She wanted to know how he was fairing, but she also didn’t wish to appear as though she cared. Jeanne wouldn’t let it drop, however.
“Yes.”
“How is he?” Faith asked.
“Not well at all,” Jeanne started. “Jared found him two days ago, drunk as a skunk in the bee yard.”
Hope turned to face her.
“Oh dear,” she said under her breath, but Jeanne heard her.
“Oh yes. Nearly killed himself knocking over the hives. My brothers had to lock him in the larder overnight.”
Everyone seemed to be looking at Hope, but she didn’t wish to be dragged into this conversation. Clearing her throat, she turned to Rose.
“How is your Mr. McTavish, Rose?”
“He’s well,” she said cautiously. When no one spoke, Rose continued, a blush rising to her cheeks. “Actually, he’s asked my eldest brother Ryan if he could ask for my hand in marriage.”
“Marriage?” Jeanne said, her brow lifting with surprise. “My brother doesn’t drag his feet, does he?”
“Well, in some respects,” Rose continued, her shoulders dropping. “But he said since we’ve known each other for so long, that there’s no point in a long courtship.”
The conversation turned to Rose’s relationship and the local happenings. Hope shifted in her seat and felt the small, pointed edge of a letter press into her thigh. Taking out the letter from her pocket, she recognized the handwriting immediately. It was from Jacob. Sighing, she opened it up.
My dearest Hope,
I am beside myself with grief at having not been able to express my deep devotion and love for you when last we spoke. I pray you reconsider my offer. I am staying at the Cockand Sparrow Inn and have plans to leave by month's end. I hope you find me there so that we can pursue a life together.
Your faithful servant,
Jacob Pennington
Hope stared at the note, reading it over several times. Jacob was obviously pretending to be in love with her for her inheritance. Well, she would not be fooled again into trusting a man when he claimed to love her. Still, the idea of remaining here, in Scotland, in Belle’s home after what her aunt had done… Well, it was just too much.
As the others ate, Hope weighted her options. Since she was now an heiress, if she went seeking for a husband, she would likely have her pick of gentlemen—though they would surely all be fortune hunters. If that was to be her fate, perhaps it would be better to marry Jacob, a man who did not love her and a man she did not love, but one who offered her some sort of dependability, some familiarity akin to her old life. Hope doubted she would ever marry for love now anyway, so why not Jacob? She could return to London and eventually her time in Scotland, Graham and everything in between would become nothing more than a sad dream from her past.
Her heart had broken a dozen times since confronting Graham. She wished she could cast her feelings aside and run right back into Jacob’s arms, but even entertaining the idea made her stomach twist into knots. The truth was that regardless of everything that happened between her and Graham, she would not, could not, marry a man she did not love. Not now that she knew what love truly was.
Folding the letter up, she wondered if she should have an honest conversation with Jacob. She could write him a letter, but that seemed insufficient. She had known Jacob for years andwhile he hadn’t always been the most attentive person, he was still a person and deserved the hear the truth from her in person. After all, that had cared for each other once and Hope wanted to tell him just how much she appreciated his coming north to offer his assistance.
Yes. She would go to the Cock and Sparrow Inn today.
CHAPTER TWENTY
The horse’s hooves beat against the earth, heavy and fast, as Graham wrapped the reins tightly around his fists. It had still been dark that morning when he woke, mouth dry and head splitting in his uncle’s lard. After several bangs and shouts, a sheepish footman had let him out. Groggy, ashamed, and miserable, Graham had headed to the stables with an idea to return home, but once on his horse, he hadn’t found his way there. The path he took had winded and turned and he’d followed it without caring. Hell, it could have taken him to the edge of the Inner Hebrides and he wouldn’t have been concerned.
He had lost Hope.
She had asked him to go and though it had tortured him to heed her, he had. He would not bully or berate her into staying with him. Graham had already done enough damage and though he needed her desperately, like the pines needed rain, he couldn’t bring himself to cause her anymore pain.
He rode hard across the harsh landscape, as if he were trying to outrun his mistakes. The thundering of the horse’s gait across rock and dirt was nearly loud enough to block out his own thoughts. A hard rain had begun, stinging against his skin as he rode faster, desperate to distract himself from his own thoughts. But no matter how far or how long he went, Hope was with him. She had become a part of him. He could go to the end of the earth, and still, she would be there, deep in his heart.
It was nearly noon when his senses seemed to return, and having a care not to ride the horse to death, he decided to return to his hunting lodge.
Cutting through the forest via the northern road, he tilted his head up and watched the grayish sky disappear beneath thelong pine branches. The woods engulfed him in a dark, cold embrace.If only I could explain everything to her, he thought bleakly as his horse trotted down the dark, rain-soaked path.
He hadn’t wanted to hurt her, but he had managed to do so and it tormented him. Images of Hope danced across his mind as he rode. Her kind, accepting eyes, her dark hair that she often played with when she was deep in thought. How she would drift off sometimes, only to snap back to herself with a new perspective. She was thoughtful, smart, too beautiful for his liking. He wanted to hold her against his chest and grab fistfuls of her hair. He wanted to bury himself inside of her and breathe her in for always.
