Page 64 of Only By Grace
A teasing light entered her eyes. “You have not actually asked,” she said, her tone gently chiding. “You declared your intentions and left me to interpret the rest.”
“You are maddening,” he said, shaking his head with a smile, “but you are also right. Very well—I shall be precise.”
Taking her hand in his, he leaned closer, his blue eyes searching hers. “Grace Whitford, will you do me the honour of becoming my wife? Of letting me spend my life proving myself worthy of you?”
Her teasing air fell away, replaced by a quiet intensity. She studied him for a long moment, her gaze flickering over his face as though seeking assurance.
“Yes,” she said at last, her voice trembling but firm. “I will. But I have begun to loathe the word worthy. Just love me, Ronan, and that will be enough.”
Ronan raised her hand to his lips, pressing a reverent kiss to her knuckles, his heart full. “You have made me the happiest man alive,” he said, his voice thick with emotion.
Grace’s cheeks coloured, but she did not look away. “And you,” she replied, her voice just as soft, “have made me believe in happiness again.”
The air around them seemed to hum with quiet contentment, as though the world itself paused to bear witness to this moment of joy. Ronan’s hand, still cradling Grace’s, trembled slightly—a rare admission of the depth of his feelings. He could scarcely believe that she had said yes, that this remarkable woman, with her gentle strength and quiet wit, had agreed to bind her life to his. She was everything opposite to him—everything he needed but didn’t deserve.
Her gaze met his then, and the playful banter fell away, leaving only the quiet intensity of the moment. The gentle rustleof fallen leaves and the faint ripple of the pond seemed to fade into silence as Ronan lifted his free hand to cup her cheek. His thumb brushed lightly against her skin, and her breath hitched, her pulse rushing beneath his hand.
“Grace,” he murmured, his voice barely audible, “I’m going to kiss you now.”
“Finally,” she murmured. “Happy am I that I did not have to beg.” She leaned towards him, her lashes fluttering closed. Ronan needed no further encouragement. His lips met hers in a kiss that was at once tender and fervent, showing a love so profound it left him breathless.
Grace’s hands rested lightly against his chest, the warmth of her embrace wrapping around him like a shield against the chill of the autumn air. How poetic he’d become in love! Of its own volition the kiss deepened, until they both drew back, their breaths mingling in the stillness.
Ronan searched her face, his blue eyes alight with wonder. “I feared I might wake and find this all a dream,” he admitted softly.
Grace laughed, the sound low and melodious. “I assure you, I am quite real, though perhaps I should pinch you, to remove any lingering doubt.”
He grinned, his gaze warm. “After the wedding, if you please.”
They both laughed, the sound echoing softly over the water. Grace leaned back slightly, her gaze drifting over the landscape around them. “It is strange,” she said, her voice thoughtful, “to think of all that has brought us here. Had I not slept through the ship’s departure, had I not stayed aboard…”
“Had Flynn not been the scoundrel he was,” Ronan added, scowling at the memory for a moment. “There are many twists of fate to consider.”
“And yet,” Grace continued, her tone brightening, “those same twists led to this moment. It is difficult not to feel grateful, even for the tribulations.”
Ronan studied her, his heart swelling with appreciation. How she could find gratitude in the face of all she had endured was beyond him. “You find the light, even in the darkest of times,” he said quietly. “It is one of the many things I admire about you.”
Grace smiled, her cheeks tinged with pink from the cold. “Perhaps it is easier to find the light when one has to search for it.”
For a moment, he was silent, reflecting. “I had not realized how empty my life had become until you appeared in it,” he admitted, hearing the vulnerability in his words.
“Unexpectedly.”
He chuckled. “You can have no notion what an understatement that is, my love. And you tempted me with the Grace Whitford I had yet to see. Then you left me.”
“Only because you told me to!”
“There is that. Though you made me see that there is more to living than duty and revenge.”
Grace tilted her head, looking at him tenderly. “And you showed me that there is strength in being vulnerable, even when it requires risk. You have been my anchor, Ronan, though I suspect you might not realize it.”
He reached out, taking her hand gently in his. “If I have been your anchor, then you have been my compass, guiding me back to what truly matters.”
They sat in companionable silence, enjoying the quiet harmony they had found together.
“Twists of fate, indeed,” Ronan said at last, his tone lightening as he glanced at her with a mischievous glint in his eyes.
Grace laughed, her fingers tightening around his. “I would do it all again.”
