“I will,” Logan said, pointing a pamphlet at him. “Anyway, she suggested I take a few of these and read through them. I was just about to leave, but I’ll not say no to a farewell dram.”
“Fair enough,” Graham said with a nod as he went to the far wall. He poured two glasses of scotch and handed one to Logan. “Did you talk to your sister about coming to the wedding?”
“Yes, but she isn’t certain Father is up for the trip, even though he seems in better health these past few weeks. His cough has subsided.”
“Is a recovery a possibility?” Graham asked. Logan’s father had suffered from coughing fits for nearly two years.
“I’m hopeful, though Arabella is cautious,” Logan said, sipping his drink. “But enough about that. How does it feel, MacKinnon? To almost be master of Lismore Hall?”
Graham stared at his glass, spinning it in his fingers as he watched the light glimmer through the cut crystal. To be honest, it was a thought that rarely even occurred to him when he thought of marrying Hope. He had been sure he would have had some sort of visceral reaction to finally obtaining his lifelong goal, but it had barely crossed his mind the last few weeks.
“It’s daunting, I suppose. I think a part of me never really believed that I would ever get it.” The corners of Logan’s mouth turned down and he nodded, though he didn’t seem to comprehend Graham’s meaning. “How is it supposed to feel, do you reckon?”
“I would have guessed it would feel like you were finally home.”
Home. What a simple, small word and yet it was an idea that had eluded him for most of his life. He’d always thought that home was what he wanted when he pursued the return of Lismore Hall, but now when he imagined home, what he saw was Hope. He was at home with her.
Finishing his drink, abruptly aware that he hadn’t eaten anything in hours, he nodded towards Logan and turned to leave.
“Good luck with your painting,” he said.
“Oh, before you disappear, Michael wanted to let you know that he’s planning a stag stalk the week before the wedding.”
“Why?”
“Something about male bonding,” Logan said, returning to his search.
Graham grunted and left the library, unsure he wished to participate in whatever his cousin had planned.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Hope read the paper in silence; her mouth slightly open as she read the ghastly announcement in theTimes. It was the same one that had read in theHerald, as well as a dozen papers across the country that had arrived that morning to the dining room.
Hope, her sisters, Rose, and Belle all sat around the table in silence, each reading papers. It was evident that they were all thinking the same thing. To Hope’s horror, the announcement hadn’t been printed in the engagement section, but rather the gossip column.
…It has also been brought to this author’s attention that one of the Sharpes sisters has finally made her match. Miss Hope Caroline Sharpe, eldest daughter of the Honorable Abbott Sharpe, has accepted a proposal from Mr. Graham MacKinnon of Glasgow. It was previously assumed that Miss Sharpe would marry her long-time beau, Mr. Jacob Pennington. The newly minted partner at Benton and Stanley Law firm rescinded his proposal after the scandal that took place at the Spotsmore Ball. One could only assume that Miss Sharpe was devastated, losing her dearest love, but it seems Hope springs eternal.
Though little is known about the would-be businessman, it should be noted that Miss Sharpe has been named primary beneficiary of her notorious aunt, Lady Belle Smith. A fortuitous match indeed for the unknown Scot and his lady love…
“A fortuitous match?” Hope said out loud, her voice breaking as she looked up. “Graham will be mortified.”
“He’ll be incensed,” Faith said, shaking her head. “No one is going to read that and not understand what the writer is implying.”
Hope’s hand came over her face.
“Oh, why? Why did this have to be written about?” She turned to face Belle who sat at the head of the table, reading one of the dozens of papers that had been brought in. “Is this what you asked them to write?”
“Goodness no, dear,” Belle said. “I only mentioned the inheritance so that they wouldn’t question MacKinnon’s ability to care for you.”
“Sowhowouldn’t question it? The ton? London? The entire country?” Hope asked. “It reads as though I’m marrying a man who’s desperate for money to finance his failing business.” She hit the paper with her hand. “Would-be businessman? It makes Graham sound incapable.”
“Well, that just isn’t true.”
“True or not, it’s been written,” Hope said, tossing her paper away. She groaned as she folded her arms on the surface of the table and dropped her forehead down. “He’s going to be livid.”
As if summoned by the mere idea of him, a thunderous noise came from the foyer. It sounded as though the oak doors had been shoved opened, crashing against the walls behind them. Hope’s head snapped up.
“Drats,” Belle said under her breath as Graham came storming into the dining room.
