Chapter 24 #2
Sorcha blinked, not yet letting herself believe what she thought he was trying to say.
“Ye need not have stayed to repay any debt ye might have felt ye owed me. I ken that I saved ye when Dudley’s men attacked us in the woods, but ye got me out of Dudley’s dungeons so we were even.
And after everything ye have done to save me, to save my family, it is I who owes ye.
So if ye stayed out of some misplaced thin—”
Oliver didn’t let her finish. Crushing her to his chest, he dipped his head and kissed her, cutting off her nervous ramblings.
Before she could think about what was happening, she wrapped her hands around his neck, threading her fingers through his dark hair, and pulled him in deeper to her.
He groaned against her lips, both so grateful to be alive and to be there with each other that neither of them could think about much else for a long moment.
Sorcha savored the feeling of his arms cradling her back, his strong legs pressed against hers.
Her heart soared with life, with the knowledge that Oliver was still standing in front of her.
When he finally let her go, lips swollen and pulse racing once more, she was too dazed to continue her ramblings. In fact, she could do little more than stare up at his honey colored eyes, clutching his jacket lapels, and will her knees to continue to support the rest of her body.
Oliver was every bit as affected by her touch as she was by his. His breaths came in ragged, heavy inhales, his cheeks flush. Needing a moment to recover himself, he pressed his forehead against hers and breathed her in.
“It was always for ye,” he murmured when he could finally string his thoughts together. “I only ever stayed for ye.”
She lifted her head enough to look at him, his words not having fully sunken in just yet. With a ragged sigh, he knew he was going to have to explain himself. Sun shining on his back, water brushing against his boots, he figured now as good a time as any.
“Ye are right, ye did save me in those woods. But ye have done so much more than that. Ye reminded me that there is a life worth living. Ye have shown me that I am nae surrounded by enemies the way I thought I was. Ye saved my body, my mind, and my soul.”
Tears, surprising her, gathered in her eyes. She blinked them back as she let his words settle in over her.
“From the moment I saw ye walking into Dudley’s hall, head held high, eyes blazing, I was lost to ye.
Even as ye stole my dagger through prison bars and accused me of the worst kinds of things, my heart was already falling for ye.
It is hard to even consider that after all of the horrible things Dudley did, that he could have done anything untainted with evil, but this,” he gestured between them.
“ This is it. The only good thing that awful man ever did in his life was bring ye into mine.”
Her breath hitched in her chest, overcome by everything Oliver was saying. She was well and truly speechless for perhaps the first time in her life.
“I love ye, Sorcha. I think I have loved ye from the moment I first laid eyes on ye. From the first time we met, I kent there would be no other woman for me. Standing beside ye, fighting with ye, fighting for ye is one of the greatest honors I’ve yet to have in my entire life.”
Sorcha did nothing to stop the tears from streaming down her face. In all likelihood, she couldn’t even if she had tried. He gathered her hands in his and brought her knuckles to her lips, pressing a long, tender kiss to the backs of her fingers.
“Will ye do me the greatest honor I will ever know and become my bride?”
Words lodged in her chest, unmoving despite the pounding heartbeat thudding behind them. Sniffling, she blinked the tears out of her eyes, fighting for control of herself. It was only once she saw the near panic in Oliver’s face that she managed to open her mouth to answer him.
“I had all but sworn to hate ye from the verra first moment I heard yer voice. I left home because my father had sold me to the highest bidder; because their lives were only ever about making a bit of coin. When ye traded yer agreement for me with the Baron, I knew then that ye were exactly the same kind of man my father was.”
Oliver blinked in surprise and a kind of hurt that made her realize she wasn’t explaining herself very well. She rushed to finish her thoughts.
“I have never been so thrilled to be so completely and entirely wrong.”
He exhaled a chuckle and she sniffled, clutching his hands.
“I can tell ye truthfully, after all that we have survived together in the short time I have kent ye, I never met a better man than ye. Ye are brave and fiercely loyal. Ye defend yer home and all those ye love with a courage few could ever dream of. Ye are nothing like I thought ye were, and I am so grateful for it.”
Sucking in another deep breath, Sorcha searched for courage of her own as she allowed her feelings to rise to the surface.
“I love ye. I love everything about ye. From the way yer eyes glow like embers when ye are angry, to the firm but gentle hand ye use to govern yer people. I did nae want to admit it to myself, let alone anyone else, for the longest time. Perhaps I was frightened that loving a man would mean giving up who I am. But I ken now that there is no fighting off the way I feel for you. My love runs too deep, too strong, too wild to be ignored. Just as I ken ye would never ask me to change my ways to suit the English courts, or anyone else for that matter. In a matter of weeks, ye have flipped my world upside down so thoroughly that now I cannae imagine a world without ye in it, by my side. So, aye.”
She spoke with an air of finality, her mind made up and nothing and no one would be able to change it.
Oliver’s expressions had shifted from confusion to humor to warm tenderness at her soliloquy.
But when she had finished, when she had given her answer, his eyebrows furrowed once more, not understanding what she was saying “yes” to.
“Aye?” he parroted.
Sorcha let out a laugh, light and easy. It sprang from her with a fullness and a simplicity that she couldn’t remember the last time she had felt.
“Aye, I will marry ye, Oliver Blackwood. Of course, I will.”
Without preamble, Oliver scooped her up, lifting her high into the air. She giggled like a school girl. Part of her felt like one, blushing and gazing at Oliver. They spun around, her hands braced on his shoulders while he nestled his head into the crook of her neck.
“Lady Sorcha,” he murmured, setting her down slowly and pulling her into him.
His hands cradled her face, thumbs resting on her jaw as he studied her, eyes darting from her irises, down to her lips, and back again. She let out a slow, shaky breath filled with anticipation for all that was promised to come.
“Lady Sorcha,” he repeated, his breath hot and smelling of the whiskey he’d had earlier. “I like the sound of that very much.”
Oliver bent his head those final few inches and kissed her.
Not caring who was watching or what was happening in the world around them, Sorcha melted into him, grasping at his hair and back, unable to get close enough.
He moved gently, caressing her with his affection, but that didn’t last for very long.
As their promise of a lifetime together settled into their minds and hearts, the passion between them rose.
Sorcha matched him breath for breath, touch for touch, kiss for kiss.
Butterflies flittered through her stomach with Oliver pulling her in closer to him, his hand anchored on her hip, fingertips digging into her flesh.
Breath ragged and heavy, Sorcha fought for control of herself. It was a battle she stood no chance of winning when Oliver trailed his lips down her neck, behind her ear, and to her mouth once more.
“I love ye,” she sighed against him. “I love ye so verra much, Oliver.”
He kissed her in between every word, punctuating them rather effectively.
When he titled his head away, letting his forehead rest on hers, she could focus on nothing but him.
Her blood soared through her body, her heart pounding in her ears.
Her lips swollen and limbs heavy, leaning on him for support.
They had time now. To learn the rest of each other slowly. To finish this kiss a hundred different ways. But for now, this was enough. When he spoke, it was so quiet, so low, so gravely that she would’ve missed it entirely had his words not been pressed to her lips.
“I love you too.”