Page 19 of Hope in the Highlands (Seduced in Scotland #1)

For the next few days days, Hope stayed in her room, unwilling to venture down to the rooms below. She had nearly confronted Belle the day Graham left, but she had felt too humiliated to face the woman who had all but tried to sell her in marriage. Instead, she had sequestered herself in her bedchamber. Grace and Una had to inquire if she was eating or sleeping, but Faith didn’t come and Hope wondered if Faith was feeling sorry or smug for having been right from the beginning.

Hope certainly felt like a fool for not believing her. What an idiot she had been. She was far too willing to believe in people, especially men she fancied and it blinded her to their faults.

Graham had been right. She trusted people too much.

How she hated his arrogance, the sureness with which he spoke. His possessiveness both irked and aroused her and she was sure that he would bully his way back into her life. Instead, he had disappeared, breaking her heart even further. Although she had asked him to leave, she hadn’t believed that he truly would, and it felt like a fresh betrayal.

Now, locked away in her room with the curtains draw, she could remember every touch, every kiss from his mouth. She could no longer be sure any of them had been sincere… but that didn’t change how they affected her. She hated herself for longing for him, for wanting his despite everything he had done.

This wasn’t how life was supposed to go. Hope had long believed that marriage would be a pleasant enough event. One where she and her husband would be cordial and respectful to one another while not sharing too much of themselves. She’d had years of fantasies of being Jacob’s wife and never in her wildest dreams had she ever believed that there would be a great amount of passion between them.

But Hope’s entire world had changed the moment she met Graham.

Ever since their first kiss, Hope had felt a part of her awaken, as if she had been half asleep her entire life. Graham had made her feel things that she had never conceived of and the end result was that she had grown and changed since first coming to Scotland. Hope would never shrink herself to fit into another person’s world again.

No. Hope would know happiness. Loud and wild and beautiful happiness. That was what she demanded from life, and she would never let anyone else deter her from it.

Not even Graham.

A soft knock sounded at the door and Hope barely lifted her head. The morning sun fought through the cracks in the drapes from the windows, creating sharp lines of light across the dark room.

Someone pushed the door open, coming into the room a few steps before turning around.

“Come on,” she heard Grace whispered.

Hope could see Faith enter the room behind Grace, who came up to the side of the bed.

“Good morning,” she said softly. Hope didn’t move, and instead looked up at her, upside down as she laid on her back. “How are you feeling today?”

“How should I feel?”

“I don’t know,” Grace said, sitting on the bed next to her. “Well rested perhaps?”

Hope snorted and rolled to her stomach before pressing herself up to a seated position. Faith stood several feet away, hands behind her back. Her face was drawn and her mouth pressed into a thin line. Hope wondered why she seemed so nervous.

“Come to tell me I was wrong?” Hope asked, her hands coming together in her lap. She began to pick her thumbnail. “That I should have believed you? Well, you needn’t bother. I’m already aware.”

Faith’s head snapped up and she came forward, reaching for her sister’s hand.

“No, Hope. I… I wanted to tell you how sorry I am.”

“Sorry?”

“Yes. I didn’t want to be right. Well,” she paused, looking sheepish. “That’s not completely true. I do like being correct, but I didn’t know how you felt about Mr. McKinnon, not truly. I thought you fancied him as much as you used to fancy Pennington.”

“But I didn’t just fancy Pennington. I loved him,” she said.

But Faith just shook her head.

“No, you were fond of Pennington, but I don’t think you ever truly loved him because deep down, you knew he was never worthy of it. He represented a way for us to carry on, but when he discarded you, you didn’t suffer any true heartache. Only a worry that Grace and I would have no one to care for us.”

Looking back, Hope could see that she had cared more for her sisters’ wellbeing than for Jacob’s dismissal. Perhaps Faith was right and she had never loved Jacob at all. She knew what she felt for Graham was worlds apart in comparison, but that only made her situation so much worse.

How could love be so painful? Perhaps it would be smarter to marry someone who couldn’t hurt her so much.

Hope moved towards the edge of the bed and gingerly swung one leg over the end.

“So?” she said, knowing nothing could mend her relationship with Graham. “What difference does it make in the end which of the men I loved most? One is still willing to marry me and the other… has gone away.”

“But you told him to go.”

“Yes, because I couldn’t let him stay. Not after learning the truth,” she said bitterly, closing her eyes to fight back the tears. She shook her head. “Perhaps I should reconsider Jacob’s offer.”

“No!” Grace said, her hand coming to her mouth. “Why on earth would you do that?”

“Because at least with Jacob, I won’t have to be forever reminded that Graham lied to me.”

“You can’t, Hope,” Faith said. “Pennington doesn’t care about you. Not the way MacKinnon does.”

“You don’t understand, Faith.”

“I understand you love MacKinnon and he loves you, despite all this business about the silly house,” she said earnestly. “Please. Don’t marry Pennington just because MacKinnon made a mistake.”

But Hope had already made up her mind. An image of her future with Jacob played out before her eyes. They would live in a suitable townhouse in some fashionable district in London, such as Mayfair or Belgrave. He would go to work and she would care for the house. They would have dinners with his colleagues and friends and every day would be the same. There would be nothing painful or hurtful because Hope would never give her heart to him and they would live the next forty years or more in utter, peaceful mediocrity.

Yes, she thought sadly. There would be no room for any hurt in her life with Jacob.

“Please, Hope,” Grace begged, shaking her from her thoughts. “Don’t make any rash decisions.”

Hope wanted to laugh, but it stuck in her throat. Rash? Rash had been believing in Graham. Rash had been searching him out every time she had been close to him. Rash had been falling in love with a man who only wanted to marry her to gain a house.

She forced a smile to her lips.

“No, of course not,” she said, though she didn’t believe it. “Perhaps I should get dressed today.”

Grace’s eyes lit up. “A wonderful idea. Let’s go down to breakfast.”

“I should like to speak with Aunt Belle first,” Hope said as she clambered off the bed. “Alone.”

Both sisters watched her as she walked across the room to the wardrobe. Yes, she would say her piece to Belle. Straightening her shoulders, she selected a burgundy gown, one that reflected her somber mood.

Her sisters helped her dress in silence, apparently too anxious to ask what she would say to Belle when Hope confronted her. She had refused to speak with her since Graham’s departure, but as she laced up her ankle boots, she had a fair idea of what she would say to her elderly aunt.

As she marched down the hallway, the walls of this castle seemed confining. She wanted to be away from this place, from all the people within.

Hope found Belle in her office, hunched over her desk as she usually was, writing a letter as Andrews stood behind her. When she knocked on the open door to announce her entrance, Belle looked up and a faint smile touched her lips.

“Andrews, if you’ll excuse us,” she said as the butler nodded, moving past Hope, who waited for him to close the door behind him before she spoke.

“Aunt Belle.”

“How are you my dear?” she said, struggling to stand. “Do sit down.”

“No,” Hope said, as her aunt paused, partially up out of her chair. “Thank you, but I’ll only be a moment.” Belle gave her a nod and sat back down. Hope took a deep breath. “I would like to know when you and Graham first came up with the idea of marrying me off.”

“My dear, it was never some wicked plot to marry you off.”

“Please,” Hope said, holding up her hand. “No more lies.”

Belle watched her for a long moment before finally exhaling.

“It was my idea,” she said, sounding defeated. “I presented it to MacKinnon the day after I received news about my sister’s death.”

“And you assumed he would be eager to marry me so that he might gain ownership of Lismore?”

“Heavens no,” Belle said, but Hope squinted at her. “Well, yes, I suppose, but it was never about Lismore.”

“Wasn’t it?”

“No, my dear. Your grandmother was so worried that she had failed in making you a proper match and she wanted me to help.”

“She… What?” Hope asked, confused.

Belle reached across her desk and pulled a pretty, maple wood box towards her. It was beautifully carved, with a painted rose on top. Lift the lid, she pulled out a stack of letters and pulled the top one off the pile.

“My sister and I may have been very different women, but we were still sisters. We wrote to each other weekly for forty years,” she said, looking down at the letter she held. “Her last letter was a jumble of worries and sadness. She wasn’t particularly pleased with your Mr. Pennington, for having dragged his feet for so long. She worried that he might not follow through. She wanted you married and protected and asked if I knew of anyone who might be a suitable match for you.”

“And you thought of Graham?”

“I did. He is as fine a gentleman as any I have ever known and I had grown quite fond of him. I thought you and he would suit greatly and so I wrote her that I knew of someone, but she died before she received it.” Belle’s eyes misted over. “It was the last thing I could do for my sister, to see you married to someone who would love you.”

“But he doesn’t love me.”

Belle gave her a queer smile.

“Of course, he does my dear,” she said. “He wouldn’t have proposed if he didn’t wish to marry you.”

“Wanting to marry me is not the same as wanting me . He only wanted to marry me because of the castle.”

“Lismore was an incentive, yes, and I may have tried to manage it a bit heavy handedly at first, but a man like MacKinnon would never commit to a lifetime of misery for a house. Not even if he was desperate to own it.”

Hope was silent for a while, unable to believe it. The wound was too fresh and too raw for her to be practical in this moment. More than that, she didn’t want to be practical and forgiving. She was done being hurt by men.

“No,” Hope said, turning to leave. “I cannot forgive him.”

“Hope, wait.”

She left the room quickly, despite her aunt’s pleas to stop and come back. She didn’t want to be tricked and manipulated by her anymore. As she made her way down the hallway, fighting tears, a footman approached, holding a silver tray topped with a letter.

“For you, miss,” he said.

Taking it, she heard Jeanne’s cheerful voice coming from the dining room. Stuffing the note in her pocket, she came into the dining room to find her sisters, Rose and Jeanne all seated around the table.

Several plates of poached eggs, steaming puddings and bacon and towers of toast lined the table. Everyone quieted as Hope entered. Trying to appear cheerful, she gave them all a brittle smile.

“Good morning,” she said, heading towards the buffet table. “I didn’t expect you this morning, Jeanne.”

Jeanne was wearing a smart yellow day gown with a lavender sash. Her hair was even fixed with some violets. She looked as pretty as the day was new.

“Good to see you, Hope.”

Hope made a plate from the side table and came around to sit next to her. Faith leaned over the morning paper as she ate her toast and while Hope fixed her cup of tea, she sensed Jeanne’s gaze on her. She lifted her head and stared at the woman.

“Yes?”

“Are you all right?” Jeanne asked in a low tone.

“Yes, of course,” Hope answered. “Why do you ask?”

“Only that when I saw Graham, he looked terrible.”

The entire room froze at her words.

“Y-you saw him?” Hope asked, staring at her plate.

She wanted to know how he was fairing, but she also didn’t wish to appear as though she cared. Jeanne wouldn’t let it drop, however.

“Yes.”

“How is he?” Faith asked.

“Not well at all,” Jeanne started. “Jared found him two days ago, drunk as a skunk in the bee yard.”

Hope turned to face her.

“Oh dear,” she said under her breath, but Jeanne heard her.

“Oh yes. Nearly killed himself knocking over the hives. My brothers had to lock him in the larder overnight.”

Everyone seemed to be looking at Hope, but she didn’t wish to be dragged into this conversation. Clearing her throat, she turned to Rose.

“How is your Mr. McTavish, Rose?”

“He’s well,” she said cautiously. When no one spoke, Rose continued, a blush rising to her cheeks. “Actually, he’s asked my eldest brother Ryan if he could ask for my hand in marriage.”

“Marriage?” Jeanne said, her brow lifting with surprise. “My brother doesn’t drag his feet, does he?”

“Well, in some respects,” Rose continued, her shoulders dropping. “But he said since we’ve known each other for so long, that there’s no point in a long courtship.”

The conversation turned to Rose’s relationship and the local happenings. Hope shifted in her seat and felt the small, pointed edge of a letter press into her thigh. Taking out the letter from her pocket, she recognized the handwriting immediately. It was from Jacob. Sighing, she opened it up.

My dearest Hope,

I am beside myself with grief at having not been able to express my deep devotion and love for you when last we spoke. I pray you reconsider my offer. I am staying at the Cock and Sparrow Inn and have plans to leave by month's end. I hope you find me there so that we can pursue a life together.

Your faithful servant,

Jacob Pennington

Hope stared at the note, reading it over several times. Jacob was obviously pretending to be in love with her for her inheritance. Well, she would not be fooled again into trusting a man when he claimed to love her. Still, the idea of remaining here, in Scotland, in Belle’s home after what her aunt had done… Well, it was just too much.

As the others ate, Hope weighted her options. Since she was now an heiress, if she went seeking for a husband, she would likely have her pick of gentlemen—though they would surely all be fortune hunters. If that was to be her fate, perhaps it would be better to marry Jacob, a man who did not love her and a man she did not love, but one who offered her some sort of dependability, some familiarity akin to her old life. Hope doubted she would ever marry for love now anyway, so why not Jacob? She could return to London and eventually her time in Scotland, Graham and everything in between would become nothing more than a sad dream from her past.

Her heart had broken a dozen times since confronting Graham. She wished she could cast her feelings aside and run right back into Jacob’s arms, but even entertaining the idea made her stomach twist into knots. The truth was that regardless of everything that happened between her and Graham, she would not, could not, marry a man she did not love. Not now that she knew what love truly was.

Folding the letter up, she wondered if she should have an honest conversation with Jacob. She could write him a letter, but that seemed insufficient. She had known Jacob for years and while he hadn’t always been the most attentive person, he was still a person and deserved the hear the truth from her in person. After all, that had cared for each other once and Hope wanted to tell him just how much she appreciated his coming north to offer his assistance.

Yes. She would go to the Cock and Sparrow Inn today.