, the facade you wear of being reluctantly cooperative, while you are plotting how to have your own way is quite convincing.”

  She wasn’t sure how to respond to that one.

  “And to answer your question,” he continued, “my parents were both British. I lived the first twelve years of my life on an estate about an hour’s ride from London.”

  “And what brought you to America?”

  “A ship called the Lucky Star, if memory serves me,” he replied blandly.

  Reggie’s lips twitched in spite of herself. “You may consider me impertinent, sir, but if I’m to make the choice my grandfather saddled me with, then I should be armed with as much information as I can gather.”

  “I only thought to spare you a sordid, embarrassing story.”

  “Embarrassing for whom?” When he didn’t answer she pressed further. “Remember, by the terms of the contract, you are obligated to answer my questions truthfully.”

  His lips compressed into a tight line, then he gave a short nod. “Very well. My father is a prominent member of the British aristocracy, my mother was an actress. They were not married, either before or after my birth.”

  So, he was the illegitimate son of an English lord. That explained a lot.

  “When I turned twelve, Father finally decided to take a wife. Unfortunately, it was not my mother, and his new bride took a dim view of his continued closeness to her.” Everett shrugged. “So we were shipped an ocean away to start a new life.”

  Reggie felt her heart go out to the boy he had been and the hurt that had been dealt him.

  She must have made some sound of sympathy because he gave her a cynical smile. “No need to feel sorry for me. That was a long time ago. And Father gave my mother enough money to ensure that we could make a nice place for ourselves when we arrived.”

  Slamming the lid on her sympathetic feelings, Reggie jumped at the opening he’d just given her. “Just as Grandfather did when he sent you here.”

  Her companion stiffened. “Nobody sent me here. This time it was my choice.”

  “Was it? Why would a man who so obviously appreciates the finer things in life, willingly come to a place like Turnabout?”

  “Are you saying your fair town has none of life’s ‘finer things’?”

  He was good at turning her words back on her. But she wasn’t about to let him get away with it. “Don’t play word games with me. I’m quite happy with the life Turnabout offers. But I’ve visited Philadelphia several times and I know what so-called amenities are lacking here by comparison.”

  He stared straight ahead. “You might want to be careful, your facade is slipping. A bit of the single-minded bulldog is showing through.”

  An unflattering comparison, but not completely inaccurate. She’d have to watch this one.

  “Well?” she pressed, ignoring his comment.

  He gave her a you’re-not-fooling-me look. Then he acknowledged her question with a nod. “It’s no coincidence your grandfather is setting me up with a printing press. I worked for a prominent newspaper for over ten years, the last seven as a reporter.”

  “Why did you leave?”

  “Because I was asked to,” he said bluntly. Without waiting for her to prompt him, he expanded on his surprising revelation. “I wrote a sordidly sensational piece about one of our local politicians that stirred up quite a furor.”

  “And they fired you over that?”

  His smile was mirthless. “Oh, no. That they liked. Sold lots of newspaper for them. The trouble came when the story turned out not to be true.” His jaw tightened. “Seems I wasn’t very diligent in checking my sources.”

  “Oh.” Ran him out on a rail, did they? “Given your, shall we say, colorful, background, what makes you think you’d be a good father to Jack?”

  He speared her with a searching look. “Interesting that you should focus on the role of father rather than that of husband.”

  Reggie straightened. “Nothing odd about it. I’m a grown woman, quite capable of dealing with whatever unpl
easantness may come my way.” She took a smidgeon of satisfaction at his wince. “I’m much more concerned that Jack doesn’t suffer from this ridiculous matchmaking scheme.”

  “To answer your question, I consider myself a man who learns life’s lessons quickly. I don’t make the same mistakes twice, and I don’t knowingly betray others’ trust.” He shrugged. “Never having been a father before, that’s the best answer I can give you.”

  “Well, that’s an honest enough response, I suppose.”

  Reggie caught a movement from the corner of her eye and turned to watch Adam, who’d been talking to Ira, ride past and take the lead again. There was something commanding about the easy grace with which he sat in the saddle, about the way he automatically assumed leadership of their group, not only in terms of physical position but in looking out for their welfare.

  Even back when he’d been her grandfather’s protégé, he’d carried an air of quiet authority. Surprisingly, his time in prison appeared to have honed and tempered that part of his character rather than leeching it from him.

  No doubt, that was one reason her grandfather had chosen him for this job.

  She remembered listening to Adam and other young men argue points of law in her grandfather’s drawing room. Adam had always been so passionate, so articulate, it had seemed to her that he talked rings around everyone else.

  She hadn’t been able to take her eyes off him back then.

  Reggie gave herself a mental shake. Surely she was a stronger person now.

  Resolutely, she turned her attention back to Everett.

  Chapter Seven

  “...Newspaper would be an absolutely wonderful thing for Turnabout, Mr. Fulton. In fact...”

  “...to have such polished, eligible gentlemen, looking to make Turnabout their home...”

  “...tell us about Philadelphia. Is it really...”

  Adam skirted the edges of the gathering, catching snippets of conversation here and there. He was doing his level best to keep from being collared by any of the dozens of Turnabout’s finest now crowding Regina Nash’s lawn.

  Once upon a time he’d felt at home at gatherings such as this. He’d prided himself on how far he’d come from his humble beginnings. He’d thrived on the interaction with the educated and social elite of Philadelphia.

  All that had disappeared, of course. The only respectable home in Philadelphia that still opened its doors to him was Judge Madison’s. Old friends, when they bothered to acknowledge him at all, did so with frigid politeness or uncomfortable nervousness.

  Would the people currently strolling around Regina’s back lawn still offer friendly smiles, warm welcomes and open invitations to visit if they knew his history? Even though he knew himself innocent of the charges against him, he still felt like a fraud, as if he were here under false pretenses.

  It would always be that way, until he cleared his name. Which made this little expedition more than just an irritant. Every day, every hour he was away from Philadelphia meant that much more of a delay in clearing his name.

  He shook off those thoughts. No point chafing at things he couldn’t change.

  Regina’s friends had welcomed them all with open arms. His three companions were at least putting on a good show of enthusiasm for the town and its citizenry. Even Mitchell had relaxed enough to smile and chat with the other guests. Now that the game was on, they all seemed serious about wanting this “fresh start” to work.

  Adam scooped up a ball that had escaped from Jack and his friends. He tossed it back to them, then moved on before the pair of matrons walking purposefully his way could corner him.

  No doubt about it, Regina’s garden party was a success. The adults chattered with the “honored guests” or each other in ever-shifting clusters. The food table was visited frequently and the punch bowl refilled at regular intervals. Even the children seemed to be enjoying themselves as they played on one end of the lawn.

  “...having a party so soon after Lemuel’s death is pushing the bounds of propriety.”

  Adam paused, frowning at the three ladies standing nearby. Was this the opinion held by most of Regina’s neighbors?

  “Oh, for goodness sake, Eula Fay, it’s no such thing,” one of the other women said.

  “Lemuel’s been gone for four months now,” the third woman added. “He wasn’t even Reggie’s blood kin. Besides, she has an obligation to her grandfather to see...”

  Adam moved on, satisfied the self-righteous Eula Fay was in the minority. He wouldn’t want to be responsible for setting tongues wagging any more than necessary.

  He’d marked this Eula Fay though. If he remembered right, she was Mayor Sanders’s wife. He’d do some digging to find out if she had a particular axe to grind with the judge’s granddaughter. Not that it would be hard to imagine the outspoken Miss Nash making a few enemies among her acquaintances.

  “There you are, Mr. Barr.”

  Adam looked around to find the subject of his thoughts approaching with a man, woman and young lady in tow. As if to confirm his earlier thoughts she had a wicked glint in her eye that belied her otherwise bland expression.

  “I believe you met Reverend Harper after the service this morning,” she continued in her best hostess voice.

  Adam gave her a long, steady look, then bowed to the inevitable. He offered his hand to the gray-haired, scholarly-looking gentleman. “Good afternoon, sir. That was a fine sermon today.”

  The reverend took his hand and pumped it vigorously before releasing it. Where Adam had expected an air of dignified solemnity, he spied an unexpected trace of good humor in the cleric’s expression. “Thank you, Mr. Barr. That’s most kind of you to say. Please allow me to introduce my wife, Anna, and my daughter, Constance.”

  Adam greeted the sweet-faced woman on the reverend’s arm and the spectacle-wearing adolescent at his side.

  Regina gave him a my-job-is-done-here smile. “I’ll leave you to get acquainted while I check on some of the other guests.”

  Adam watched her walk away, sourly amused by her skillful manipulation. She didn’t go far, though, pausing to speak to a group standing just a few feet away. Did she plan to keep an eye on him? Was this a test of some sort?

  “So, Mr. Barr, what is your interest in our town?”

  Adam turned back to Reverend Harper, though part of his attention remained focused on Regina. “Sir?”

  “Mr. Fulton is looking into the possibility of starting a newspaper. Mr. Parker is considering the position we have for a new teacher. And young Chance seems interested in the Blue Bottle Saloon building.” He waved a hand. “I just wonder where your interests lie.”

  This wasn’t the first time today Adam had been asked that question. He trotted out the response he’d used earlier. “I’m afraid I’m just along on this trip for the company. I’m not looking to relocate at this time. There’s too much unfinished business waiting for me in Philadelphia.”

  “Ah, our loss, I suppose. But I hope you enjoy your visit. How long do you plan to be here?”

  “About a month, give or take.” He watched Regina from the corner of his eye. “Actually, I made the trip more as a favor to Miss Nash’s grandfather than anything else. He asked me to check on how she and Jack are faring since Mr. Willis’s death. Judge Madison is naturally concerned since there’s no man to look out for them now.”

  Regina’s back stiffened as if an invisible string had jerked her upright. So she was eavesdropping.

  “Mother?” The girl pushed her glasses higher on the bridge of her nose. “Is it all right if I go visit with Rosie?”

  The reverend’s wife nodded indulgently. “Run along, dear.” Then she turned to her husband and Adam. “If you gentlemen will excuse me, I want to ask Doris Greene how her son is doing.” She smiled at Adam. “Mr. Barr, it was very nice to meet you.”

  Adam bowed. “My pleasure, ma’am.” Now if he could disentangle himself from her husband as easily.

  But Reverend Harper seemed in no hur
ry to move on. “If I may be so bold as to ask, what sort of work do you do in Philadelphia?”

  Adam hesitated a heartbeat, very aware of Regina’s within-earshot presence. Then he carefully schooled his features. “I’m a lawyer by profession.”

  Regina had half turned in his direction as he spoke. Had she been on the verge of rescuing him? Or unmasking him?

  Her gaze met his briefly, then she turned back to the woman at her side. Regardless of her original impulse, it seemed Miss Nash had decided to let his story stand.

  “Ah,” Reverend Harper reclaimed his attention. “I see why Reggie’s grandfather entrusted you to check on matters here. You may rest assured, she and Jack are well taken care of. That’s one thing about a small town, folks look out for their neighbors.” He gave Adam a just-between-us smile. “And Reggie is quite a resourceful young lady. I’m sure she’ll manage things with ease.”

  Resourceful—Adam supposed that was one way to describe her.

  The reverend stroked his chin. “You know, Turnabout could certainly use a lawyer. A shame you’re not looking to make your home here.” He held up a hand. “Not that we have a lot of crime, mind you. Turnabout’s a peaceful community. But there are always legal matters to settle—land claims, contract interpretation, that sort of thing.”

  Adam refrained from comment. Until he managed to clear his name, he didn’t figure he’d be anyone’s choice as an advocate on legal matters. Which only drove home again how much better he could be spending his time if he were in Philadelphia.

  Reverend Harper gave a self-deprecating smile. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to go on with all that arm-twisting. I’m sure you have a much more exciting practice back in Philadelphia than what we could offer here.”

  Thankfully, the reverend was hailed just then and excused himself from Adam’s side.

  Adam moved toward the refreshments, carefully sidestepping groups of chattering guests, and helped himself to a glass of punch.

  Regina appeared at his elbow and refilled her own punch glass. Was she going to chide him for his evasiveness?

  “Enjoying yourself?” she asked instead.