“You are never caught in such compromising positions?”
“No,” he answered, his tone surprisingly solemn. “I wouldn’t allow it.”
“You wouldn’t allow it?” she repeated. “Are you afraid of being embarrassed?”
“Afraid? No, but I don't know anyone who enjoys it,” he said.
Hope wondered if he was ashamed of his father's loss of Lismore Hall. She wished she could ask about it, but it seemed too private, too personal a matter to broach with him. Deciding to keep their conversation light, she walked away from him, knowing he'd follow.
“I don't like being embarrassed either,” Hope said, her eyes dropping down. “But I don’t consider vulnerability a weakness.”
“Vulnerability is a synonym for weakness.”
“It is not,” she countered. “Why, I know of a story about a musical conductor whose vulnerability saved his life.”
Graham gave her a skeptical look.
“I don't believe it.”
“It's true. You see, the conductor was so in love with his wife that he wrote her a melody that was meant for only her to hear.”
“It this a story—”
“It would be if you didn’t interrupt,” she quipped before continuing. “Now unfortunately, some years later, the conductor found himself on hard times and had to sell his composition. Though he thought he would be mortified to release to the public this deeply personal piece of music, he was rather regaled as one of the great musicians of his time.” She glanced around, watching a pair of squirrels chasing each other around the base of a tree. “All because he had decided to be vulnerable.”
He was quiet for a long time before he spoke.
“That's a load of hogwash,” Graham said.
Hope frowned. It had been a story that Jacob had told her during their courtship.
“It is not; it's true.”
“That sounds like some romantic swill a man would tell to a lady he's trying to…” He broke off as he saw her face. “Ochs. I didn't mean to say that.”
“Yes, you did,” she said, her gaze on the ground before them.
“Well, perhaps. You're not mad about it, though, are you?”
“No.”
A pause followed. When she glanced up, she saw a rather infuriating smirk tugged at his lips.
“You are. Why? Because I called you a romantic?”
“I must be going, Mr. MacKinnon. Thank you for escorting me.”
“Wait—”
“I really must be off.”
And with that, she faded into the crowd, eager to be out of his presence. What did he know about romance? It was obvious that Graham had never been in love. Therefore, he had no idea what he was talking about. He had obviously never desired anyone, never yearned to be held and cherished, and…
Shame slammed into Hope. Her insides crumbled as her shoulders slumped. Perhaps Jacob had been correct. Perhaps she really was as wanton as her family.
CHAPTER SIX
Belle had insisted that Hope and her sisters treat Lismore Hall as their home, and over the next several days, that was exactly what they did. While Faith had set up her easel and watercolors in the east hall gallery, Grace happily explored the library where a vast number of medical books had been gathering dust for years.
