beyond me.
“They are indeed. Would you like a gander?” He flagged down Sophie while I busied myself with signing the bill and then followed the tall guide, amazed at my burgeoning thoughts. I had rarely flirted or done anything unexpected in my life. I’d met Josh at a hospital function hosted by my boss and had stumbled into that relationship. Peter Leigh was definitely the most attractive man I’d met in ages, so why not…?
I spent the next fifteen minutes wandering the lovely expanse of the hotel, following Peter’s well-modulated voice.
“Anne Bernard’s touch is everywhere,” he began. “The young woman was well-educated and not only kept an expansive journal of her time spent in Southern Africa, but also illustrated the pages with lovely pen-and-ink sketches. The hotel has dedicated this entire hall to excerpts of her diary. They make for fascinating reading.” Peter Leigh paused as I examined some journal pages nestled inside lovely gold frames.
“She not only drew the natives, which were referred to by the Dutch as Hottentots, but also each and every person she’d had the fortune or misfortune to meet. Notice this ink sketch of fishermen near the shore. It reveals her special attention to detail. One can only commend her. Unfortunately, it all ended tragically when her husband died prematurely.”
“How so?” I asked.
Peter Leigh once again scrutinized me with his disconcerting brown eyes. “She was forced to vacate this beautiful city and country. Anne returned to the rainy isle, but this house, which she’d so lovingly designed, saw many subsequent owners from governors to generals, merchants to musicians. It wasn’t until 1894 that the house was finally turned into a hotel, evolving into the quiet gem it is today.”
“And that was tragic because…?”
“She remained husbandless in London, forced to forsake one of God’s most beautiful cities. Drowned in her sorrows, I believe. Just like I figure you might be doing.”
Stunned, I croaked out, “I beg your pardon?”
“It’s apparent you’ve discerned the sun doesn’t always shine every day.”
“And how did you figure that out?” I returned coldly, feeling myself flame. We’d paused near the wide terrace overlooking the expansive garden.
“It’s apparent you didn’t plan to holiday in Africa alone. I can make out where you used to wear a ring. On your third finger…”
I glanced down. Though the white tan line where the magnificent ring once rested had faded; the circular white patch was still faintly apparent. My flush intensified as my stomach knotted.
I sputtered, “Thanks for the tour, Mr. Leigh. I have an early flight to Kruger tomorrow morning and need to get some rest. Thanks for your company at dinner and your informative tour of the hotel.”
“Mandy…” Peter Leigh said, his chocolate-brown eyes suddenly remorseful.
“Good night,” I managed before whirling and fleeing to the sanctity of my room.
Nestled wearily under the covers, a pile of used tissues littering the side table, I forced myself to reread the tour book carefully even though my eyes kept pooling. A drop splattered across the Stellenbosch page.
Angrily I slapped shut the book. Just who did Peter Leigh think he was anyway? Probably just some con artist targeting single women in hopes of either procuring a guide job or getting a quickie from what he believed was a lonely, forlorn woman.
“I am neither lonely nor forlorn!” I protested to the empty room. Did my pathetic face really reveal all that pent-up melancholy? Ruthlessly I snapped out the light, praying for sleep, but the happiness I’d momentarily felt over dinner dissipated as I wept into my pillow.
Chapter 6
The next morning I awoke bright and early to take a long shower, hoping to revive myself. I hadn’t slept well; Peter Leigh’s words mocked me even in my dreams. I forced myself to check my packed bags once more before