James, with his golden-brown hair tousled from the ride and his green eyes sparkling with his usual charm, entered with a ready smile that made him look younger than his twenty-four years. He tossed his hat on the tree by the door. “Sorry we’re late. Got caught up talking to Timmons.”
Thomas, his dark hair in need of a trim and his eyes holding a mischievous look that belied his keen observation, held out a small envelope to Enoch. “This came for you. Looks like it’s from England.”
Enoch took the telegram, his stomach twisted. Father must have received his letter about William.
Mrs. Wangtskedat the other two. “You go wash up now. The meal is getting cold.”
As both men tromped to the wash closet, Enoch gripped the paper, but didn’t unfold it. Should he wait until after the meal, when he could read the note alone?
But Robert and Mrs. Wang watched him, eagerness in their gazes.
With an inward sigh, Enoch slid his thumb beneath the flap and unfolded the paper. He scanned the short message.
DEAREST ENOCH STOP RECEIVED LETTER DEEPEST GRIEF STOP MARRIAGE MORE IMPORTANT THAN PARLIAMENT STOP EITHER STAY AND WAIT FOR WILLIAMS BRIDE OR LADY CECILIA AWAITS IN ENGLAND FULL STOP
He stared at the words, unable to will them into something more palatable. A wife. The notion settled like a stone in his gut. His father would require it already.
Enoch had spent the past months steeling himself for the journey to England, for the life of a duke-in-training, but now marriage too? He’d not been able to bring himself to consider that as a real possibility.
Not since Charlotte. The old pain twisted in his chest. He’d determined not to risk loving again. The pain wasn’t worth any pleasure that might come of an attachment.
Mrs. Wang and Robert exchanged a glance, no doubt noting the tension in his posture. He tried to school his features, but frustration simmered too close to the surface.
James and Thomas returned, their earlier joviality subdued for once. Maybe they sensed the shift in the room. They took their seats, glancing between Enoch and the telegram.
“Well?” James raised an eyebrow. “What news from the motherland?” His voice came a touch too casual. They’d probably read the telegram when they picked it up.
He didn’t have the energy to call them out though.
He tossed the paper on the table, as if physical distance could lessen its impact. “Father wants me to stay here until the bride William sent for arrives.” The words fell like stones, heavy and immovable. They’d received a wire from her accepting Will’s offer and saying she’d send a note when she arrived in St. Louis. “Unfortunately, I’ve already sent her a telegram not to come.” Once she received his note in St. Louey, she’d head back to where she came from.
James eyed him. “You could always send another, inviting her once more. Or place the advertisement again.”
Thomas reached for the telegram, skimming the contents. “I think it’s a capital suggestion. About time you settled down.”
Robert nodded. “A wife could be good for you. And you know Father won’t rest until you secure an heir.”
Enoch’s jaw locked. Good for him? What did Robert know of it? He’d never lost the woman he loved, never felt the ache ofa shattered heart. Robert lived in the safe, orderly world of his ledgers and figures.
Thomas jumped in with his usual easy charm. “Come now, it might not be so bad. Think of it as an adventure. A mystery bride, sent to tame the wild Montana bachelor.”
Enoch shot him a dark look. “This isn’t one of your dime novels. This is my life.” They didn’t understand the gravity of what was being asked of him. The very idea of marriage tied his insides in knots.
He pushed back from the table, the screech of wood loud. “Forgive me, Mrs. Wang. I fear I’ve lost my appetite.”
Her dark eyes held sympathy and concern, but she merely nodded. “I’ll keep it warm for you.”
He inclined his head in gratitude, then strode toward the front door, snatching his hat as he passed the rack. The walls closed in, suffocating him. He needed air. Space to think.
Outside, the mountain air had already cooled. He gulped it in, anything to clear his head. The sun hung low over the snowcapped peaks around them, painting the sky in streaks of orange and pink. This sight usually brought him peace, but now it only stirred a restless agitation in his blood.
He needed to move, to do something physical to quiet the clamor in his mind.
He headed toward the barn, his boots scuffing on the hard-packed earth. He’d check the stock in the east pasture, make sure they were settled for the night. It would give him time to pull himself back together.
As he walked, he couldn’t help sending a question upward.Haven’t I already dealt with enough death and disappointment?Nothing he’d planned was coming to pass. Why would this marriage be different?
But no booming voice answered. Not even a niggle in his mind.
