With that, he strode from the room, his bootsteps echoing down the hall. Mandie sank deeper into the pillow, exhaustion and confusion weighing heavy on her limbs.
Mrs. Wang fussed with the quilt, tucking it around her. “Don’t you worry about a thing, dear. We’ll sort this all out. For now, focus on getting your strength back.”
Mandie managed a weak smile for the woman’s kindness. But as Mrs. Wang bustled out of the room, she let the smile fade. She stared at the rough-hewn ceiling, her thoughts churning like storm-tossed waves.
How had her life come to this? Waking up in a strange bed, in a strange house, in a territory she’d never set foot in before. With no memory of how or why she’d traveled so far from everything familiar.
And now, to learn that the man she’d supposedly agreed to marry was dead...
Her mind drifted to her life back in Savannah, to the genteel society she’d navigated nearly every day. The afternoon teas, the charity bazaars, the endless rounds of calls and social obligations. It had been a life of comfort and privilege, but also one of suffocating expectations.
Especially after Nicholas died. Her throat tightened at the memory of her husband, lost too soon to a fever that swept through the city like a scythe. In the wake of his death, she’d been left adrift, alone in a world that didn’t know what to do with a young widow.
And then there had been Clayton, Nicholas’s brother, with his sly smiles and grasping hands. He’d made it clear he wanted her and her money—Nicholas’s money. The thought of him sent a shudder down her spine.
Perhaps that was why she’d answered William’s advertisement. To escape the gilded cage of Savannah society, to flee Clayton’s unwanted advances. To start a new life in a place where no one knew her past, where she could be valued for more than her beauty and money.
Now William was gone. What sort of man was his brother, this solemn Lord Enoch with the piercing blue eyes?
It didn’t matter. She had no right to impose on this family.
She had to decide what to do next. No matter how much the thought twisted her insides.
CHAPTER 8
Mandie pressed down the nerves churning in her middle as she smoothed her skirt before the mirror. One last time to make sure all was in place before she ventured out of the room.
Bea had said she could join the family for the evening meal if she felt strong enough, and after endless hours staring at these log walls, the prospect of conversation and companionship sounded tempting. Her head barely ached anymore.
Her room was comfortable enough, with a sturdy bed frame, a carved wooden dresser, and a washstand with a thick porcelain basin. But the furnishings held a masculine air, as if they had been chosen for function over form. Was this simply an extra guest chamber? Or had she taken a room from one of the family members?
Inhaling a deep breath, Mandie opened the heavy wooden door and stepped into the dimly lit hallway. The floorboards creaked beneath her feet as she made her way toward the main part of the house.
Rich scents wafted from the kitchen—roasting meat and herbs—and her stomach made an unladylike sound.
As she entered the great room, a tall figure emerged from a side chamber. One of the brothers, but she didn’t know his name. Or rather, she’d memorized the names Bea told her, but didn’t know which face they matched up to.
Except Enoch, of course. That glimpse of the eldest Balfour had burned him clearly in her memory.
This younger brother looked up and stopped short at the sight of her, his eyes widening.
“Mrs. Beaumont.” He quickly collected himself. “It’s a pleasure to see you out and about. I trust you’re feeling better?”
She offered a smile. “I am, thank you, Mr. Balfour. Bea thought I might be ready to join everyone for dinner.” Should she have called him Lord Balfour?
“Please, call me Robert.” His eyes crinkled at the corners. “We don’t stand much on formality here. And we’ll all be glad for your company.”
The sound of voices drew her focus to the staircase, where two more Balfour brothers trotted down. These must be James and Thomas. Hadn’t Bea said Thomas was the youngest? If so, he must be the darker-haired one. He looked slightly more youthful, though the entire family was a handsome lot. What had William been like? Something fluttered in her middle. Probably as comely as his younger brothers, or maybe more so.
But that didn’t matter. William was gone, and his brothers still grieved deeply, no doubt. Where were their parents? Bea had never mentioned them, which made her think the brothers had been on their own for many years.
Thomas led the way, jumping the last two steps to the main floor. He flashed an infectious grin. “Look who’s decided to grace us with her presence. Thomas, at your service.” He swept into an exaggerated bow, then straightened with a wink, his green eyes laughing. “I’d heard whispers of a beautiful maiden gracing our humble abode, but I dared not believe them until now.”
Goodness, what a charmer.
James elbowed him aside. “Pay him no mind, Mrs. Beaumont. He’s been reading entirely too much Byron of late. I’m James, and we’re delighted you could join us.” Taller and broader through the shoulders than Robert or Thomas, he nevertheless shared the same classically handsome features and air of good breeding.
“I suppose I should be flattered to be immortalized in verse.” She arched her brows. “Though I shudder to imagine the rhyming words one could concoct for Mandie.”
