The words stuck in her throat and she curled her fingers into her palms. Why was it so difficult to tell him how she felt about him? Was it possible that Jacob’s abandonment had hurt her so significantly that she couldn’t he honest?
No. She wouldn’t let her past ruin her future.
Her hands came up to the lapels of his coat and though he tried to pull back, she held on tightly.
“I trust you, Graham. I believe in you and I… I care for you a great deal.”
A silence followed and Hope half expected him to say something similar. Except in the next moment, his large hands came over hers and to her misery, pulled her grip from his coat.
“Don’t say that,” he said lowly.
Hope frowned, unsure why he would reply like that. Was he worried that she might still have feelings for Jacob? It wasn’t true and she needed to tell him.
“It’s true—”
But Graham wouldn’t listen. He took several steps away, his back expanding and contracting heavily, as if he was laboriously breathing. Concern filled Hope and though she was worried he’d pull away again, she went to him.
Her hands reached up and moved over his back. She wanted him to hold her, as he had in the greenhouse, and tell her there was nothing to worry about. That he wasn’t angry ather for foolish things, like her past. But instead of taking her into his arms or saying anything to comfort her, he visibly flinched beneath her palms.
“Graham,” she said, her voice cracking with emotion. “Do you… Do you still wish to marry me?”
“Aye,” he said instantly, though he wouldn’t face her.
“Then can’t we… put this behind us?”
But Graham only shook his head and moved out of her reach. The cracks of Hope’s heart seemed to fill with doubt and she balled her hands together as anger flared up within her.
“It isn’t fair,” she said quickly, the words refusing to be buried within her. “You cannot be mad at me about loving someone before I ever met you.”
He spun around and Hope half expected him to yell about something or other. Instead, he grabbed her and pressed her body against his. Bending his head down he spoke harshly into his ear.
“You shouldn’t be so damn certain of things, Hope,” he said, his hands roaming over her body. She closed her eyes, eagerly accepting his touch. “You believe too easily in people.”
She frowned.
“So what if I believed in Jacob?” she asked. “I believe in you now, don’t I?”
The words seemed to burn him and he released her with a violent curse. She stumbled backwards, unsure what meaning to give to the shadows that passed over his face as he held his hands up, to barred her from coming towards him.
“This changes nothing,” he said gruffly, more to himself then to her. “A month from Monday.”
They were set to marry the following month and while he didn’t sound exactly pleased by the idea, Hope nodded. After which he turned on his heel and left the dining room as though the devil was chasing him.
Hope stared at the space he’d disappeared from for longer than she would have like to admit. The wedding announcement had been poorly done, but why had he been so angry with both Belle and with her? Surely he didn’t believe that was what they’d wanted to have printed.
She folded her arms across her chest as her hands crawled around her, holding herself in a half embrace that she wished she could have gotten from him, instead. Was her past really so terrible that Graham couldn’t forgive her for it? A large part of her wanted to argue, to tell him that he had no right to blame her for having fallen in love before, and yet she was afraid to challenge him because she was still worried that he would abandon her.
Unfortunately for you, I’m nothing like him. His words had been cold, but she had felt a distinct comfort in them. No. Graham was nothing like Jacob.
And for that, she would be forever grateful.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
The incident in the dining room had created a detachment between Graham and Hope in the following weeks. Though they had maintained an uneasy truce that prevented any additional outbreaks of shouting, neither had addressed the article since that morning. Where they had once been able to talk to each other so freely, there now hung a strained silence.
It had been decided that a stag hunt would take place the week prior to the wedding. Having set out with his cousins on their hunt before the sun rose, Graham was churlish, unable or unwilling to leave his dark mood.
The growing guilt seemed to be pressing against him from all sides. While Graham’s initial reaction upon reading the articles had been to rage at Belle and Hope, the truth was, he was angriest with himself for the part of the article that stated the plain and simple truth: itwasa fortunate match for him in that it would allow him to inherit the property he had always seen as his birthright. Graham had tried to reason, to argue with himself that he wouldn’t be marrying Hope if he didn’t like her and his marriage to her was simply a fortunate happenstance, but the fact remained that he was receiving enormous benefits from this match—and he had yet to share that particular detail with Hope. Her trust in him made him feel all the more wicked.
