The Bad Luck Wedding Night, Bad Luck Wedding series #5 (Bad Luck Abroad trilogy) Read Free

Hotel, streaks of scarlet, orange, and gold painted the western sky. Wagons rattled up Main Street, while from the direction of Hell's Half Acre came the tinny sound of piano music and an occasional raucous shout that heralded the beginnings of a hell-raisin' Saturday night.
    Nick resisted the urge to tug at his collar. "It is a beautiful evening."
    "Yes, and I trust it will stay that way." Michael Banks opened his suit coat and removed a cigar from an inner pocket. After going through the ritual of lighting it, he blew out a pair of smoke rings and said, "You have a challenge ahead of you, son. I hate to say it, but the girl is spoiled."
    Nick immediately jumped to her defense. "She's high-spirited."
    "That, too. Make no mistake, I love her like she's my own, but the girl has suffered from not having a father around. Not that her mother didn't do her best, but Sarah was a willful child and my sister never learned how to say no. Take an old man's advice, young Nick, and teach her the meaning of the word from the git-go. Otherwise, you'll pay for it for the rest of your life."
    Nick relaxed a bit with the unexpected direction the conversation had taken. It turned out he relaxed too soon.
    Banks blew a puff of ratafia-scented smoke his way, then abruptly demanded. "Who are your people?"
    Now Nick gave in to the urge to pull at his collar. "My people, sir?"
    "Your family. The Rosses. My sister says you claim to be a Scot, but she mentioned some confusion about English parents, too. While I don't hold a man's character hostage to his family background, I do consider it something important to know. So, tell me about your family, Mr. Ross. Who is your father?"
    Nick bristled at the older man's words. He refused to ruin this happy day with talk of his sire. "I'd rather not."
    After two more puffs on the cigar, Banks asked, "What are you hiding?"
    "Not a blessed thing. Sarah knows of my past. She has a right to know." Left unsaid was the charge that her uncle didn't share that right.
    It didn't deter Michael Banks. "I understand you purchased the Seven-F Ranch just last month. You have family money?"
    Nick sidestepped the question and attempted to guide the conversation in another direction. "I promised Sarah we'd live within a half day's ride from her mother. Since it's been just her and Mrs. Simpson for so long, Sarah is worried about leaving her mother alone in the house. In fact, we asked if she'd want to move out to the ranch with us, but she declined. Mrs. Simpson has worked hard to establish her private school, and she loves teaching. Although, after the way those McBride children acted at the wedding today, I am inclined to wonder why. Now I know why townspeople refer to them as the McBride Menaces."
    Sarah's uncle didn't take the bait. "I understand there's no mortgage on your land. What did you do, Ross, rob a stage or two?"
    Nick smiled grimly. "I have my own money."
    "From what source?"
    Nosy old fellow. Nick wanted to tell him to go to the devil. But because he understood the man's need to protect Sarah, Nick sighed heavily and surrendered. "All right, Mr. Banks. I'll speak of my family skeletons once, then never again. Two years ago, I discovered my parents had lied about the circumstances of my birth. I learned I wasn't their son, but the third son of an English marquess and his wife. It seems I was conceived during a time Lord and Lady Weston were experiencing trouble in their marriage."
    "Oh," commented Banks. "You're a bastard."
    "No, apparently not. Lady Weston swore I was her husband's get, though he believed she lied and hated me because of that. He knew she'd had a lover during the significant time. When within months of my birth it became clear he wouldn't accept me, and since Weston already had an heir and a spare, she sent me to Scotland to be reared by distant cousins of her husband, thinking it was better for a child to live in a home where he was loved by both parents than in a home where he was hated by