Page 17 of Hope in the Highlands (Seduced in Scotland #1)

Having spent nearly four days sleeping in a chair in the sickroom where Graham was recovering, Hope had practically been pulled out to bathe and sleep in her own room. She had been diligent in her nursing Graham back to health, and had flatly refused to leave his side until Graham himself had ordered it.

Still, as soon as she awoke in her own room, fully rested and recharged, she wanted to check on him. She crawled out of bed and rang for a maid who helped her dress into an unpretentious day gown. Doing her hair in a simple braid, she wrapped it around her head in a halo style, pinning it in place and then quietly opened the door. She stole down the hallway to Graham’s room just as Una the maid was exiting.

“Oh, my lady, he’s awake, but says he wants to sleep,” Una said. “His bandages were changed an hour ago. Dr. Barkley was just here as well, poking and prodding at him.”

Hope smiled.

“Thank you, Una,” she said, putting her hand to the brass knob. “I’ll only bother him a minute.”

Una nodded and bobbed a curtsey before scurrying away. Hope gently opened the door, which creaked slightly. She moved into the room as quietly as possible.

One of the things Hope had discovered over the last few days was that Graham preferred to sleep in while she was always up with the dawn. She had enjoyed waking up before him as it gave her plenty of time to gaze at Graham without disruption.

He appeared younger while he slept, as the scowl he so often wore disappeared. She was tempted to stroke the stubble of his jaw as she watched him breathe, but she was sure he’d try to pull her towards him if he realized she was there.

But alas, she was already too late on that front. Seeming to sense her presence, Graham opened his eyes and a small grin crawled across his face. Hope’s heart fluttered beneath his gaze.

She came around the small table at his bedside that held his medical supplies. A brown jar sat unopened next to the alcohol bowl they had been using to clean the wound. Picking it up, she brought it to her nose and sniffed. It smelled of honey and turpentine.

“Graham?”

“Mm-hmm?”

“What is this mixture?”

“It’s honey and pine resin. It’s a concoction the doctor is trying out. Honey cleans out wounds and the resin can draw out dirt. You’re supposed to swathe it over a wound to prevent infection.”

“Really?”

“Supposedly. The bee hives I have at Elk Manor are particularly good at producing dark honey. Dr. Hall got it from my own hives.”

Hope brow lifted in surprise as she lifted the jar. She held it up to the light of the window, examining its contents.

“I didn’t know honey could be used as medicine.”

“There’s plenty of uses for honey,” he said, resting back against the pillows.

She smiled at him.

“Did he say if you were able to get out of bed today?”

Graham frowned. “No. He says I should wait until the end of the week, even though I feel just fine.”

Hope lifted a finger. She had been following both doctors’ orders religiously and Graham had suffered beneath her command.

“If the doctor said no, then you shouldn’t. I’ll have a tray brought up immediately.”

“Given it an hour or so,” he said through a yawn. His eyes closed. “I shouldn’t want to be a bother.”

Hope smirked and left the room, letting him sleep. She sighed with contentment as she made her way down the main staircase. How much life had changed in only a few short weeks, she mused. Had she able to go back in time and tell herself, only months earlier, that she would soon live in the highlands with Aunt Belle and her sisters, on the verge of marriage to a handsome Scot and set to inherit an estate, she was sure her younger self would have laughed profusely.

Shaking her head, she went to search for Dr. Barkley to inquire about what sort of food would be best for Graham to eat as he recovered.

That week’s activities had certainly distracted her, but now that Graham was well on the mend, Hope had never been happier. Graham certainly seemed to feel the same way.

Hope searched the parlor, and then the library, only to find both empty. Deciding that Dr. Barkley was probably in her aunt’s office, she headed there. She was just about to round the corner when she heard the disgruntled voice of Belle whispering so harshly that it caused Hope to stop in her tracks.

“And furthermore, I will not have you or anyone else tell me how to live my life,” she spoke as the soft ‘thud’ of her cane tapped the floor with finality.

“Lady Belle, I must insist you reconsider.”

“Absolutely not.”

“I’ve seen this in several other patients. Peritonitis is not an easy disease. It will only get worse. Now, there are beliefs that a warmer climate could help—”

“For the last time, I will not remove myself from this home,” she continued. “Now, are there no other treatments?”

“Besides the morphine, no. Dr. Hall and I have discussed your condition at length and I must reiterate—”

“I’ve heard quite enough. After you attend MacKinnon, you are dismissed.”

Hope’s hand covered her mouth.

“Dismissing me won’t change your diagnosis,” he said evenly.

“I believe you said it would be a good idea to get a second opinion.”

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but aren’t I the third doctor you’ve seen for this? See a dozen doctors, see a hundred if you like. Perhaps you’ll find one or two who disagree with the prognosis, but it won’t change the fact that unless you leave Scotland for a considerable amount of time, your decline will be rapid and irreversible.”

Hope’s brow furrowed.

“You may leave, Dr. Barkley,” Belle said stiffly.

The doctor sighed. “Very well.”

Footsteps sounded from the room. Suddenly aware of how incriminating it would appear for Hope to be caught eavesdropping, she stood up and walked directly into the room, slamming into the doctor.

“Oaf!” the older man said, dropping his bag.

“Oh! Dr. Barkley! I didn’t see you there,” she said, bending to help him gather his things. “I came rushing down the hallway without thinking.

“Not at all,” the doctor said stiffly. He stood up and straightened his coat. “Good day, Miss Sharpe.”

“Of course. Good day,” Hope said, swiveling sideways to let him pass.

She turned back to face the office door. Hope entered the room fully and saw Belle sitting in a winged back chair, one hand clenched around her cane tightly. She smiled at Hope, though it didn’t reach her eyes, and she tried to stand. Hope instantly came towards her, kneeling before her to prevent her from rising.

“Oh, there’s no need for you to get up, Aunt Belle.”

“Nonsense,” she said swatting at her hand as she stood, forcing Hope to stand as well. “How does MacKinnon fare?”

“Very well,” Hope said, watching her aunt carefully. “The wound is clean and the edges seem to be healing.”

“That’s good.”

“And how are you feeling? Surely the doctor wasn’t pleased to see you in your office so early.”

“Bah, Barkley simply isn’t used to seeing such a healthy woman.”

Hope nodded slowly, though she kept a close eye on her aunt.

A stilted silence followed, and Hope wondered if she should tell her aunt that she had overheard her talk with Dr. Barkley. Taking a tentative step forward, she held her hands together, her thumbnail picking at her forefinger.

“Aunt Belle, are you well?”

“Yes, of course,” she said evenly. Hope was silent and Belle gave her an inquisitive stare. “Is there something wrong, dear?”

Hope shook her head quickly.

“No, Aunt Belle, it’s just…”

Hope didn’t want to upset her, but she needed to know what was happening. The decisiveness in her aunt’s tone might have dissuaded her from pressing the issue when she first arrived, but Hope was determined.

“Just what, dear?” her aunt asked.

“I want you to know that if you were ever not well, we—my sisters and I, that is—would do anything and everything to help you get better.”

Belle squinted.

“Is that so?” she asked. Hope nodded. “My dear, why don’t you see if Dr. Barkley needs any assistance?”

Hope didn’t move.

“Aunt Belle, if you are sick—”

“If I am sick, it is my own business. Not yours.”

“It is very much my business,” she said coming forward. “Aunt Belle, you must let someone help you.”

“I’ve lived many years on my own, my dear girl, and I’m not about to have anyone start dictating my life now. You should go.”

Hope sighed. Belle could be the most stubborn woman in the world at times. Annoyed at accomplishing nothing, she left Belle’s office. If she would refuse to accept help, there was little Hope could do about it.

Upon reaching the dining room, Hope saw Grace and Faith, staring at one another rather intensely. When Grace noticed Hope, she stood up, somewhat frantic.

“Hope, good morning,” she said, her hands coming together before her. “How is Mr. MacKinnon faring this morning?”

“Well,” Hope said, coming into the room. Both sisters appeared as though they were hiding something. “Are you all right, Grace?”

“Me? Yes. Very well,” she said, looked down at a stony-faced Faith. “We both are. Aren’t we, Faith?”

Faith sat quietly, apparently unwilling to say anything, which gave Hope pause. What was going on?

“Are you unwell, Faith?” she asked, collecting a plate at the side table.

After scooping some poached eggs over two pieces of toast, Hope came around the table and took her seat. Still, Faith wouldn’t meet her eyes.

“I don’t think we should lie to her,” Faith said to Grace when Hope finally sat down.

“It’s not lying,” Grace said. “You simply misinterpreted—”

“I did no such thing!”

“Wait, wait,” Hope said, holding up her hands to stop her sisters from arguing. “What are you two going on about?” When neither seemed willing to speak, Hope pressed. “Faith?” She turned her head. “Grace?”

Wringing her hands together, Grace tipped her head nervously.

“Well, Faith believes she heard something—”

“I don’t believe I heard something. I know I did.”

“Be that as it may,” Grace continued. “It’s rather an unsettling thing, and I’m not sure quite how to share it with you.”

Hope’s brows pinched together as she looked back and forth between her sisters, her gaze finally settling on Faith.

“What is she talking about?”

“Listen,” Faith said after a moment. She exhaled a long breath before continuing. “I know I wasn’t exactly pleased about coming here and that I’ve made several comments about him already that might make you doubt my account, but I’m not making this up. I know what I heard.”

“Well, please, share, because I’m not sure what either of you is talking about.”

A short silence followed before Faith continued.

“The other day when Graham was brought here after being shot, you asked that I accompany him and Mr. Harris to one of the rooms upstairs,” she said, glancing up. “And I did. I tried to be as helpful as possible, but I also didn’t want to get in the way. And everyone was so frantic, I’m not sure they even noticed I was there. When Mr. Harris helped Mr. MacKinnon to his bed, I overheard Mr. MacKinnon whisper something about how ironic it would be to die in the same house where he was born, having never once lived here since that day, and Mr. Harris said… Well, he… I’m afraid…”

“What?” Hope asked, a twisting sort of warning snaked through her body. “What did he say?”

“He said he only needed to hold on a few more days and it would be his.” Faith’s gaze met Hope’s as she looked her squarely in the eye. “He said, remember the plan, old boy .”

Hope stared at her sister for a long time before a humorless snort escaped her mouth. She shook her head and looked at Grace, who had stopped wringing her hands and appeared rather pale.

Plan? What plan? Hope shook her head again, trying to unstick some thought that wouldn’t leave. The plan to what? Marry her to gain ownership of Lismore Hall?

No, that couldn’t be…

“That’s preposterous,” she said breathlessly, not to anyone in particular. “Graham didn’t ask me to marry him because of this house.” She looked back and for the between each sister. “He didn’t want to marry me. Remember? At Elk Manor, he was furious—”

“—that you and he had nearly been caught alone together,” Faith said. “Rose came to your aid and kept you from being compromised. You thought he was angry that you’d nearly been caught, but what if he was angry that you hadn’t been caught—hadn’t been forced to get engaged right away? What if that was his plan?”

“There was no plan,” Hope said, her anger getting the better of her. Closing her eyes, she tried to breathe steadily. She felt as though her body was being pulled beneath the earth, as though she were in a sort of quicksand. “What sort of plan would there be?”

“A plot to regain this house by marrying the woman who will inherit it,” Grace said gently.

“No. There isn’t any plot,” Hope started as she stood up, suddenly without appetite. “But if there was one, Graham certainly wouldn’t be a part of it. He couldn’t.”

Though neither of her sisters argued any further, neither appeared convinced. Hope swallowed back the bile that rose in her throat, replaying the words she had just heard. An uncomfortable heat crawled up Hope’s spine. This isn’t happening , she thought miserably. Surely it wasn’t true. It couldn’t be true.

But then, cold and uncomfortable zings lit up across her skin. It was like being pelted with bits of hail. Why did the truth always hurt so much? Her fingers braced against the back of her chair, painfully digging into the wood.

Hope wondered why she hadn’t realized it before.

Of course, Graham would want to marry her so he could regain Lismore Hall.

Her stomach turned with nausea as she pressed the heel of her palm to her head. Oh, could she have been so blind? So blatantly foolish? She should have known better.

Her heart beat erratically. What an idiot she was. Turning, Hope headed toward the doorway that led out into the hall. She needed to speak with Graham.

“Hope?” Grace called from behind, but she didn’t stop.

Glancing up to her left, she saw the massive painting of Graham’s grandfather staring down at her. He seemed rather annoyed, as if he didn’t appreciate her, and a furious burst of animosity echoed in her heart towards the long dead man. Frowning, she glared at the painting.

“You’ve no right to glower at me,” she said.

“I wasn’t glowering.”

Hope jumped, terrified at hearing that voice she knew all too well. It was Jacob Pennington, standing next to an annoyed looking Una.

“Begging your pardon, Miss Sharpe, but Mr. Pennington only just arrived. I was coming to tell you.”

“Uh, yes. Of course, It’s all right,” Hope said blinking, as if she was seeing things.

Una bobbed her head and left. He come forward quickly, obviously distressed to have frightened her. He reached for her hand.

“Hope, I didn’t mean to scare you.” His golden flax hair was perfectly fixed, his intent brown eyes showing worry. “Are you all right?”

“Jacob,” Hope said, lifting her hand to her throat. “What on earth are you doing here?”

“Well, after I read the announcement in the Times , I was stunned, to tell you the truth. Knowing you as I do, I knew such a swift engagement must be at the behest of someone else. Over the past several weeks, I’ve grown more and more worried, and eventually I couldn’t help but to take the harrowing trip north to see you and make sure that you were all right. Tell me, has your aunt forced you into this? Has she compelled you to live here, in this remote part of the world?” He peered around her into the dining room, noticing that they weren’t alone. Still, he didn’t release his grip on her fingers and instead drew Hope back into the dining room. He bowed his head. “Miss Faith. Miss Grace.”

No, this was not good.

“Mr. Pennington,” Faith said, stalking down the room, her fists clenched at her side as she walked, followed closely by Grace. “What the devil—”

“Ah, Faith, perhaps we should leave Hope and Mr. Pennington alone,” Grace said quickly, encircling her arm around her sister’s elbow. She pulled her away towards the door. “I’m sure Aunt Belle or perhaps the staff might wish to be informed about our guest. Come along.”

“But—ow!”

Faith was practically pushed through the doorway. Grace’s mouth pulled up into a pained smile, her eyes lingering on Hope’s hand held by Jacob. With a nod, she was out of the room.

Turning back to face Jacob, Hope pulled her hand swiftly from his and moved carefully around him. The shock that fizzled through her veins at the sight of him was beginning to settle, but she still had questions. First and foremost: What on earth was he doing here?

“Jacob, what are you doing here?”

“To save you from what so obviously is some sort of hack marriage,” he said. “The Hope I know would never agree to such a quick wedding. Why, we weren’t even engaged and yet our courtship lasted well over two years.”

“Yes, because you wished for it to last so long,” she said. “What exactly do you intend to do here?”

“I’m here to save you.”

“Save me? From what?”

“From making a terrible mistake. I was positively flooded with worry when I read about your engagement and it’s tortured me these many weeks to think that our estrangement might have pushed you into an unwanted situation. I’ve wrestled with my better judgement, but in the end I lost. I realized that I love you, Hope Sharpe. And I intend to bring you back to London.”

Hope’s mouth fell open at his proclamation. Then, she sent up a silent prayer for strength before she spoke.

“Oh, Jacob, that is, er, generous of you and it was kind of you to come all this way just to check on me, but I’m afraid your journey has been for naught.”

“Because you’re being forced to do this?” he asked. Hope stared at him, bewildered. “The marriage, I mean.”

“No,” she said. “Jacob, no one is forcing me to marry anyone. Mr. MacKinnon and I have decided to wed because that is our wish, without any sort of pressure from anyone else.”

The word stuck in her throat as she remembered what Faith had said. Was she lying to herself? Did Graham truly wish to marry her—or was his only concern to inherit? Had Graham really ever been interested in her?

Jacob scoffed. Pity appeared on his face, annoying her. But she struggled to swallow that annoyance down. He had traveled so far to see her and offer his assistance, and she did not wish to be rude.

“Are you quite sure?” he asked, his tone doubtful. “There is no, well, underlining reasoning for you two to be forced into matrimony?”

Hope did not understand his question until she saw him examining her body as if he could see through her clothes. Mortified at the implication that a pregnancy had required her to marry immediately, Hope instinctively folded her arms around her body, as if to shield herself from his intrusive gaze. She held her chin up high.

“As I said, I am quite sure.”

“I see,” he said, frowning a bit, and Hope had the distinct desire to kick him.

She came up towards him and tried to shoo him from the room. But he didn’t move.

“I think it would be best if you left now,” she said.

“I’m not going anywhere until I know you are safe,” he said. “To think that when I ended our courtship that you would have to marry a Scot—”

“Really, it’s all right,” she said, waving her hands to get him to leave the room. “As I said, I am quite happy with the match.”

“You don’t seem very happy when I first entered the room.”

“I had just finished discussing a misunderstanding with my sisters. That is all.”

Jacob watched her for a moment before sighing. He put his hand over his heart.

“I shouldn’t have tossed you off as I did,” he said. “Oh, Hope. If I could go back and change things, I would.”

Hope’s thoughts drifted up to Graham. What would he do if he found Jacob here? He had been thoroughly upset even knowing that he had once been her suitor.

“That’s all very good of you, Jacob, but really, you must leave. There is no space for you here.”

“Not even in some corner of your heart?”

Hope stared at him as though he were mad. He gazed back at her with a longing expression in his eye, as if he were besotted with her. What on earth was wrong with him? Never in their entire courtship had he ever looked at her like this.

“Jacob, I’m very grateful that you came all this way and I thank you for being such a devoted friend, but you must know that there is no changing things. I am m-marrying Mr. MacKinnon,” she said, stumbling over her words. “And I’m quite happy about it. So please, please. You must refrain from asking about my feelings for you.” She shook her head. “Those feelings stopped when our relationship ended. And if Mr. MacKinnon were to hear any of this, he would have you quartered.”

“Because he is a cruel man?” Jacob asked hopefully.

“Because he is a loyal man. Now, I beg you to leave this house, right this very moment.”

“Then there are no feelings left for me? None at all?”

Hope had to restrain herself from rolling her eyes.

“You were the one who cut me loose, remember? Now as I’ve told you—”

“Why are you in such a rush to be rid of me? Is it because you fear that if we spend more time together, you might find that somewhere deep inside, you might still have feelings for me?” He reached for her hand again, gripping it tightly. Uncomfortably so. She tried to pull away, but he wouldn’t let her go. “Forgive me, Hope. I was a fool to let you go.” He brought her hand up to his mouth and began peppering her knuckles with kisses. Her mind whirled at the idea of Graham walking into this. He would murder Jacob. “And I will never let you go again.”

“Yes, you will, right this instant,” she whispered harshly, finally yanking her hand free. “What’s come over you?”

“I love you,” he said, coming towards her. “Run away with me.”

Hope gasped, legitimately shocked. “Good lord, you have gone mad,” she said, more to herself than to him. “Jacob, you need to leave right now. I insist. If Gra—uh, Mr. MacKinnon finds out that you were here, he’ll be very upset.”

“Damn him,” Jacob said, with a false bravado that made Hope exasperated. “He doesn’t care for you—I’m sure of it. His only interest is in your windfall.”

Hope tilted her head and her brow furrowed.

“My windfall?” she repeated. “What windfall?”

“You do not have to be coy with me, Hope,” he said, recapturing her hand. “It was all over the papers in London. It’s what made me so worried about you in the first place.”

Hope squinted.

“You thought my fiancé only wished to marry me because of my supposed future inheritance?”

“Well, I must admit— Uh, did you say supposed inheritance?” he said, his stance shifting slightly.

“Yes. It was only revealed to me a few weeks ago, after reading that article, that Aunt Belle was set to name me as her beneficiary. But I declined.”

“You… You what?”

“I asked that her estate be divided three-fold, so that I might share with my sisters.”

Breathing a sigh of relief, the worry in Jacob’s eyes vanished as he squeezed her hand tighter.

“Oh, my dear, you mustn’t worry about that. As the sole beneficiary—which is only proper, given that you’re the eldest—you would be able to allot your sisters a yearly allowance. But we needn’t discuss that just now. Now, we must leave.”

“Leave?” Hope repeated, utterly confused. “Have you completely lost your mind, Jacob?”

“I love you, Hope. I always have and it was my own foolishness that separated us, but no more,” he said earnestly, pulling her towards the doorway. “All that matters now is that we can be together, with financial independence.”

Hope kept shaking her head. She wasn’t sure if she should laugh or cry or scream as she sorted through a dozen emotions. She tried to tug her hand out of his grasp.

“You really must let me go.”

“But Hope—”

“Let go, Jacob.”

“Get your fucking hands off my wife,” a dark, threatening growl sounded from the doorway.