Wedded in Sin by Jade Lee

what?”
    The bastard nodded—obviously feeling a masculine kinship with Samuel in the need to avoid female hysterics—and quickly opened his office door. Ned and Samuel together led Penny to a chair as if she hadn’t spent most of her life hauling wood and working leather. She sat gingerly in the seat, more because she wanted room to leap up and scratch the bastard’s eyes out than because she was feeling “delicate.” Either way, Samuel and Ned hovered solicitously over her while Addicock went straight to the pile that held the will.
    He pulled it out and waved it at her face without really showing her the document. “Here’s the will.” He pointed to the bottom. “Here’s your father’s signature.” He pointed again. “Here’s my name. Makes me guardian of young Tommy. That means I control his money completely. Everything he owns goes through me and I’ll take care of him right and tight.”
    She reached for the document, but he set it behind him on his desk. Then at an arch look from Samuel, he huffed, grabbed it again, and handed it over. To Samuel.
    Men!
    “I don’t understand,” she said. “Why would my father do this?”
    “Well, somebody has to look after Tommy.”
    She glared at the man. “I have been. Every night. Every day.”
    The man had the grace to flush, but that didn’t stop him from softening his expression in the warmest, kindest way. It was startling really. She knew he was a scoundrel, possibly a murderer, and yet, he was also rather handsome in a fatherly kind of way.
    “I know this is hard, Miss Shoemaker. You have been doing an excellent job of raising Tommy, but I was referring to his financial affairs. Even if you could manage to sort through the mess of documents…” He gestured behind him to the piles that she knew for a fact had nothing to do with Tommy. “You have enough to do with his daily care. This needs to be handled by a man who understands finances and the law.” Then he paused, tilting his head in the way a kindly uncle might. “Miss Shoemaker, don’t you remember me? Your father and I were friends. We used to meet at Bert Harvey’s pub, but surely you remember me.”
    She did, now that she was looking at him. He’d come around the shop many times. Bought a pair of boots, but never paid, as she recalled. And yes, he and her father had seemed friendly enough. But then her father had been friends with anyone who might be a customer. Still, with all eyes on her, she was forced to nod. “I remember you,” she pushed through a constricted throat. “But I don’t remember anything about a will.”
    “Well, not the thing to speak of to a delicate woman,” he said gently. “Talk of death is always upsetting to the fairer sex.”
    Beside her, Samuel nodded. “This seems to be in order. Who are these gentlemen here? The witnesses? John Smithee and Thomas Baker.”
    Penny wanted to know that, too. “I don’t know them.”
    “Hmm? Oh, friends of your father’s,” Addicock answered. “This will was done at the pub, you know. And on a Sunday. Didn’t even want to come to the office. But it’s filed, you know. All legal like.”
    Bollocks , Penny snarled in her thoughts.
    “So you never met them before?” Samuel pressed. Then he turned to the boy. “What about you, Ned? Ever seen them or heard of them before?”
    Ned shook his head. “But I wouldn’t. Not if it were done at a pub.”
    “Well, then I suppose all that’s left is to sort out the details of Miss Shoemaker’s monthly allowance and the delivery of cash from the sale of her home.”
    Addicock jerked in what was obviously a practiced move. “What?” he gasped overly loud. Truly the man had no future on the stage. He was a terrible actor. “What sale?”
    “A Mr. Cordwain appeared just this morning with armed men and the constable. He took possession of the Shoemaker store and all the property contained within. Had all the right documents with him.”
    “Couldn’t have!” Addicock