Page 31 of Only By Grace
A curious resolve began to take root in Ronan’s mind. He wanted her to see herself as he saw her: not merely as a young lady with pleasing features, but as a woman of quiet brilliance and enduring charm. He wanted her to understand the power she held, not to wield it over others, but to carry it with pride.
It was an unfamiliar desire, one that unsettled him even as it took root. For what business had he, a man bound by duty and circumstance, to concern himself with a young maiden? And yet,he could not seem to help himself. Grace had a way of drawing him in, her unassuming presence casting a subtle spell on him. If he could accomplish nothing else during this unexpected voyage, he would at least endeavour to plant a seed of self-awareness in her heart—a recognition of her own worth that no storm or scandal could ever erase.
It was nothing he had undertaken before, and yet he found himself wholly committed to it. She had become his responsibility, for better or worse. To protect her from ruin if necessary. If Grace could see herself as he did, then she would have the strength to face anything. And Ronan wanted that strength for her more than he cared to admit. ’Twas something small he could do for her even if he was bound to fail her in every other way. If only they could weather this trial with her reputation intact, she could still find herself a worthy husband. That thought pained him even though he knew it was for the best. If he was being honest with himself, it was not pain in the same way it was with Maeve.
“How many more days, do you think?” Grace asked, interrupting his dangerous ponderings.
Ronan glanced at the sails, the taut lines, and the steady motion of the ship before answering. “If the winds continue at this pace, I expect we’ll arrive by morning.” He was both relieved and dreading it at the same time.
“So soon? I confess, I shall be glad to set foot on land again.” Her face lit with relief, which ironically made him wish she’d enjoyed the journey more—that his crew hadn’t begun to strip away her innocence and show her the cruel world.
A gust of wind carried her scent to him—something floral but piquant, and unexpectedly intoxicating. Ronan found himself momentarily unmoored, the scent conjuring more thoughts he had no business entertaining. He turned his gaze back to the sea, seeking refuge in its vastness.
The impending arrival of what awaited him in Ireland weighed heavily on him. Every mile they crossed brought them closer to the confrontation he dreaded yet knew was inevitable. Flynn. Even the thought of the man’s name set his jaw on edge. And Maeve—his sister, bright and trusting—caught in a web of deception he could not yet untangle.
“Do you wish to talk about it?” Grace’s voice penetrated through his dark thoughts.
“Nay, lass. Talking will not make the problem go away. I’m anxious to have it over and done.”
She nodded her understanding and he watched as her face became distracted, then transform.
Ronan followed her gaze as she leaned forward with unabashed enthusiasm. Then he saw the cause: a pod of humpback whales, their sleek, dark bodies cutting through the waves with graceful precision. One leaped skyward, its massive form momentarily airborne before crashing back into the sea in a cascade of foam. Another followed, its tail slapping the water with a sound and splash that echoed across the ship. The pod seemed to revel in their performance, as though they were aware of their audience.
But it was not the whales that held Ronan’s attention. No, it was Grace. Her entire being seemed alight with wonder, her face glowing with an innocence and unfiltered joy that left him entirely disarmed. She turned to him suddenly, her eyes wide and sparkling.
“Have you ever seen anything so magnificent?” she exclaimed, her voice trembling with awe. “Look at them! They seem so free, so alive. I did not think anything could equal seeing the stars.”
“I have seen whales before, yes,” he admitted, his tone far softer than he intended, “but I cannot say I have ever looked at them in quite the way you do.”
Her brow furrowed slightly, though the corners of her mouth remained lifted in a smile. “And how is that, my lord?”
He hesitated, his words catching somewhere between his mind and his tongue. How could he explain that her reaction, so unguarded and genuine, had struck him more deeply than the sight of the whales themselves?
“You see them as though they are a gift,” he said at last, his voice quieter still. “As though they exist purely to delight.”
“And do they not?” she asked, her head tilting with a mix of curiosity and challenge. “Surely such a spectacle must be meant to remind us of the beauty in the world, of the joy that can still be found, even in unexpected places. That there is a whole world beneath the surface of the seeming infinity of the ocean.”
Her words hung in the air between them, simple yet profound, and Ronan found himself momentarily lost for a reply. She turned back to the whales, her fingers gripping the railing as though anchoring herself to the moment, her laughter spilling out once more as another whale breached the surface then sprayed a fountain from its spout.
Ronan watched her, his chest tightening with something he could not quite name. There was a purity to her joy, a refusal to be diminished by their circumstances, that both moved and unsettled him. He had spent so much of his life guarding himself, locking his heart away behind walls of duty and a roguish exterior. Yet here she was, this woman who had been thrust into his world without warning, peeling back those walls with nothing more than her laughter, her wonder, her presence.
The thought shook him, and he turned his gaze back to the sea, his expression momentarily grim. He could not allow himself to feel this way, not now. His path was already set, his responsibilities too great to indulge in something so…fleeting. And yet, when he glanced back at her, all his resolve seemed to falter. What would she think if she knew?
For a moment, the air between them seemed to shift, the space narrowing despite the openness of the deck. Grace looked away, back towards nature’s display, her lashes lowering as though to shield herself from whatever she might see in his eyes. Ronan felt the urge to step closer, to bridge the gap entirely, but he held himself back. What was he doing? This was neither the time nor the place for such thoughts, and yet they persisted, unwelcome and undeniable.
Grace turned to him again, her cheeks flushed, her breath quickened with excitement. “You should smile, my lord,” she said, her voice teasing but not unkind.
Ronan blinked, taken aback by her boldness, but before he could reply, she turned back to the whales, her attention entirely on their joyous display. He allowed himself the smallest smile then, a quiet indulgence he could not quite suppress. To be as pure as her. If only he didn’t feel the weight of the world on his shoulders, he could indulge in it.
And as he stood there, watching her light up at the sight of the whales leaping once more into the morning sun, he felt an unfamiliar warmth stir within him. It was a dangerous feeling, he knew—this enchantment she seemed to weave so effortlessly—but in that moment, he did not have the strength to resist it.
It was being on the ship that made life shrink to a microcosm that made you forget what else awaited you in the vast world. Like Donnagh Flynn.
Morning could not come soon enough. And yet, as he stood there beside her, the prospect of parting from Grace filled him with a strange and unfamiliar ache. It was a feeling he could not name, and he was not entirely certain he wanted to.
CHAPTER 11
Grace was afraid she had not been completely honest, she reflected as she lay in her berth for the last night, her fingers absently stroking Theo as he purred. The ship rocked gently beneath her, a soothing motion she had come to associate with comfort rather than discomfort. If she could take away the man who had tried to kill her, then she would have described the voyage as the most wonderful time of her life. Also perhaps, she amended, save the seasickness, but since that only seemed to be when the weather was exceptionally severe, she could overlook that part. That seemed a minor nuisance compared to the extraordinary moments that had filled the days in between.
