Chapter 26
Every muscle in Enoch’s body coiled like a spring, ready to snap at this skunk who’d dared step foot on their property. Who’d dared force his presence on Mandie again.
The only thing keeping him from launching himself at Clayton and beating the smug expression off his face was the fact that Mandie needed to handle this her way—at least until her parents understood what kind of blackguard they’d brought to his doorstep.
The front door opened behind him, and Enoch swung around as Mandie’s mother charged outside. Mandie followed close on her heels, her voice a desperate murmur that her mother appeared to be ignoring.
“Mama, please.”
But her mother had already positioned herself on the porch like a queen addressing her subjects, arms folded across her chest. Her sharp gaze swept over the assembled men before settling on her husband.
“Theodore.” Her voice cut through the afternoon air like a blade. “Amanda has just informed me that Clayton forced himself on her, and she is now carrying his child.”
The words hit the yard like a thunderclap, and for a heartbeat, no one moved. Even the mountain breeze stilled. He’d forgotten his brothers didn’t know about Mandie’s condition.
He wanted to see Mandie’s reaction, but Clayton felt like the bigger threat just now.
The cad’s expression shifted seamlessly into one of pained surprise, his hand moving to his heart as if wounded by the very suggestion.
“Mrs. Sinclair, I’m devastated that Amanda would make such an accusation.
I can only imagine how the grief and isolation have affected her judgment. Her injuries too.”
His voice carried the perfect note of hurt confusion. “I fear her grief over Nicholas has affected her mind more than we realized. I know she’s been...fragile. She spoke often of her regret that she never gave Nicholas a son to carry on the Beaumont name.”
He paused, allowing his voice to catch with what seemed like genuine emotion. “I tried to comfort her, as any family member would. Perhaps…perhaps in her fragile state, she misunderstood my intentions. And now, faced with the reality of carrying a child out of wedlock, she needs someone to blame.”
His eyes glistened with what appeared to be tears. “I can’t say I begrudge her. The shame must be overwhelming.” He cleared his throat and turned to Mandie’s father. “I would be willing to marry her. To give the babe a father and cover any hint of scandal.”
Enoch’s jaw clenched. The snake was smooth. He’d give him that.
Mrs. Sinclair’s gaze swung back to Mandie, who stood wrapped in her own arms, looking small and vulnerable against the door frame. The sight of her like that—alone and doubted even by her own parents—made Enoch want to stride up those steps and pull her against his side.
“Amanda.” Her mother’s voice came gentler now, but also carried an edge of doubt.
“We can discuss all of this on the way home. Perhaps you can stay with your cousin Margaret at the plantation in the country until after the baby arrives. No one need know there was any...irregularity. We can smooth this over.”
The words hit Enoch like a physical blow. They were going to sweep this under a rug and ship Mandie off to hide her shame—while Clayton walked free. The injustice of it sent fire racing through his veins.
But it was Mandie’s reaction that twisted his gut. She looked…hesitant. As if she might actually be considering their offer. The thought made something cold and desperate claw at his chest.
Did she want to go with them? These people who’d brought her attacker straight to her, who questioned her word even now?
But they were her parents. Her family.
No matter how poorly they’d protected her, blood ties ran deep. He understood that pull—the desperate need to belong somewhere, to be wanted by the people who should love you the most.
“I…” Mandie’s voice was barely audible. “I don’t know.”
Clayton stepped forward, his expression the picture of wounded nobility. “Amanda, my dear, if I’ve somehow given you the wrong impression—”
“Stay back.” The words tore from Enoch’s throat before he could stop them. He moved to block Clayton’s path completely, every instinct screaming at him to protect what was his.
Except she wasn’t his. And if she chose to leave with them, she never would be.
The realization hit him like a physical blow.
He’d spent so much time building walls to protect himself from loss that he’d never allowed himself to consider what he might be losing by keeping her at arm’s length.
James had tried to tell him. Now—when it might be too late—he finally had to face his loss.
James stepped up beside him, his own expression grim. “Perhaps we should let Mandie make her own decision without pressure from anyone.”
Clayton’s mask slipped for just an instant, revealing a flash of irritation before the concerned expression returned. “Of course. Though I think we can all agree that Amanda needs the support of her family during this difficult time.”
“Support?” Enoch spat the word. “Is that what you call bringing her attacker to her refuge?”
Mr. Sinclair finally spoke, his weathered face creased with confusion and growing anger. “Now see here, young man. I don’t know what game you’re playing, but Clayton is—”
“A liar and a villain.” Enoch’s voice cut through the man’s words like a sword. He was done with politeness, done with letting that snake charm his way out of consequences. “Your daughter fled halfway across the country to escape him, and you brought him right to her.”
Clayton’s face flushed with righteous indignation. “Sir, I must protest this slanderous—”
“Protest all you want.” Robert moved to flank Enoch’s other side, his usually gentle demeanor replaced by something far more dangerous. “But we’ve seen what your presence does to Mandie. That’s all the proof we need.”
Thomas stepped forward as well, completing the wall of Balfour brothers between Clayton and the porch. “Seems to me a real gentleman would respect a lady’s wishes and leave when asked.”
Clayton’s composure finally cracked, his charming mask slipping to reveal the cold calculation beneath.
His sneer swept over the four of them. “How touching. The lady found herself some frontier protectors.” His lips curved.
“But this is a family matter, and Amanda will come to her senses once she’s away from whatever influence you’ve exerted over her. ”
“The only influence we’ve exerted”—Enoch kept his voice steady—“is showing her what it means to be treated with respect.”
Mandie’s sharp intake of breath drew every eye. She stood straighter now, her chin lifted with a resolve that made Enoch’s chest tighten with pride and fear in equal measure. When she spoke, her voice carried across the yard with crystal clarity.
“I’m not leaving here.” She descended the porch steps slowly, her emerald dress rustling with each measured movement. “I won’t hide away on some plantation to spare the family from scandal.”
Her mother’s face went pale. “Amanda, be reasonable. Think of your reputation. Think of the child.”
“I am thinking of my child.” Mandie’s hand moved to cover her middle. “Which is why I won’t put either of us anywhere near him.”
Her gaze fixed on Clayton with unmistakable revulsion. “You want to know the truth? Clayton cornered me in my parlor and insisted I marry him. When I refused his proposal, he forced himself on me on the very sofa where my husband used to read his evening papers.”
The raw honesty in her voice cut through the afternoon air like a blade.
Clayton’s face went ashen, then flushed dark red.
“Amanda, please,” her mother whispered.
“No.” Mandie’s voice grew stronger with each word. “I won’t be silent anymore. I won’t let him twist this into some story about my grief or fragile feminine sensibilities. He violated me, and now he has the audacity to stand here and offer to marry me as if he were some noble savior.”
Enoch had never been prouder of anyone in his life than Mandie in that moment. She possessed a strength he could only dream of. And she made him want to be a man who deserved her. At the very least, he would lay down his life to protect her.
He turned back to Clayton. “You’d better mount that horse now and get off our property, or you’ll be escorted at gunpoint.”
Clayton’s face twisted, the mask of gentility finally dropping completely. “You think these mountain savages can protect you forever, Amanda? You’re carrying my child. My heir. That gives me rights—”
“You have no rights here.” Mr. Sinclair’s voice boomed across the yard, silencing every other sound. Mandie’s father stepped forward, his weathered face carved from granite. “Get away from my daughter. Now.”
Gone was the confused, uncertain man of moments before. In his place stood someone Enoch recognized—a father whose child had been attacked.
The fury in Clayton’s eyes burned hot now, all pretense abandoned. “You’ll regret this, Theodore. All of you.” His gaze swept the assembled group with venomous promise. “That child is a Beaumont, and I’ll have what’s mine.”
“The only thing you’ll have is a bullet if you don’t get off our land.” Enoch’s hand moved toward his hip, though he wore no gun belt on this peaceful Sunday afternoon.
Clayton’s nostrils flared, but he was outnumbered and he knew it. With jerky movements, he jammed his hat back on his head and stalked toward his horse. “This isn’t over, Amanda. A man doesn’t forget what belongs to him.”
“Nothing here belongs to you.” Mandie’s voice rang with even more strength. “And it never will.”
Clayton swung into his saddle with far more violence than grace, wheeling his horse around to face them one last time. “We’ll see about that.” He spurred his mount and thundered out of the yard, leaving a cloud of dust and the echo of hoofbeats in his wake.
The silence that followed felt fragile, like glass that might shatter at the slightest touch.