“Hope,” she began, her voice unusually small. “Can we talk?”
“Miss Faith,” Logan said loudly, coming around Hope. “A word, if I may?”
“Perhaps in a bit, Faith,” Hope said, peering over her shoulder. “I wish to stay with Graham for a little while.”
Faith bit her lip as her hands came together. It seemed she wished to say more, but when Logan came towards her, something surprising flashed across Faith’s face—a look of pureloathing. With a jerky nod to Hope, she turned quickly and disappeared through the door, followed by an impatient-looking Logan.
Shutting out the madness of the world behind, Hope leaned her back against the door and observed Graham from a distance. Though the darkness of the room caused dozens of shadows to stretch out across the bed, especially with the storm raging outside, a small, orange glow of light coming from a series of oil lamps that had been lit for Dr. Hall cast Graham in an almost unnatural aura. She could see that he was staring at her through a thin veil of pain, alcohol, and worry, and it hurt her heart to think of him in any sort of discomfort. Still, she remained where she was, unsure if she should go to him.
He, however, was not unsure.
“Come here,” he ordered.
Hope pushed off the door and came over to the side of the bed. He seemed exhausted, and she wondered if he shouldn’t attempt to sleep rather than talk.
“How does it feel?” she asked, watching him with concern.
“Wonderful,” he said sarcastically. His good arm crossed over his chest and he reached for her hand, which she willingly gave him. “Listen, Hope, about the other day. I’m sorry—”
“Oh no, Graham, you don’t have to—”
“Aye, I do.” He tried to sit up, but he winced, which caused Hope to lean closer. “I shouldna been acting as I did after our argument. It was wrong of me.”
The slur of his speech made his accent sound thicker, his brogue broadening. Was it the wound that caused it or the alcohol she wondered.
“Graham, really, it’s fine—”
“Will you hush so I can apologize?” he said. She snapped her mouth shut and he continued. “I know the announcement in the papers wasn’t your fault and I shouldna snapped at you as I did.” Hope’s heart fluttered at his apology. Hehadbeen wrong to snap at her, but it pleased her to know that he wasn’t the sort of man that was too stubborn to ever admit to his own faults. He inhaled. “As for Penedragon—”
“Pennington.”
“Aye, him,” he said, taking a breath. He flinched slightly and, though Hope tried to comfort him, he batted her hand away. “I suppose I canne be angry about things that happened before we met.”
“No, you certainly can’t.”
Graham scowled, and it reminded Hope of the face a child would make when he was being scolded.
“But I’m not pleased about it either,” he continued. Hope gave him a strained smile. He went on. “I know it’s not good of me, but imagining you with any other man makes irrational. And I think it’s unfair of you to say I shouldne get upset—”
“Is this an apology?”
“—but know that I won’t be letting my temper get the better of me anymore. You don’t deserve it, even if Pottington deserves to have his throat ripped out for hurting you.”
He was never going to say Jacob’s name correctly. Hope’s hand crept up his neck and she brushed the stubble on his chin.
“But Pennington and I were never together. Not the way you and I…” She trailed off.
“Aye, which is almost worse. Ye and him shared something special, something more than physical, and I know it’s wrong of me, but I hate it.”
Hope leaned forward and put her hands flat against Graham’s warm cheeks.
“You, Graham MacKinnon, are the only man I have ever shared anything special with. Do you understand?” He stared at her for a long moment, seemingly hypnotized by her. He nodded slowly. “Then know there is never a need for you to be jealous. Ours will be a marriage built on trust, and you will never have any reason to doubt me. I promise.”
His gaze dropped and Hope assumed that speaking so honestly about her feelings made him uncomfortable. He coughed into his hand and she leaned back, giving him some space.
“I want you to know that I do care about you, Hope,” he said, his voice strained slightly. Probably due to his injury. “Even though I might have started this wrong, believe me about that.”
A tingling sensation swept across the back of her neck, making the tiny hairs stand on end. What was he talking about? His eyelids dipped and Hope assumed the medicine was making him drowsy and perhaps a little confused.
