“Heavens no,” Belle said, but Hope squinted at her. “Well, yes, I suppose, but it was never about Lismore.”
“Wasn’t it?”
“No, my dear. Your grandmother was so worried that she had failed in making you a proper match and she wanted me to help.”
“She… What?” Hope asked, confused.
Belle reached across her desk and pulled a pretty, maple wood box towards her. It was beautifully carved, with a painted rose on top. Lift the lid, she pulled out a stack of letters and pulled the top one off the pile.
“My sister and I may have been very different women, but we were still sisters. We wrote to each other weekly for forty years,” she said, looking down at the letter she held. “Her last letter was a jumble of worries and sadness. She wasn’t particularly pleased with your Mr. Pennington, for havingdragged his feet for so long. She worried that he might not follow through. She wanted you married and protected and asked if I knew of anyone who might be a suitable match for you.”
“And you thought of Graham?”
“I did. He is as fine a gentleman as any I have ever known and I had grown quite fond of him. I thought you and he would suit greatly and so I wrote her that I knew of someone, but she died before she received it.” Belle’s eyes misted over. “It was the last thing I could do for my sister, to see you married to someone who would love you.”
“But he doesn’t love me.”
Belle gave her a queer smile.
“Of course, he does my dear,” she said. “He wouldn’t have proposed if he didn’t wish to marry you.”
“Wanting to marry me is not the same as wantingme. He only wanted to marry me because of the castle.”
“Lismore was an incentive, yes, and I may have tried to manage it a bit heavy handedly at first, but a man like MacKinnon would never commit to a lifetime of misery for a house. Not even if he was desperate to own it.”
Hope was silent for a while, unable to believe it. The wound was too fresh and too raw for her to be practical in this moment. More than that, she didn’twantto be practical and forgiving. She was done being hurt by men.
“No,” Hope said, turning to leave. “I cannot forgive him.”
“Hope, wait.”
She left the room quickly, despite her aunt’s pleas to stop and come back. She didn’t want to be tricked and manipulated by her anymore. As she made her way down the hallway, fighting tears, a footman approached, holding a silver tray topped with a letter.
“For you, miss,” he said.
Taking it, she heard Jeanne’s cheerful voice coming from the dining room. Stuffing the note in her pocket, she came into the dining room to find her sisters, Rose and Jeanne all seated around the table.
Several plates of poached eggs, steaming puddings and bacon and towers of toast lined the table. Everyone quieted as Hope entered. Trying to appear cheerful, she gave them all a brittle smile.
“Good morning,” she said, heading towards the buffet table. “I didn’t expect you this morning, Jeanne.”
Jeanne was wearing a smart yellow day gown with a lavender sash. Her hair was even fixed with some violets. She looked as pretty as the day was new.
“Good to see you, Hope.”
Hope made a plate from the side table and came around to sit next to her. Faith leaned over the morning paper as she ate her toast and while Hope fixed her cup of tea, she sensed Jeanne’s gaze on her. She lifted her head and stared at the woman.
“Yes?”
“Are you all right?” Jeanne asked in a low tone.
“Yes, of course,” Hope answered. “Why do you ask?”
“Only that when I saw Graham, he looked terrible.”
The entire room froze at her words.
“Y-you saw him?” Hope asked, staring at her plate.
