Their Stolen Bride (Bridgewater Ménage 7)

“Good,” the judge said, glancing at Parker. “You brought a witness.”

I was not going to clarify that he was much more than a witness, for I did not want all of our secrets to be shared. I felt confident that the man would not go blabbering about the Millard heiress’ secret wedding, for whatever he did with Elise had to be quite licentious to ensure it. But that didn’t mean I wished for him to have anything to hold over us.

The judge looked to me. “While I know Miss Millard, please state your name.”

“Adam Sullivan.”

The man’s eyes widened and he swallowed visibly. “Adam… Sullivan?” The judge practically squeaked the last and took a small step back. Mary looked up at me

, a frown creasing her smooth brow. It was obvious she did not know me or what I’d done. “Gregory Millard’s daughter is marrying Shooter Sullivan?”

I took a step toward the judge and the older man cowered. Yes, he knew of me well. “Is there a problem, Judge?”

The judge shook his head so hard his lips quivered.

Miss Rose’s eyebrow winged up and then she laughed. “This is… excellent.”

Mary frowned. “What? I don’t understand. Do you all know each other?”

“Your husband-to-be is quite famous in these parts. An outlaw, some say,” Miss Rose informed Mary. Her shrewd gaze flicked up to me. “How many of your own men did you kill?”

She didn’t look horrified by my dangerous past, instead quite amused.

“Four,” I replied, stepping back and immediately taking hold of Mary’s elbow.

She tried to retreat, but I would have none of it. Without the details, my actions sounded horrific, and I could only imagine what she was imagining.

I’d been part of the US Cavalry and some of the men had gone rogue, taking Indian relations into their own hands. When I’d come upon the men raping and killing at one Indian encampment, I’d defended the innocent. I shot the four men before they could do any more harm. They weren’t army men, they were bastards who preyed on the weak. They’d been sick in the head and I’d kill them all over again.

Before the inquest, I’d been painted the enemy, instead of the men who’d done such horrible deeds. Ultimately, I’d been cleared, but released from service. They’d considered me a danger. After that, the story of what I did spread and changed, making me into an aggressive beast of a man, killing anything and anyone that angered me.

Thus, the judge’s fear, for he believed the tall tales. In this instance, I was glad the man was so afraid, for he had much more at stake—at least he assumed so—than his wife discovering his infidelity.

I didn’t care about the stories or the legend I’d become. I wanted a quiet life, a simple life. And I’d have it, if we could just get the judge to get on with it. But Mary’s fears needed to be allayed. I wouldn’t have her afraid of me.

I looked down at my fearful bride, tried to soften my voice. “There is much to tell you, and now’s not the time with such an audience. But those four men, they were hurting, killing innocent people. I stopped them. As for you, you never have to fear me. Never. Isn’t that right, Miss Rose?”

I kept my eyes on Mary, not wanting her to think I was hiding anything. I held my breath, for I knew how my past continued to return to the fore and be a nuisance. To tear Mary away from me because of it was something else entirely.

Miss Rose nodded. “That’s right, doll. If Sullivan’s your husband, you’ll never have to worry about your father again. About anyone. You’re safe with him. Right, Judge?”

Mary wouldn’t have to worry about her father any longer because the man would be too afraid of me to do her harm. If someone dared hurt her, it was our job, our privilege, to make her happy.

The judge shut his mouth, which had been hanging open, and nodded. “That’s right. Mr. Sullivan knows how to protect you.”

Mary bit her lip, debated. Her face was so expressive. While I could see no fear in her pale gaze, she was confused and nervous. Both of those things could be resolved soon enough. She just had to accept my word. To accept me, just as I was. I was a patient man, but it was hard to wait for Mary’s decision. Only when the ceremony was complete and we had her alone would she discover how devoted we were.

Taking a deep breath, Mary nodded. “All right.”

Fuck, I was relieved. To have been rejected by the woman whom I’d promised to protect would have been crushing. She believed in me, enough to marry me. I couldn’t help but grin. I released her arm and stroked my knuckles down her cheek once again.

“Good girl,” I murmured, and she smiled, her cheeks turning pink at the praise.

The judge began the ceremony, spoke the words quickly he knew by rote. This would be a very short ceremony. The judge wanted it done. I wanted it done. I was sure Parker had been nervous there for a bit as well. Surely he wanted Mary as ours as soon as possible, too.

She was so beautiful, so self-assured, standing beside me. She accepted her fate, accepted that this was what was best for her, that we were the best for her. I was so proud of her, so in awe of her strength.

When the vows were said, I leaned in and kissed her, chastely and quickly, but not before feeling the softness of her lips or hearing the little gasp that escaped. Mary had closed her eyes and when she opened them, they were blurred with newfound passion. It was a heady moment, knowing I’d made her look that way. I could only imagine how she’d look when I really kissed her.