Page 116 of Stealing Sophie
“Someone taught me about thankfulness and manners,” he said. “And I am especially grateful because now I have something worthwhile to offer my bride.”
“You always had something worthwhile. Yourself. I do not care about the property or the title. I fell in love with you, with your kindness, your courage. The moment I knew, I think, was when you fiddled a song for me at the top of Glendoon.”
“Just so? Then my struggle to capture your affection was for naught? All it needed was a little kindness and a song?” He sobered his smile. “Sophie, I cannot say it enough. I love you. You have my heart forever.”
She raised on her toes to kiss him. “I love you as well. And I like to hear it often.”
“Love you endlessly,” he whispered, pressing his brow to hers. “Come on. Now we have seen the wee fairy cup, and I am anxious to say our farewells and go home.”
“We have three homes now,” she said, and her voice broke. “Duncrieff, Glendoon, and Kinnoull.”
“Glendoon is a rented property, and I may give it up. There is that beastly great hill to climb to its gates, and all those broken walls to fix.”
“Oh no, you must not give it up,” she said, as he led her out of the long, grand room with its golden cup twinkling under glass. “My brother says he will give us the property as a wedding gift. I want to finish the gardens, and we can refurbish the castle.”
“Roderick will be pleased to know he has more work to do,” he drawled. “Very well. Where do you want to live, my lass?”
“Wherever you like. For a man who thought he had no home, you have—”
“More than enough now.” He stopped, setting his hands to her slender shoulders. “You, lass,” he said, “bring miracles in your very wake, I think. Not just one, from that little stone you wear. Many. A lifetime filled with miracles ahead, I think.”
“A lifetime,” she repeated. “And more to come.” She set her hand to her stomach. “Not so long from now.”
He lifted a brow in surprise. She had been quiet of late, eating less, sleeping more. Yet he had not thought of this so soon. “Is it so?”
She nodded, her cheeks turning rose. “I think so. We will wait and see.”
He pulled her into his arms, closed his eyes, his throat tightening. Then he led her through the door and down the wide staircase in the old castle. Through a bank of wide windows, he glimpsed the stone terrace where the others waited for them–his friends, her family. Their family.
And on the terrace was a long row of pots, each filled with blooming tulips, fresh and bright and lovely.
“Wait.” He pulled her close, kissed her until he felt her knees falter beneath her, until she gripped his arms and sighed against his lips. Kissed her as the fire within him stoked. Then he drew back. Her eyes were bright and beautiful, her cheeks flushed with love and with life.
Home. He was home now, wherever she was.
