“I wasn’t skulking,” he replied, and tried to tug himself free, without any luck. Quinn held him fast and seemed more than eager to tear him limb from limb.
I recognized him from the picnic. He’d been the man who had made Emily unhappy, the man who we’d run off. What the hell was he doing here?
“Who are you and what are you doing on Bridgewater land?” Simon asked, standing to his very tall height. He made Xander and me seem like growing adolescents.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Emily stiffen, her back ramrod straight. Her fork clattered onto her plate. Based on the fact that neither Simon nor Quinn knew the man and Emily was not eager to see him—again—it was clear he was here because of her.
Xander must have come to the same conclusion because he stood when I did, our chairs scraping against the wood floor. I placed a hand on Emily’s small shoulder. I felt her shudder beneath my palm and was glad she was sheltered between us. If this man meant to harm her, he’d have to get past both of us, and all of the Bridgewater men in the room.
“Explain yourself,” Xander said, tossing his napkin onto the table.
The man turned his gaze to Emily and pointed a dirty, stubby finger. “She owes me money.”
I heard Emily gasp. How the hell did she get involved with this bastard? The answer didn’t matter at the moment. I just wanted him gone.
“How much?” I asked.
His eyes widened, then narrowed with obvious avarice. “Fifty dollars.”
Xander reached into his pocket and pulled out his billfold. Rounding the table, he counted out the money before handing it to the man. Xander didn’t step back, but loomed over him with his hands on his hips. With Quinn at his back, the man didn’t dare make trouble and he knew it.
“Consider yourself paid,” Xander said, his voice cold. “Now get the hell out of here.” He pointed toward the front door.
Quinn tugged on his shoulder, pulling him back toward the entry. “I’ll see that he gets off Bridgewater land.”
“Much obliged,” Xander said, with a nod of his head.
When the men’s steps could no longer be heard, Xander returned to his chair. “Sorry, Brody, Mason,” he nodded at both men. “I know this is your house and you should have been the ones to toss him out.”
Brody held up his hand. “You were protecting your woman.” He said nothing more as he glanced to Laurel in a way that said he’d have killed the man if he had been here for her.
“If you’ll excuse us, we have some things to discuss with our bride,” I said to the room at large. I was angry. Furious. Fucking frustrated.
I reached down and clasped Emily’s elbow with a gentleness that belied my mood, helping her to her feet, then guiding her out of the dining room. While she wasn’t resisting, she wasn’t eager either. Xander went down a long hall and stuck his head in one door, then another. We followed into an office and he closed the door behind us. Only the ticking of a clock on the mantel of an unlit fireplace made noise. That and Emily’s quick breaths.
“Who is he?” I asked, when we both turned to face her.
She looked down at the floor, her shoulders slumped. Her recently flushed cheeks were now pale.
“His name is Ralph.” The sound of her voice was nothing like a few moments earlier when she was joking with Simon.
“How do you know him?” Xander asked.
She spun around, her eyes wild as she pointed at herself. “Me? I don’t. Frank knew him.”
Shit. Her gambler husband owed the man money and he’d been pestering Emily for it. “Is that why he was talking with you at the picnic?”
She looked out the window, but nodded. Her hands played in the folds of her dress.
“Is that why you married us? So we’d pay your debt?” Xander’s words were harsh. It was an angle I hadn’t considered.
Shit. He thought she’d been using us. Perhaps she had. Without even knowing her answer, I could see why she’d done it, why a woman would choose us to protect her from the likes of that bastard. Xander, though, had a dark soul. He wasn’t trusting like I was. He’d trusted in the past and paid a terrible price.
“We’re rich. You knew that,” he continued.
She slowly lifted her head and met Xander’s hard stare. Her entire face held no expression, her eyes almost dead.
“You could have just asked.” Xander’s lips thinned as he ran a hand over his beard. “Any one of the Bridgewater men would have given him the money. You didn’t have to marry us.”