Page 48 of Mail-Order Viscountess

Robert recovered first, his expression slipping to something that might have been amusement. “Congratulations are in order then.”

“When did this happen?” James’s voice held genuine curiosity rather than judgment. “You only just got back.”

“This morning. In the study.” Thomas shoved his hands in his pockets. Why did all three of them have to stand there studying him like he’d sprouted a second head? “I laid out her options. She chose marriage.”

“Her options.” Enoch’s tone had gone stoic—the one he used when he thought he had to work carefully around a problem. “You gave her a choice?”

“Three of them, actually.” Thomas met his eldest brother’s gaze. “Return to South Carolina with funds for the journey. Stay here as a guest and run her seamstress business from the ranch. Or marry me.” He shrugged. “She picked the third.”

“Just like that?” Robert’s skepticism bled through, despite his possible attempt to sound supportive.

“Just like that.” He quirked up one side of his mouth and did his best to keep his voice light, though his chest had gone tight.

“You’re sure about this?” Enoch’s blue eyes searched his face with that particular intensity that had always made him feel like his brother could see straight through any pretense. “Marriage isn’t something to enter lightly.”

Thomas threw up his hands. Honestly. “What do you all want from me? First you scheme and lie behind my back to order me a bride. And now that I’m willing to actually marry her, you’re questioning whether I’m sure?” He shook his head, aiming for exasperation rather than the defensiveness rising in his throat. “Make up your minds.”

James had the grace to wince. “That’s fair.”

“We were wrong to do that.” Enoch’s voice carried the weight of genuine regret. “I’m sorry. We all are. But this—Thomas, this is your life we’re talking about. I need to know you’re not just doing this because you feel obligated.”

The concern in his brother’s tone stripped away a layer of Thomas’s irritation. Enoch wasn’t trying to control him. This was protection—the way he’d always tried to protect all of them, sometimes to the point of suffocation.

“I’m not.” Thomas forced himself to meet each of his brothers’ gazes in turn. “I won’t pretend it’s a love match. We barely know each other. But I respect her. And I think we can build a good life.”

“Respect is a solid foundation.” James’s expression softened. “It builds a great friendship, which can lead to a wonderful marriage.”

“That turned out well for you and Rose.” Robert’s dry tone carried a hint of warmth beneath it. “You’re disgustingly happy.”

A smile tugged at James’s mouth despite his obvious attempt to stay serious. “My point is that Thomas could do worse than marrying a woman he respects. Especially one as capable as Miss McKinney appears to be.”

“She is capable.” Maybe he sounded defensive, but it didn’t matter. “She’s one of the strongest people I’ve ever met. And she deserves better than having her reputation destroyed because we were caught in a storm.”

“Then you’re doing the right thing.” Enoch’s shoulders relaxed, though his expression remained serious. “When?”

“When what?”

“When do you want to have the ceremony?” Enoch glanced toward the house, then back at Thomas. “The sooner the better, I’d think. Given the circumstances with Hartwell.”

His insides knotted. He hadn’t thought that far ahead—hadn’t let himself picture standing before a preacher with Kate beside him, speaking vows that would bind them together for life. The image formed now, and his chest twisted.

Not unpleasant. Just...significant.

“I suppose you’re right.” He cleared his throat. “Maybe see if the sheriff can come out tomorrow?” That would give Kate and the other women a day to prepare.

“I’ll ask when I’m in town.” Enoch turned toward the barn again. “Try not to let anyone else camp in our woods while I’m gone.”

Robert snorted. “Sure.”

After Enoch disappeared into the barn, Thomas glanced at James and Robert, who were both still watching him.

“What?” He shifted his weight. He should just go in the house and leave these jokesters outside.

“Nothing.” James’s mouth twitched. “Just never thought I’d see the day you willingly chose to settle down.”

He glared. “I’m not exactly entering my dotage.”

Robert clapped a hand on his shoulder—hard enough to jar loose his ribs again. “For what it’s worth, I think you made the right choice. Miss McKinney strikes me as the sort of woman who won’t let you get away with your usual nonsense.”