Hope moved towards the edge of the bed and gingerly swung one leg over the end.
“So?” she said, knowing nothing could mend her relationship with Graham. “What difference does it make in the end which of the men I loved most? One is still willing to marry me and the other… has gone away.”
“But you told him to go.”
“Yes, because I couldn’t let him stay. Not after learning the truth,” she said bitterly, closing her eyes to fight back the tears. She shook her head. “Perhaps I should reconsider Jacob’s offer.”
“No!” Grace said, her hand coming to her mouth. “Why on earth would you do that?”
“Because at least with Jacob, I won’t have to be forever reminded that Graham lied to me.”
“You can’t, Hope,” Faith said. “Pennington doesn’t care about you. Not the way MacKinnon does.”
“You don’t understand, Faith.”
“I understand you love MacKinnon and he loves you, despite all this business about the silly house,” she said earnestly. “Please. Don’t marry Pennington just because MacKinnon made a mistake.”
But Hope had already made up her mind. An image of her future with Jacob played out before her eyes. They would live in a suitable townhouse in some fashionable district in London, such as Mayfair or Belgrave. He would go to work and she would care for the house. They would have dinners with his colleagues and friends and every day would be the same. There would be nothing painful or hurtful because Hope would never give her heart to him and they would live the next forty years or more in utter, peaceful mediocrity.
Yes, she thought sadly. There would be no room for any hurt in her life with Jacob.
“Please, Hope,” Grace begged, shaking her from her thoughts. “Don’t make any rash decisions.”
Hope wanted to laugh, but it stuck in her throat. Rash? Rash had been believing in Graham. Rash had been searching him out every time she had been close to him. Rash had been falling in love with a man who only wanted to marry her to gain a house.
She forced a smile to her lips.
“No, of course not,” she said, though she didn’t believe it. “Perhaps I should get dressed today.”
Grace’s eyes lit up. “A wonderful idea. Let’s go down to breakfast.”
“I should like to speak with Aunt Belle first,” Hope said as she clambered off the bed. “Alone.”
Both sisters watched her as she walked across the room to the wardrobe. Yes, she would say her piece to Belle. Straightening her shoulders, she selected a burgundy gown, one that reflected her somber mood.
Her sisters helped her dress in silence, apparently too anxious to ask what she would say to Belle when Hope confronted her. She had refused to speak with her since Graham’s departure, but as she laced up her ankle boots, she had a fair idea of what she would say to her elderly aunt.
As she marched down the hallway, the walls of this castle seemed confining. She wanted to be away from this place, from all the people within.
Hope found Belle in her office, hunched over her desk as she usually was, writing a letter as Andrews stood behind her. When she knocked on the open door to announce her entrance, Belle looked up and a faint smile touched her lips.
“Andrews, if you’ll excuse us,” she said as the butler nodded, moving past Hope, who waited for him to close the door behind him before she spoke.
“Aunt Belle.”
“How are you my dear?” she said, struggling to stand. “Do sit down.”
“No,” Hope said, as her aunt paused, partially up out of her chair. “Thank you, but I’ll only be a moment.” Belle gave her a nod and sat back down. Hope took a deep breath. “I would like to know when you and Graham first came up with the idea of marrying me off.”
“My dear, it was never some wicked plot to marry you off.”
“Please,” Hope said, holding up her hand. “No more lies.”
Belle watched her for a long moment before finally exhaling.
“It was my idea,” she said, sounding defeated. “I presented it to MacKinnon the day after I received news about my sister’s death.”
“And you assumed he would be eager to marry me so that he might gain ownership of Lismore?”
