Miss Hastings' Excellent London Adventure (Brazen Brides Book 4)(29)

 

"Break?" Emma asked. "Do you mean I can challenge the new will?"

 

"Indeed you can," Emmott said.

 

"Then will you?" Adam asked the solicitor.

 

"I will immediately. The challenge will have to be done in Miss, er, Mrs. Birmingham's name."

 

Adam was relieved. "I was hoping this was something you'd be able to do. We'd prefer that the so-called new owner not take possession of my wife's uncle's house."

 

She nodded. "It's next door to us."

 

"I wouldn't want a scoundrel living next door to me, either," the solicitor said.

 

"We don't know he's a scoundrel," she offered.

 

Adam was not as charitable as his wife.

 

Emmott stood. "Allow me to get your signature on some papers, Mrs. Birmingham. It will take a moment to prepare the documents."

 

Ten minutes later, Adam and his wife were ready to leave when Emmott said, "I have worked with a man who's an expert in detecting forged handwriting. I want him to compare your uncle's letter to the new will."

 

Adam pursed his lips. "I would like to see some samples of Ashburnham's handwriting to compare also. Perhaps I'll place a large order for Ceylon Tea."

 

Emmott nodded. "If Ashburnham's hand is the same which prepared the new will, our Mr. Coyle will most certainly be able to determine that."

 

"I had no idea there was such a thing as a handwriting expert," Emma said.

 

"It's yet to stand up in court, to my knowledge, but it can be most helpful in ferreting out fraud."

 

"What's next?" Adam asked.

 

"Since I am acquainted with Wycliff, I'm going to go around to his establishment, explain that I’ve been retained by Mr. and Mrs. Birmingham, and ask to see the new will."

 

Adam thanked him, shook his hand, and left.

 

When they returned to the carriage, he directed the coachman to take them to Westminster Abbey, then turned to his wife. "How did you like Emmott?"

 

She frowned. "I wish Uncle Simon had employed him instead of Mr. Wycliff—not that Mr. Wycliff did not seem to be very nice."

 

What a sweet nature his Emma possessed. His? Why did he think on this woman he barely knew as his? Granted, he did seem to have taken her under his care in much the same way one did a lost puppy. And, according to the law, she was now his. How daunting.

 

He settled against the seat back. "Now, my dear wife, I begin your exploration of London with a visit to Westminster Abbey."

 

She seemed impossibly young as she looked up at him, not at all like a woman who would attain her majority within a year. "Just riding along in your coach, taking in the sights and sounds of the Capital is amusement enough for me. I could never, ever tire of London. It's the most exhilarating place on earth, is it not?"

 

"I have little basis for comparison, but I believe you're right. At least that's what I am told. My brother William has traveled to every European capital, and he assures me that nothing compares to London in every respect, particularly in its vastness."

 

She sighed. "I wonder if I'll ever know my way around."

 

He squeezed her hand. "You won't need to. You will always have a skilled coachman at your beck and call."

 

A look of admiration swept across her sweet little face. "Because I've had the good fortune to wed the wealthy Mr. Birmingham."

 

It had always been his fear that a woman would marry him for his fortune. That was most undoubtedly the case at present, but it no longer mattered to him. It wasn't as if it were to be a real marriage. It wasn't as if he were going to fall in love with her. He was happy his fortune would help her achieve her dreams. Lord knows his dreams had been snuffed when Maria left him. He fleetingly thought of Maria's beauty, of her angel-like voice when she sung arias. He tried to recall any plans he'd ever had of making her his wife. Unaccountably, it had never crossed his mind to marry her. Even though he loved her very much. Was that Nick's influence? Nick had always stressed that gentlemen did not marry women like Maria.

 

Even in the early days of their love affair, he had been aware that Maria had taken many lovers before him. It hadn't bothered the callow youth he'd been. He'd rather fancied being with an experienced woman to polish off his . . . accomplishments. Now he was startlingly aware of her matrimonial ineligibility. And it bothered him. Because now he didn't care. He only wanted her back. Even if she had wed her Italian nobleman.

 

If she were to return now and beg his forgiveness, he would not only forgive her, he would marry her without a moment's hesitation.

 

Then he suddenly realized he would never be able to marry Maria. He was a married man. Even though Emma did not love him, he could not reject her. She was like an abused pup for whom he felt solely responsible.