Chapter 25
Mandie’s middle roiled as Enoch’s head snapped toward her, his blue eyes sharp with concern. “Who’s that with them?”
Her throat closed, making it difficult to speak. “Clayton Beaumont.” She forced the name out like a bitter medicine.
Enoch’s expression darkened, and his stance shifted—protective, alert. “The one who—”
“Yes.” She cut him off. She couldn’t hear the words spoken aloud. Her hands trembled as she smoothed her skirts. She had to compose herself before she could face what awaited outside.
The wagon halted in the yard, and her mother descended with her usual regal bearing, her traveling dress immaculate despite the long journey. Her father followed, his weathered face scanning the ranch buildings with obvious disapproval.
Clayton swung down from his horse, still taking in his surroundings. Even from this distance, she could see the satisfied smile playing on his lips. Like a cat who’d cornered a particularly elusive mouse.
“We’ll handle this.” Enoch’s voice carried a note of steel she’d never heard before.
“I need to greet them.” She moved toward the door on unsteady legs, though every instinct screamed at her to flee. “They’re my parents.”
Enoch caught her arm. “You don’t have to face him alone.”
The simple words steadied her more than any elaborate reassurance could have. She drew a shaking breath and nodded.
They stepped onto the porch together, the other three brothers right behind.
Mandie forced herself to descend the steps, though every instinct screamed at her to flee back into the safety of the house.
“Mandie, darling!” Her mother swept forward, arms outstretched. “Oh, my dear girl, we’ve been so worried.”
Despite everything, her mother’s embrace felt good. She’d missed the familiar scent of lavender water and those comforting arms. “Mama. Papa.” She turned to include her father, who gathered her into his own fierce hug.
“When you disappeared like that, without a word...” Her father’s voice was gruff with emotion. “We feared the worst.”
Over her father’s shoulder, she caught sight of Clayton approaching, that predatory smile still fixed on his face. Her stomach lurched, and she pulled back from her father.
“What is he doing here?” Her words came out sharp.
Her mother’s brow furrowed. “Clayton was worried about you too, dear. When you vanished so suddenly, we all feared for your safety. Without his help, we never would have been able to track you this far.”
Clayton stepped closer, removing his hat with an elegant flourish. “Amanda, my dear. You cannot imagine my relief to see you safe and well.” His voice carried all the smoothness of honey over broken glass. “I’ve missed you terribly.”
Mandie’s skin crawled at the endearment, and she instinctively stepped backward until she reached the solid warmth of Enoch behind her. His presence gave her courage to lift her chin.
“You weren’t invited here, Clayton.” Her voice carried more strength than she felt. “You need to leave.”
Her mother’s eyes widened. “Mandie! What’s gotten into you? Clayton is practically family. And who is this man?” She gestured toward Enoch with obvious disapproval.
She shifted to the side so she could make introductions.
“Mama, Papa, may I present Lord Enoch Balfour?” She motioned to each brother in turn.
“And his brothers, Lord James, Lord Robert, and Lord Thomas. I was injured during my journey here, and the Balfour family has graciously taken me in and cared for me.”
Then she gestured to her parents. “Gentlemen, my parents. Mr. and Mrs. Theodore Sinclair.”
Enoch stepped forward with the polished manners of his noble upbringing. “Mrs. Sinclair. Mr. Sinclair.” His tone was perfectly correct, but she caught the underlying tension. Did her parents notice it? “Your daughter has been a welcome guest in our home.”
Clayton’s smile never wavered, but something cold flickered in his dark eyes as he assessed Enoch. “How fortunate that Mandie found such...hospitable neighbors in this wilderness.”
Enoch stiffened the tiniest bit at Clayton’s tone. She needed to do something to fix this situation before it turned for the worse.
She frowned at her parents. “Clayton isn’t welcome here. He needs to leave now.”
Her mother’s face flushed. “Amanda! I don’t know what’s come over you, but this rudeness is unacceptable. Clayton is a dear family friend who has done nothing but help us find you.”
“He is not a friend.” The words tore from her throat, raw with suppressed fury. “Clayton is—”
“Now, now,” Clayton interrupted smoothly, his voice dripping false concern. “I can see the journey and your injury have left you overwrought, my dear. We should get you back to that little village where you can rest and collect yourself.”
He moved forward as if to take her arm, and Mandie recoiled so hard she nearly stumbled.
Enoch’s hand steadied her, then he shifted to place himself between her and Clayton. When he spoke, his voice held a deadly calm. “You heard the lady. You’re not welcome here.”
Her mother drew herself up. “I’m not sure I care for your friend’s manners, Mandie. A true gentleman wouldn’t be so discourteous to a guest.”
“Clayton is not a good man, Mama.” Mandie’s voice trembled with the fury that roiled through her. How dare her parents bring that man to her doorstep? And to claim he was helping…
Of course they didn’t know the truth. They must not, or they wouldn’t have brought him.
Her middle swooped. She needed to tell them. But not everyone together.
Her mother. She had to tell her mother what Clayton had done.
She glanced around. She couldn’t do it with all the men watching. Who knew how Mama would react? Yet going inside with her mother and leaving all this fury to face off against each other?
She’d have to chance it. Clayton would be the loser in any battle against all four Balfour brothers, and she couldn’t find even a scrap of pity for the lecher.
She stepped back. “Mama, I need to speak with you alone. Inside.”
All eyes turned to her, but Enoch’s was the only gaze she met. She gave a slight nod to answer the question he no doubt wanted to ask. She was going to tell the truth, as much of it as she knew.
“Perhaps we could all come inside rather than waiting on your doorstep.” Clayton spoke in that patronizing tone that clearly insinuated the Balfours possessed no hospitality. He was simply trying to protect himself though. He’d no doubt pretend Mandie had lost her mind and was spouting nonsense.
“No.” Enoch nearly growled the word, and he took a step forward, blocking Clayton’s path to the porch steps.
Her mother glanced at her father, then sighed and moved to follow Mandie into the house. “I hope you have a proper explanation for all this.”
Mandie’s heart hammered against her ribs as she led her mother through the front door and into the main room. The remnants of their cheerful afternoon—pushed-back furniture, Robert’s violin case open on the mantel—seemed to mock the gravity of what she was about to reveal.
Her mother’s sharp gaze took in the polished wood floors, the fine furnishings, the obvious prosperity of the household. Some of the disapproval in her expression eased. “Well. They do seem to live quite respectably for being so far from civilization.”
“Mama, please sit down.” Mandie gestured toward the sofa, her hands trembling. How did one begin such a conversation? How did one tell her mother that a man she’d welcomed into their home, trusted with her daughter’s welfare, was a monster?
Her mother perched on the edge of the cushions, her back ramrod straight. “Now then, what is this nonsense about Clayton? He’s been nothing but helpful these past months, searching for you, comforting your father and me. The man was beside himself with worry.”
The words churned a new round of fury inside her. Clayton, comforting her parents? Playing the concerned suitor while she fled across the country to escape him? The calculated cruelty of it stole her breath.
“He forced himself on me.” The words burst out like a dam breaking, raw and terrible in the quiet afternoon air.
Her mother’s face went ashen, one hand flying to her throat. “Mandie, surely you’re mistaken. Clayton would never—”
“I’m not mistaken.” The words came out harder than she intended, but she couldn’t soften them. Not when her mother’s first instinct was to doubt her. “And I’m…” She couldn’t get these words out. But she had to. “I’m…with child.”
Her mother stared at her, mouth opening and closing like a fish gasping for air. The color had drained completely from her cheeks.
“But…but he’s been so kind. So helpful in the search for you.” Her mother’s voice was barely a whisper. “He even funded the journey here.”
A bitter laugh escaped Mandie’s throat. “Of course he did. He wasn’t helping you find me. He wants me. My…” She slashed her hand through the air. “Nicholas’s money. Everything. He tried to make me marry him, but when I turned him away, he…”
Her mother straightened, and she exhaled a long breath. “I…I can’t believe it. Surely there’s a misunderstanding.”
“Misunderstanding?” Mandie’s voice cracked, and she pressed her hands to her stomach protectively. “There’s no misunderstanding. He forced himself on me, and now I’m with child.” Even faced with the truth, her mother still wanted to find an excuse for Clayton’s behavior.
Her mother’s face crumpled, and for the first time since Mandie could remember, she looked fragile. Old. “Oh, my dear girl. Why didn’t you come to us? Why didn’t you tell your father?”
“Would Papa have believed me? Against Clayton’s word?” Mandie’s laugh held no humor. “You’re already taking his side against me.”
The truth of those words hung heavy between them. Her mother’s hands twisted in her lap, and Mandie saw the moment understanding truly dawned—not just of what Clayton had done, but of why her daughter had felt she had no choice but to flee.
“The baby…” her mother whispered.
“Is Clayton’s, yes.” Mandie lifted her chin, daring her mother to pass judgment. “And he will never, ever get his hands on either of us.”
Outside, raised voices filtered through the windows—her father’s gruff tones, Clayton’s smooth replies, then the steel-edged warning in Enoch’s voice. Her heart lurched.
She needed to get back out there before the men came to blows.