But she had sent him away and he had no right to her. Not now, not ever again.
Turning the corner of the last crop of trees before reaching the house, he saw a group of people—no, a group of women—standing in the rain before his front door. His butler stood before them, seemingly arguing. He frowned. What the devil was going on?
“What’s this now?” he asked, swinging off his steed as he reached them. Belle, Rose, Faith, and Grace turned to face him, each with a different expression. Belle appeared apologetic, as did Rose, while Faith looked furious and Grace worried. Something was wrong. “What’s happened?”
“Sir, these ladies are looking for their sister,” his butler said. “I’ve explained that neither she, nor you, have been here for days, yet they still refuse to leave.”
“Why should we take your word for it?” Faith asked, glaring back at the butler before snapping her head back to face Graham. “Where is she?”
“What do you mean, where is she?” he asked, his own temper flaring at Faith’s accusation. “I’m not the one in charge of her.”
“No, thank heavens for that,” Faith said. “Or lord knows what sort of fiendish things you’d force her into.”
“Faith, that’s not fair,” Grace said, stepping forward. She moved to stand in between Faith and Graham. “Please, Mr. MacKinnon. Hope left this morning and hasn’t returned. We thought at first she might have come to see you. but…”
“But what?”
“But we found this note,” she said, her hand dipping to her side. She pulled it out and handed to Graham. “None of us believed she would really go see him. After all, he had hurt her terribly when we were in London. But at this point, I think it’s safe to assume that that’s where she’s gone—to see Mr. Pennington. And to that end, we need your help.”
The mere mention of that man’s name made Graham want to clench his teeth and snarl, but to hear that Hope had potentially gone off with him, well that deflated him. Reading the note in his hand, he noted the familiar way the man addressed her, as if he felt entitled to such intimacy. Hanging his head, he pushed through the women and entered his house.
“Mr. MacKinnon?” Grace called out from behind him.
If Hope wanted to run off with Pennington, who was Graham to stop her?
He shrugged off his soaked overcoat and tossed it a waiting butler and headed towards the library. Much to his annoyance, the sound of wet leather boots followed him.The hell with them, he thought as he reaches the library. He crossed the room in seconds and began pouring himself a drink.
With his back to them, he swallowed the first quickly and then poured himself another.
“For heavens sakes, MacKinnon, what is wrong with you?” Belle finally spoke, striking her cane on the carpeted floor. “Go get her.”
Graham turned, glaring at all four women who stood in the doorway, watching him like he had lost his mind.
“No.”
Belle actually gaped at him. Pulling her shoulders back and lifting her chin with withering scorn, she scowled at him.
“What the devil do you mean no?”
“Exactly that,” he said, taking another bracing, burning sip of the scotch. “I’ll not be bothering Miss Sharpe anymore.”
“But why? Don’t you care about Hope?” Grace asked worriedly, stepping forward. “You must go after her.”
“It’s her prerogative to go off with Mr. Pennington, who am I to interfere?”
“Her fiancé, for one,” Faith said, her tone cold.
“A fact that has bothered you from the beginning,” he countered, looking at her.
“Yes, when I thought you meant to use her,” Faith said pointedly. “But since she is not here, and the alternative is that she ran off with that coward Pennington, then I must insist that you go after her at once.”
“She doesn’t want me.”
“Oh, but that’s not true,” Rose said, stepping forward, in line with Grace. “Hope is very fond of you.”
“She was. Until she learned of our little plan,” he said sarcastically, raising his glass to a bitter-faced Belle.
“You prideful fool,” Belle snapped. “So, you’ll let her be carried off by Pennington? A man not worthy of her? A man, who once asked her to refuse to acknowledge her own sisters?”
