“Be that as it may,” Grace continued. “It’s rather an unsettling thing, and I’m not sure quite how to share it with you.”
Hope’s brows pinched together as she looked back and forth between her sisters, her gaze finally settling on Faith.
“What is she talking about?”
“Listen,” Faith said after a moment. She exhaled a long breath before continuing. “I know I wasn’t exactly pleased about coming here and that I’ve made several comments about him already that might make you doubt my account, but I’m not making this up. I know what I heard.”
“Well, please, share, because I’m not sure what either of you is talking about.”
A short silence followed before Faith continued.
“The other day when Graham was brought here after being shot, you asked that I accompany him and Mr. Harris to one of the rooms upstairs,” she said, glancing up. “And I did. I tried to be as helpful as possible, but I also didn’t want to get in the way. And everyone was so frantic, I’m not sure they even noticed I was there. When Mr. Harris helped Mr. MacKinnon to his bed, I overheard Mr. MacKinnon whisper something about how ironic it would be to die in the same house where he was born, having never once lived here since that day, and Mr. Harris said… Well, he… I’m afraid…”
“What?” Hope asked, a twisting sort of warning snaked through her body. “What did he say?”
“He said he only needed to hold on a few more days and it would be his.” Faith’s gaze met Hope’s as she looked her squarely in the eye. “He said,remember the plan, old boy.”
Hope stared at her sister for a long time before a humorless snort escaped her mouth. She shook her head and looked at Grace, who had stopped wringing her hands and appeared rather pale.
Plan? What plan? Hope shook her head again, trying to unstick some thought that wouldn’t leave. The plan to what? Marry her to gain ownership of Lismore Hall?
No, that couldn’t be…
“That’s preposterous,” she said breathlessly, not to anyone in particular. “Graham didn’t ask me to marry him because of this house.” She looked back and for the between each sister. “He didn’t want to marry me. Remember? At Elk Manor, he was furious—”
“—that you and he had nearly been caught alone together,” Faith said. “Rose came to your aid and kept you from being compromised. You thought he was angry that you’d nearly been caught, but what if he was angry that youhadn’tbeen caught—hadn’t been forced to get engaged right away? What if that was his plan?”
“There was no plan,” Hope said, her anger getting the better of her. Closing her eyes, she tried to breathe steadily. She felt as though her body was being pulled beneath the earth, as though she were in a sort of quicksand. “What sort of plan would there be?”
“A plot to regain this house by marrying the woman who will inherit it,” Grace said gently.
“No. There isn’t any plot,” Hope started as she stood up, suddenly without appetite. “But if there was one, Graham certainly wouldn’t be a part of it. He couldn’t.”
Though neither of her sisters argued any further, neither appeared convinced. Hope swallowed back the bile that rose in her throat, replaying the words she had just heard. An uncomfortable heat crawled up Hope’s spine.This isn’t happening, she thought miserably. Surely it wasn’t true. It couldn’t be true.
But then, cold and uncomfortable zings lit up across her skin. It was like being pelted with bits of hail. Why did the truth always hurt so much? Her fingers braced against the back of her chair, painfully digging into the wood.
Hope wondered why she hadn’t realized it before.
Of course, Graham would want to marry her so he could regain Lismore Hall.
Her stomach turned with nausea as she pressed the heel of her palm to her head. Oh, could she have been so blind? So blatantly foolish? She should have known better.
Her heart beat erratically. What an idiot she was. Turning, Hope headed toward the doorway that led out into the hall. She needed to speak with Graham.
“Hope?” Grace called from behind, but she didn’t stop.
Glancing up to her left, she saw the massive painting of Graham’s grandfather staring down at her. He seemed rather annoyed, as if he didn’t appreciate her, and a furious burst of animosity echoed in her heart towards the long dead man. Frowning, she glared at the painting.
“You’ve no right to glower at me,” she said.
“I wasn’t glowering.”
Hope jumped, terrified at hearing that voice she knew all too well. It was Jacob Pennington, standing next to an annoyed looking Una.
“Begging your pardon, Miss Sharpe, but Mr. Pennington only just arrived. I was coming to tell you.”
“Uh, yes. Of course, It’s all right,” Hope said blinking, as if she was seeing things.
