Page 18 of Hope in the Highlands (Seduced in Scotland #1)

The searing pain in Graham’s side could not compare to the rage he felt at the sight of Hope’s fingers crushed in another man’s hand. Hope’s head snapped up, her mouth agape at the sight of him.

Everything that happened next was a whirlwind. In an instant, Graham had the man by the throat, pushing him back against the edge of the dining room table as a chair fell to its side on the floor. Jacob was gasping, scratching, and clawing at the large hand that threatened to strangle him. Graham bared his teeth, his heart pounding with determination.

“Graham! Stop!” he heard Hope yell, but he barely registered it, even as she came up around to his side and wrapped her hands around the arm that pinned the sputtering Englishman in his place. She seemed to pull with all her might, but the solid muscle of his arm would not budge. “You’ll kill him!”

“So?”

“For heaven’s sake,” Hope said, fighting against his strength. “Let him go.”

“No.”

Hope let out a horrified gasp, causing him to look at her. Hope’s mouth had tightened and her nose had crinkled. He felt exposed beneath her appalled expression.

“Graham, please,” she said softly, releasing his arm. “I’m not going anywhere. Don’t kill him.”

The gentleness of her voice finally pierced through his rage. With a final squeeze, he flung the Englishman to the floor. The man gasped, rubbing his neck as he coughed.

“Assault!” he croaked after a full minute of gasping. “You should be in prison. You are a menace!”

“Get the hell out of my home or I’ll give them a real reason to send me to the gaols.”

At Graham’s threat, the Englishman’s eyes went wide and, after a fleeting gaze at Hope, he bolted out of the dining room. When the front door was slammed shut, Hope breathed a sigh of relief, but there was a hesitation to her as she came face to face with Graham.

He had scared her, he assumed. Well, too bloody bad. He wouldn’t stand for any man touching her and if she was going to try and lecture him about such things, she might as well be talking to a pile of stone.

“I’m not apologizing,” he said roughly as he stared at her. “I’ll not let you be accosted and I don’t give a damn what you say about it.” Hope’s brow drew together as she faltered a bit beneath his furious glare. She watched him with a strange curiosity, as if she were trying to read parts of his soul.

“Graham—”

“What the bloody hell was he doing here?” he bellowed, seemingly unable to control his temper.

Hope opened her mouth to speak before closing it, her eyes locked on his face. Why wasn’t she talking? Why wasn’t she trying to defend herself? Graham knew that Hope would never lie to him, yet the longer he stared at her, the more he felt exposed.

“What?” he bit out.

That seemed to snap Hope out of her puzzling silence. She shook her head before explaining.

“He read about our engagement in the paper and couldn’t believe that I would marry so quickly. But,” she said, her voice dropping. “It sounded as though he were really only interested in the inheritance part of the article.”

“Sniveling little creatin. I should—”

“Graham, did you plan to marry me only to gain ownership of Lismore?”

The words fell from her mouth like a hammer on an anvil. In that moment, everything stopped. Graham’s heartbeat, the passing of time, the world turning on its axis—all seemed to freeze. For a sickening moment he felt Hope being snatched away from him and he wanted to rage against it, but the small, slight of a woman standing before him made him go still.

It was time to tell the truth.

He took a step towards her, but instinctively she took one back, her hands coming up to stop him. The ache in his heart from not being able to touch her was unbearable.

“Hope, let me explain.”

A sharp inhale of breath.

“Oh no,” she said so softly that he barely heard her. He had confirmed that there was something that needed to be explained—which apparently had the same effect as if he’d simply said “yes.” The pain written across her face made him want to set the world on fire. He had caused it and he would walk backwards through hell to take it back, if he could.

Unable to stop himself he reached for her again, and though she tried to pull away, he refused to release her. He needed to hold her, to push out all the doubt and pain he had caused.

“Let go.”

“Hope—”

“I can’t believe this.”

“I want to marry you,” he said, his hands coming up to the sides of her face. “I wouldn’t have agreed unless I wanted you.”

She let out a bitter laugh as tears filled her eyes.

“Well, of course you did, when you had all of this to gain,” she said, gesturing to the building surrounding them. “Was the house all Belle offered you? Or was there more? The townhouse in London, perhaps? Or maybe she included the vineyard in Italy?”

“Hope, stop it—”

“Or maybe she begged,” Hope said, a humorless smile on her face. “Maybe she was so desperate to marry off her silly, spinster niece that she out right begged you to marry me. Because of what a complete and utter failure I am—”

Graham’s fingers dug into her arms, shaking her slightly as the poisonous, self-deprecating words fell from her mouth.

“Stop it,” he barked, furious and ashamed. “You’re not a failure.”

“Aren’t I?” she said, her eyes unfocused as her head bent downward. “I never could manage to do anything right. That’s what my grandmother always told me. Lord, how she must have pitied me. The way I spoke, the way I acted. My inability to focus,” she said, frowning. “Over six seasons in society, and the best I could manage was Jacob Pennington. And even he didn’t want to marry me. Not truly,” she said, her mouth contorting into a brittle half smile. “Not until I was finally worth something.”

Graham’s anger towards himself was mounting.

“Don’t say that, Hope. You’re worth everything.” A sob escaped her lips and a knife might as well have gone through his chest. “Hope, please stop crying.”

“I can’t.”

“I know you’re angry, but you have to believe me. I wouldn’t have done any of this if I didn’t feel so strongly about you.”

“Angry?” she repeated the word, her brow furrowing. “You think I’m angry?”

“Aren’t you?”

“No. No, I’m not angry.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “I am mortified.” She dropped her head, covering her face with her hands as she cried.

Graham hadn’t realized how much he had hurt her until that very moment. Quickly, he gathered her up into his arms and pressed her toward his chest. She fought him at first, but when he refused to release her, she finally gave in, crying softly into his chest as he held her close.

What sort of man am I? Graham wondered. Was he really a man who would stop at nothing to get what he wanted—regardless of who it hurt? Perhaps he wasn’t so unlike his father after all. He had been so determined to gain ownership of Lismore Hall. He had plotted and twisted his way into Hope’s life and hadn’t even the decency to tell her about one of his driving motives. No, instead he lied and cheated her. He was a bastard, but even now, through all of it, Graham couldn’t regret it because if he had Lismore Hall, it meant he had Hope too.

Finally, she pushed away from him.

“What a fool I am,” she said, her arms wrapping around her torso in a protective way. “I’ve completely ruined myself and for what?”

Graham didn’t like the sound of her words. Ruined? She wasn’t ruined at all—particularly since they were still going to be wed. He took a step forward, his large, looming form standing over her. He half expected her to cower in response, but then again, that wasn’t Hope. Even as a tremor racked through her, she refused to flinch as she glared up at him.

“You’re mine. Do you understand?” he all but growled. “We’re to be married and not you or your Pendenton or God himself will be able to undo it.”

“Do not insult me, Graham. There are other options—”

“You have no options. You’re mine.”

He was being bull-headed and intransigent, but he refused to give her up. Even if he had to sacrifice everything he owned, he wouldn’t let her go.

“Listen to me, Graham MacKinnon,” she said, squaring her shoulders. “I may be a fool—in fact, I know I am—but I’m not the sort of woman who can live unhappily for her entire life. I thought I could once, but…”

Hope shook her head, seemingly unable to explain. It was as if she were slipping away, right through his hands, like a rope he couldn’t hold on to and it shook him to his core.

Reaching for her once more, he gathered her tightly to his chest. The gentle scent of rose water perfume wafted against his nostrils and he had to fight to remember his intentions. Though he had never experienced addiction, he wondered if this was the feeling others experienced when their unattainable need broke over them.

“Graham, please let me go.”

“Over my dead body,” he said, his words rough and angry as he bent his head low. “I won’t ever let you go. You belong to me, Hope.”

Triumph surged through him as he felt the softest of pressure from her, leaning against him. She wanted him still, despite everything and it was the single most important thing in his world. She wanted him. And he wanted her, was desperate to possess every inch of her.

Didn’t she understand? She was his as much as the leaves were to the trees, as much as the rain was to the land. He stroked her cheek and kept a steady gaze on her.

“Ye belong to me because you're mine,” he rasped as his mouth came down on hers.

His hands drifted down the front of her dress and he pressed his hand into the folds of her skirts, between her legs. Her eyes fluttered close as he moved his mouth down the edge of her jawline to her ear. He felt a desperation to mark every inch of her for himself. It was intoxicating.

But just as he felt the pull of his own need, she tore out of his arms.

“Stop it,” she said, holding her hand up to stay him. She was breathing heavily. “Please, just stop. Someone will see.”

“As well they should. In case there was an ounce of doubt left in anyone’s mind about whom you belong to.”

He reached for her once more but she sidestepped him.

“Insufferable man.” She pushed past him. “I am not an object or creature you can own.” She gestured up at the ceiling. “I am not Lismore Hall.”

“I know that.”

“Do you?” she asked, her heart pleading. “I’m also not some idiot who will be swayed by kisses and empty words.”

“What words have I spoken that are untrue?” he challenged.

“What words have you spoke that were fully honest?” she countered, tears rolling down her cheeks. “I think, perhaps, that you should go.”

Every inch of Graham seemed to turn to stone as he watched her pull on the lock of hair. Though his heart beat furiously against her words, his head wondered if he hadn’t earned her condemnation. He had kept an essential truth from her from the beginning and even though his feels for her were genuine, he knew to deceive was to kill any and all feelings she might have for him.

He stood a single, shaky step forward.

“I don’t want to,” he breathed, his words broken.

Hope closed her eyes tightly, her entire face crumbling with pain as she inhaled in unsteady breaths. He knew in that moment that it was over. He had caused her too much heartache to be forgiven.

What sort of man deceived the woman he loved?

“Please, Graham. Just go.”

Without another word, he stepped around her and left the dining room. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Belle, Rose, Grace and Faith standing some yards away, huddled together like some gaggle of geese. He wanted to say something, to blame Belle for everything, but as he stalked away to the foyer, he knew it was no one’s fault but his own.

As he shoved his way through the front doors into the midmorning air, Graham felt well and truly cut off. The doors slammed behind him and he turned to give the pile of rocks a final glare. Lismore Hall had been lost once more by a MacKinnon and it should have been a torturous realization it, but all Graham could see was Hope’s heartbroken face.

He turned his back on the cursed castle, on everyone person who had ever lived there and left without a single look back.