Page 21 of Hope in the Highlands (Seduced in Scotland #1)

Hope entered the old building with the faded sign over its door cautiously. The Cock and Sparrow Inn seemed dark and dangerous and she soon realized that Rose had been right. It was not the sort of country inn she and her sisters had stayed at during their journey north. Though there were plenty of south-facing windows, they were so grimy and dirt-covered that the only light came from candlesticks on every other table. Scents of sour beer, unwashed bodies and stale beer assaulted Hope’s nose, but she tried to keep her face expressionless.

The barman and two other men glared up with suspicious scowls immediately upon her entering and watched her as she made her way toward them.

“Excuse me,” she said, trying to sound brave. “I'm searching for a man—”

“Piss off,” the barman growled at her.

Hope inhaled sharply, taken aback by such hostility. Never in her life had someone spoken to her so rudely.

“Excuse me?”

“Yer heard me, ya damn English pidgin,” he said, attempting to clean out a dirty glass with a soiled rag.

Hope's eyes flickered to the man's hands before lifting back to meet his gaze. Swallowing hard, she held her chin up and tried again.

“Mr. Jacob Pennington?” she pressed on. “He is supposedly staying here for a few days.”

The barman shifted closer to the two suspicious characters. Hope followed his gaze, but the two only huddled together, covering their faces with their hands. Hope considered going over to confront them, but the barman's voice sounded behind her.

“Ack, is it that,” he tipped his chin across the room, “English prat you be wanting fer?”

Hope's head whipped back around to see the feet of a man descending the stairs.

“Hope?” Jacob said as he saw her.

The crisp, cultured accent was so drastically different from the barman that Hope nearly didn’t understand him at first.

“I can’t believe you’re really here,” he said, coming to her with his hands out stretched, looking behind her. “Did you come alone?”

“Yes,” she said as he pulled her towards a table. She sat down as he pulled out the chair for her and then moved around to sit down himself.

“That wasn’t very smart,” he said, frowning. “It’s dangerous around here.”

His gaze traveled past Hope's shoulder. She looked back and noticed the barman and the two other individuals were staring at them.

“It’s all right,” she said, facing him again. “I’ve been back and forth on the main road many times in the past few months.”

“Still. Perhaps we should find some privacy,” Jacob said standing as he nodded his head towards the stairs.

An internal self-preservation alarm immediately sounded within her. Besides, she wasn’t all that excited to be alone with Jacob. In fact, she would much prefer to stay in the view of others while they spoke.

She remained seated.

“I'm not sure that is a good idea,” she said. “This is just fine.”

Jacob bent forward.

“I don't think it would be wise to continue this discussion here,” he said in a low voice.

Hope frowned, but followed Jacob’s darting eyes. The two men who were sitting in the far corner seemed very interested in her. They were staring intently and a sick feeling began to crawl up her spine.

“Very well, but only for a moment,” she said standing and followed him up the narrow staircase.

The inn was ancient and not well-kept. There were four doors along the hallway upstairs, and Hope followed Jacob into the first room on the left. It was a dingy, sparsely filled room, but there was a length of yellow and blue plaid slung over a chair in the corner. Hope wrinkled her nose at the stench of smoke in the room.

“Jacob, what are you doing here?” she asked, only to be stopped by his raised hand.

“I'm so happy you've reconsidered my offer, Hope. I knew you would eventually come to your senses.”

“Come to my senses?”

“Yes. My letter convinced you.”

Hope frowned.

“Your… oh, no,” she said as the realization dawned on her. “No, Jacob, that's not why I've come here.”

“Isn't it, my love?” he asked, coming towards her, hands outstretched. “I thought I lost you forever to that brute.”

“Graham isn’t a brute. And he’s actually the exact reason I've come here.”

“He is? How so?”

“Well, while I’m very grateful for your loyal friendship in coming all the way to Scotland to make sure I was all right, I wanted you to know that I do still, intend to marry Mr. MacKinnon, that is, after we have a very long discussion about what has transpired between us. You see, I’m not a smart or as spiteful as I should be. I love Mr. MacKinnon, and I know it is a true love because I’m not willing to give up on it. But that said, I wanted to come here and tell you how much I appreciate your concern for me and my wellbeing.”

Jacob paused in his packing as Hope swallowed. Graham had hurt her deeply and while she didn’t intent to forgive him so easily for his deception, she had concluded that morning that she loved him and she truly believed that he loved her, despite everything. It wasn’t a great feeling, loving someone who had betrayed her, but it made marrying anyone she didn’t love seem impossible.

Graham had deceived her and even though she knew it was foolish, the optimist in her believed him when he told her his feelings for her were genuine and that he knew he had made a grave mistake.

Jacob turned to face her, his expression stony.

“You know he only wants you for your inheritance, my pearl. Ever since it was published in the papers that you would inherit your aunt’s entire estate, it’s all anyone in London has talked about. Everyone knows he’s using you.”

That stung, but Hope squared her shoulders.

“And you decided to come here strictly because you love me?” she asked, unconvinced. “You left me in my hour of need, Jacob, and while I’ve been more than understanding as to why, you didn’t believe that I would rush back to you, now that I’m some sort of heiress, did you?”

Jacob scowled.

“Now, see here—”

“And Graham doesn’t need my inheritance. He has a very successful business. Bee hives, actually.”

“Bee hives? What a plebeian pursuit.”

Hope took a deep breath and ignored him. He would never understand the work Graham did, and she would not waste her breath trying to explain it to him.

“So, you didn't come here to run away with me?”

Hope tried to look sorry.

“No.”

“Ah. Well, that does change things, I suppose.” He shifted back toward the door. The distinctive sound of a click reverberated through the room, and Hope’s heart sank before she even had a chance to realize what was going on.

“Jacob—”

“You see, I had hoped to convince you in person to reconsider our relationship. When that brute attacked me and forced me to leave, I had hoped that my words, written out in expertly written prose, would help convince you, to remind you of my love.”

“Jacob, there was never any love between us.”

“But now I see that I have no choice,” he continued, rotating around to face her. “This is for the best. You will realize that and will forgive me one day.”

“Forgive you for what?” She backed away as her skin prickled with a warning. “What do you intend to do?”

“To take you away, just as I told you before,” he said. “Far enough away where your MacKinnon can't find us, though I doubt he’ll go through the trouble. Once settled, we'll petition for your inheritance and live as we always hoped we would.”

A sinking feeling settled in her stomach. He was mad. Surely he didn’t believe that she would willing go with him?

“Jacob, there isn't a place anywhere on this green earth where you could keep me without me immediately running back here, I assure you that.”

Hope backed away with her hands behind her back. An oil lamp on the table behind her tipped slightly as she bumped into it, but she steadied it.

“Well, perhaps after our wedding you won’t feel that way,” he said, his eyes roaming over her body.

Hope's fingers grazed the glass oil lamp, and she clasped it in her hand.

“I shan't forgive you for any of this,” she said, and as quick as she could, she rounded her arm around her body and slammed the oil lamp into the side of Jacob's skull.

“AUGH!”

Hope dodged around him as he screamed. She reached the door, but he lunged after her, his hands clawing around her waist.

“Let me go!” she yelled as he fisted his hands in her skirts to keep her from getting away.

Jacob pulled her back, tearing one of her sleeves nearly clean off her gown and tossing her on the straw-filled bed behind them. Hope watched in horror the streams of blood coursing down his face. The glass must have cut him.

“You little bitch!” he seethed.

Flinching, she tried to remember if Jacob had ever cursed in front of her before. He stomped towards her, and Hope instinctively pulled her legs up. In a last-ditch attempt to keep him from reaching her, she had begun to kick with all her might when a voice from somewhere downstairs called her name.

“Hope?”

“Graham?” she whispered to herself before yelling out loud. “GRAHAM!”

Jacob, apparently in a panic, tried to lodge a chair against the door to block any entry, but his efforts were stymied when the entire thing began to creak and break as it was torn off its hinges. Hope scrambled back further onto the bed as Graham busted through the door. His eyes searched her form, and though she didn't think it possible, his furious face contorted even further. He emanated pure rage.

Jacob tried to climb out of the filthy window, but Graham grabbed him and slammed his fist directly into his jaw, holding him up off his feet. Hope screamed, her hands flying up to cover her face in an attempt to hide from the brutality of the scene before her. A thud followed, and Hope peered through her fingers. Graham had dropped Jacob, and she realized he had been knocked unconscious.

Frozen for a moment, Hope stared at Graham’s profile. His chest heaved up and down as he glared down at the heap on the floor. Nostrils flared and a deep set of vertical wrinkles between his brow told her he was furious.

Slowly, his head turned, and his eyes locked with hers. The breath went out of her beneath his gaze. Pushing off the bed to stand on unsteady legs, Hope moved towards him.

“Graham?” she said shakily.

“What the hell were you thinking?” he snapped at her, causing her to freeze. “You could have been raped! Or maimed! He could have bloody well killed you!”

“Graham, I—”

“Have you lost your ever-loving mind? Riding off without anyone knowing where you’ve gone to—”

“Graham, please—”

But he didn’t let her finish. In the next second, Graham grabbed her wrist and hauled her roughly against his chest. A gust of breath escaped her, and before she could speak, his mouth found hers.

Hope’s mind was swimming as his hands roamed gently all over her body. His kiss was deep and desperate and her arms wrapped around his neck, unwilling to let him go. His arms wrapped around her waist and back, lifting her out the door as he backed out of the room.

“Forgive me, Hope,” he begged, his voice raspy as he leaned his forehead against hers. “I should have told you about Belle’s offer from the beginning.” Hope searched his eyes, unsure how to respond. She had planned to be angry and standoffish with him, but all her plans had gone out the window. Instead, she stayed silent—and he continued. “I love you for you, Hope. Not for Lismore, or your inheritance or anything. Just you.”

“I love you too, Graham,” she said softly, planting tiny kisses across his mouth as he sighed.

“Will ye forgive me?”

She paused and looked deep into his eyes.

“I don’t know if I can just yet,” she said. Her words were shaky, but she forced them out. She needed to say them. “But I think I could, with time. I think I will.”

He was quiet for a moment and she worried that she had upset him, when he squeezed her.

“I understand,” he whispered against her mouth. “I do.” Hope’s heart expanded with gratitude. “How long do you think it might take, though? For you to forgive me, I mean.” She nodded, doubtfully, but the look in his eye seemed to edge her on. “Sixty years or so?”

Hope let out a surprised laugh and nodded her head slowly.

“Yes, possibly,” she said as he smiled down at her.

“Good. Then I should like to spend the next sixty years or so in your debt.”

Tears falling down her cheeks, Hope nodded as Graham leaned in and kissed her again. In her heart, she had already forgiven him.

She was sure she was melting into him when he turned and carried her down the first two steps. She forced herself to pull away.

“G-Graham,” she stuttered, knowing they would soon be in full sight of the guests below. “We’ll be seen.”

“Aye.”

She thought for a moment that he might concede, but in the next second, she saw him bend before her, and suddenly his hands gripped her around her thighs as he heaved her over his shoulder.

“Graham! Let me go this instant!”

“Never again.”

He ignored her frustrated huffs, not seeming fazed at all despite the inherent ridiculousness of their positions. Hope hid her face as he walked her down the stairs, ignoring the hoots and hollers from the barmen and his customers. He marched her out of the tavern and into the twilight. Finding her horse, he took the reins and walked it to his. Lifting her up on his own steed, he sat behind her, and they left in a fast trot.

Hope frowned as she realized they weren’t heading back to Lismore Hall.

“Graham, where are we going?”

“To see Rory.”

The name was vaguely familiar, but Hope couldn’t place it.

“Who?”

“The blacksmith.”

“Why are we going to a blacksmith?”

“Because we have some business to tend to.”

Realization dawned on Hope.

“Do you mean… Are we to be married? Tonight?”

“Aye.”

“But the church! And the flowers and all the guests.”

“Aye, we’ll do that too,” he said, holding her tightly to him, his mouth warm on her ear. “But I’ll not let you go one more day without being my wife.”

A swell of satisfaction popped in her chest and she snuggled back into his strong body.

“Aye,” was all she said in response.