Page 14 of Hope in the Highlands (Seduced in Scotland #1)

Hope read the paper in silence; her mouth slightly open as she read the ghastly announcement in the Times . It was the same one that had read in the Herald , as well as a dozen papers across the country that had arrived that morning to the dining room.

Hope, her sisters, Rose, and Belle all sat around the table in silence, each reading papers. It was evident that they were all thinking the same thing. To Hope’s horror, the announcement hadn’t been printed in the engagement section, but rather the gossip column.

…It has also been brought to this author’s attention that one of the Sharpes sisters has finally made her match. Miss Hope Caroline Sharpe, eldest daughter of the Honorable Abbott Sharpe, has accepted a proposal from Mr. Graham MacKinnon of Glasgow. It was previously assumed that Miss Sharpe would marry her long-time beau, Mr. Jacob Pennington. The newly minted partner at Benton and Stanley Law firm rescinded his proposal after the scandal that took place at the Spotsmore Ball. One could only assume that Miss Sharpe was devastated, losing her dearest love, but it seems Hope springs eternal.

Though little is known about the would-be businessman, it should be noted that Miss Sharpe has been named primary beneficiary of her notorious aunt, Lady Belle Smith. A fortuitous match indeed for the unknown Scot and his lady love…

“A fortuitous match?” Hope said out loud, her voice breaking as she looked up. “Graham will be mortified.”

“He’ll be incensed,” Faith said, shaking her head. “No one is going to read that and not understand what the writer is implying.”

Hope’s hand came over her face.

“Oh, why? Why did this have to be written about?” She turned to face Belle who sat at the head of the table, reading one of the dozens of papers that had been brought in. “Is this what you asked them to write?”

“Goodness no, dear,” Belle said. “I only mentioned the inheritance so that they wouldn’t question MacKinnon’s ability to care for you.”

“So who wouldn’t question it? The ton? London? The entire country?” Hope asked. “It reads as though I’m marrying a man who’s desperate for money to finance his failing business.” She hit the paper with her hand. “Would-be businessman? It makes Graham sound incapable.”

“Well, that just isn’t true.”

“True or not, it’s been written,” Hope said, tossing her paper away. She groaned as she folded her arms on the surface of the table and dropped her forehead down. “He’s going to be livid.”

As if summoned by the mere idea of him, a thunderous noise came from the foyer. It sounded as though the oak doors had been shoved opened, crashing against the walls behind them. Hope’s head snapped up.

“Drats,” Belle said under her breath as Graham came storming into the dining room.

Clutching a newspaper in one hand, he lifted his other and pointed menacingly at the old woman. Hope stood, determined to come between him and her aunt.

“You,” he seethed, stalking down the side of the dining room table. He threw the paper in front of Belle and it landed on her half-finished breakfast plate. “Is it not enough that you’ve tried to force your agenda on me? You have to insult me, too?”

“MacKinnon,” Belle hissed, her eyes flickering to Hope. “Hush.”

Hope couldn’t understand Belle’s reaction, especially since Graham seemed completely focused on Belle. He leaned over her, one hand gripping the top rail of her highbacked chair. He hunched over her, ominous in his stance.

“What the devil do you mean to do to me? Eviscerate any part of my pride?”

“You’re being ridiculous—”

“And you’re nothing by a conniving old—”

“Graham,” Hope said loudly, her voice cracking as she tried to stop him from saying vicious thing that he wouldn’t be able to take back.

The urgency in her voice seemed to catch his attention at last, but as soon as he turned to her, Hope began to question her decision to be on the receiving end of his glare. He stood up and came around the table, stalking her as though he were some disgruntled hunting dog and she were an injured rabbit. Her hand came up to her throat as she took a step back.

“‘Dearest love,’ was it?” he said as he came to crowd her, but Hope would not be cowed. “Had I known how desperately in love you had been, I might not have bothered.”

Hope knew he was hurt. But she was not in the wrong here, and she would not let him make her ashamed. Though she was shaking slightly, she held her chin up, confident in herself.

“I will not deny my feelings for Mr. Pennington, or what I believe I felt. You knew as much when I came here.”

“Oh aye, I did,” he said sarcastically, his dark eyes baring into hers, as though he were trying to see into her core. “I know he threw you over the moment it was convenient.”

Hope inhaled sharply, and her sisters stood, evidently dismayed by the distress she was clearly in.

“Girls,” Belle said, standing with the help of Andrews’s hand on her elbow. “Let’s leave these lovebirds in peace.”

The term “lovebirds” sounded heavily sarcastic, Hope noted as her aunt walked the length of the table. Still, neither Faith or Grace moved until Belle struck the ground with her cane, shaking both of Hope’s sisters from their trance. They turned to follow Belle, though Hope knew neither wished to leave her.

Once they were alone, Graham took several deep breaths. For several long moments they looked at one another, Hope searching his face for any crack in his anger that might show he was capable of being reasonable about this.

“Graham—”

“She’s made me out to be some fortune seeking beggar,” he snapped, though his voice seemed defeated. “I should have never have even come here.”

Hope’s heart sank. She reached out to touch his arm, but he pulled away and turned his back on her.

A stone on her chest might be more comfortable than the pressure she felt in that moment. She opened her mouth to speak, but her throat felt tight. She felt ill at the thought that his next words would be to end their engagement. If he did that, she would be ruined.

“Do…” She started after a long moment. “Do you wish to… to end this?”

Graham circled back slowly and the fury displayed on his face somehow even more intense than it had been a moment ago.

“So, you can go back to your precious Penton?”

“No,” she said quickly, not bothering to correct him. It would do no good, since he never seemed to able to remember Pennington’s name. “No, I just thought—”

“Thought that I’d abandon you? Like he did?” he asked, taking a step towards her. The space that separated them was eliminated in seconds and she had to crane her head back to look up at him. “Unfortunately for you, I’m nothing like him.”

That irritated her.

“I don’t want you to be like him.”

“And yet the author of that article—”

“The author wrote what he wanted to write. He writes for a gossip column—he’s not interested in the truth but only in what will sell papers,” she said, shaking her head. “Whatever I felt for Jacob before, it’s not… It doesn’t compare…”

The words stuck in her throat and she curled her fingers into her palms. Why was it so difficult to tell him how she felt about him? Was it possible that Jacob’s abandonment had hurt her so significantly that she couldn’t he honest?

No. She wouldn’t let her past ruin her future.

Her hands came up to the lapels of his coat and though he tried to pull back, she held on tightly.

“I trust you, Graham. I believe in you and I… I care for you a great deal.”

A silence followed and Hope half expected him to say something similar. Except in the next moment, his large hands came over hers and to her misery, pulled her grip from his coat.

“Don’t say that,” he said lowly.

Hope frowned, unsure why he would reply like that. Was he worried that she might still have feelings for Jacob? It wasn’t true and she needed to tell him.

“It’s true—”

But Graham wouldn’t listen. He took several steps away, his back expanding and contracting heavily, as if he was laboriously breathing. Concern filled Hope and though she was worried he’d pull away again, she went to him.

Her hands reached up and moved over his back. She wanted him to hold her, as he had in the greenhouse, and tell her there was nothing to worry about. That he wasn’t angry at her for foolish things, like her past. But instead of taking her into his arms or saying anything to comfort her, he visibly flinched beneath her palms.

“Graham,” she said, her voice cracking with emotion. “Do you… Do you still wish to marry me?”

“Aye,” he said instantly, though he wouldn’t face her.

“Then can’t we… put this behind us?”

But Graham only shook his head and moved out of her reach. The cracks of Hope’s heart seemed to fill with doubt and she balled her hands together as anger flared up within her.

“It isn’t fair,” she said quickly, the words refusing to be buried within her. “You cannot be mad at me about loving someone before I ever met you.”

He spun around and Hope half expected him to yell about something or other. Instead, he grabbed her and pressed her body against his. Bending his head down he spoke harshly into his ear.

“You shouldn’t be so damn certain of things, Hope,” he said, his hands roaming over her body. She closed her eyes, eagerly accepting his touch. “You believe too easily in people.”

She frowned.

“So what if I believed in Jacob?” she asked. “I believe in you now, don’t I?”

The words seemed to burn him and he released her with a violent curse. She stumbled backwards, unsure what meaning to give to the shadows that passed over his face as he held his hands up, to barred her from coming towards him.

“This changes nothing,” he said gruffly, more to himself then to her. “A month from Monday.”

They were set to marry the following month and while he didn’t sound exactly pleased by the idea, Hope nodded. After which he turned on his heel and left the dining room as though the devil was chasing him.

Hope stared at the space he’d disappeared from for longer than she would have like to admit. The wedding announcement had been poorly done, but why had he been so angry with both Belle and with her? Surely he didn’t believe that was what they’d wanted to have printed.

She folded her arms across her chest as her hands crawled around her, holding herself in a half embrace that she wished she could have gotten from him, instead. Was her past really so terrible that Graham couldn’t forgive her for it? A large part of her wanted to argue, to tell him that he had no right to blame her for having fallen in love before, and yet she was afraid to challenge him because she was still worried that he would abandon her.

Unfortunately for you, I’m nothing like him . His words had been cold, but she had felt a distinct comfort in them. No. Graham was nothing like Jacob.

And for that, she would be forever grateful.