Page 15 of Hope in the Highlands (Seduced in Scotland #1)

The incident in the dining room had created a detachment between Graham and Hope in the following weeks. Though they had maintained an uneasy truce that prevented any additional outbreaks of shouting, neither had addressed the article since that morning. Where they had once been able to talk to each other so freely, there now hung a strained silence.

It had been decided that a stag hunt would take place the week prior to the wedding. Having set out with his cousins on their hunt before the sun rose, Graham was churlish, unable or unwilling to leave his dark mood.

The growing guilt seemed to be pressing against him from all sides. While Graham’s initial reaction upon reading the articles had been to rage at Belle and Hope, the truth was, he was angriest with himself for the part of the article that stated the plain and simple truth: it was a fortunate match for him in that it would allow him to inherit the property he had always seen as his birthright. Graham had tried to reason, to argue with himself that he wouldn’t be marrying Hope if he didn’t like her and his marriage to her was simply a fortunate happenstance, but the fact remained that he was receiving enormous benefits from this match—and he had yet to share that particular detail with Hope. Her trust in him made him feel all the more wicked.

I trust you, Graham.

Trust. As if he were ever deserving of such a thing.

It grated him to realize his weaknesses when it came to Hope. Now to put his faith in her when she was so oblivious to her power over him, well… It made him more than uneasy. It terrified him.

Graham’s deepest wish, his only want in life, was to belong somewhere. He had always believed that place was Lismore Hall, but he was beginning to believe that it was not a place that truly mattered but rather who was by his side. Anywhere could be home, if Hope was with him. Which would only make her dismissal of him that much worse. It would create a chasm in his heart and he wasn’t sure he would survive it.

He belonged to Hope, but he hadn’t realized how much until he was stalking a red deer.

“What is it?” Logan asked as they walked. Each of the men was paired off, set up strategically around the glen to flank their prey through the glen. The thick fog that laid in the valley wrapped around them, cold and wet, akin to being embraced by a specter. “You’re quiet today.”

The rolling green hills around them appeared nearly black due to the dampness of the morning and though the sun had begun to rise, the mist was so thick one could hardly see where it stood in the sky.

“Am I?” Graham said, neither admitting nor denying anything.

“Aye, you are,” Logan answered. “Not regretting your upcoming nuptials, are you?”

Graham gave him a warning glance.

“Watch your mouth.”

Logan lifted his brow and shook his head.

“I mean nothing by it.”

“Good.”

“Still, I’m curious …”

“About bloody what?”

“What it will be like. Marrying an English woman,” Logan said, visibly disgusted by the idea.

“Why not ask your father?” Graham asked sarcastically.

“I have,” he said, seemingly amused by it all. “And he’s as daft about his bride as you seem to be about yours.”

Graham grunted as he walked, unwilling to have any sort of conversation about Hope with Logan.

“Blast Michael,” Graham said, turning around and seeing no one. The sun had risen behind gray clouds as they continued to trudge through a low-lying mist. Fog was good for stalking deer, particularly once they found a spot to set up and stop moving, though the fog made it slightly more dangerous, but this haze was almost too dense. “Where is he? He and Jared should be here by now.”

“Who knows?” Logan asked, unimpressed. “I swear, some English lassies appear out of nowhere and everyone’s upside down. I’d swear the Sharpes had put some sort of enchantment on everyone since coming here.”

Graham cocked his head at Logan’s dramatics and his ongoing, irrational dislike of every English lass as a matter of principle. But enchantment was a perfect word to describe it. He had felt bewitched the moment he first laid eyes on Hope. Even separated from her, he couldn’t deny that he was still under her spell.

“There you go again,” Logan said, stepping over the thin stream as they made their way down into the glen. “Miserable and brooding. No doubt because of the Sharpes.”

“What is your aversion to them?” Graham asked, annoyed. “They have no sway over you or your life. Is it simply because they’re English that you can’t stand them?”

“It would be enough.” Logan trod carefully over marsh-like ground. The squelching sound of his steps would spook any animal within a mile. “And I can’t say I find any of them particularly worse than the other, except perhaps the middle one.”

“Faith?”

“Yes. She’s always trying to correct me. It’s rather infuriating,” Logan said.

Graham shrugged.

“I don’t mind Faith. She’s a bit stodgy, no doubt, but there’s a sense about her that she isn’t a fool. She seems more relatable than Grace.”

“Really? I would have thought Grace was the friendlier of the two.”

“She is, but there’s a reserve to each of them. Grace is friendly, but there are ways in which she remains wholly unapproachable. I can’t quite put my finger on it. While Faith, who has a barrier first and foremost, relents eventually. Though she hasn’t been entirely pleased with me since witnessing my argument with Hope.”

“They’re a tightly knit family,” Logan said. “But I have to disagree. That Faith woman thinks I care what she has to say and insists on informing me on topics I’m quite well-versed in.”

“Such as?”

“Well—”

A loud bang echoed in the glen as a flock of birds flew up into the sky several yards away. Before either Graham or Logan could react, a searing pain cut through Graham’s flesh. With a guttural yell, he grasped his side and fell to the ground.

“Graham!” Logan shouted, falling to his knees beside Graham. “What the devil…”

A rustling of footsteps sounded from somewhere behind Graham’s head, but he could barely focus. It was the strangest thing, almost as if he knew he had been shot, but couldn’t quite comprehend it. Agony emanated from the place he had been hit, but the shock was settling in.

“Oi!” Logan shouted. “Over here!”

“What’s this?” Michael’s voice was faint in his ears as darkness edged Graham’s vision. “Oh God, no. Did I hit him?” A second figure stood over him, but he couldn’t see who it was. “No. Oh, Graham, I’m so sorry!”

“Get the horses,” Logan ordered, before peering down at Graham as his vision blurred. “Stay awake. Can you hear me? Graham? Can you hear me?”

But as Logan’s voice faded, a cool darkness wrapped around Graham, engulfing him completely.