Caught off guard, Cecilia’s jaw tilted. She had expected some kind of warm reunion, she expected; she realized she wasn’t surewhat she had been expecting. “Your Grace, why are you saying this?” she protested, her frustration bubbling to the surface.
He stepped closer, his intensity all-consuming. “Everything about you is infuriating,” he continued, his gaze unwavering. “The way you talk, the way you walk, even the way you laugh. It’s all so… unrefined.”
Cecilia’s heart pounded in her chest, confusion mingling with annoyance at this point. “You chased after my carriage, only to insult me?”
“You certainly never stop talking,” Alistair’s expression softened for a brief moment, as if he were wrestling with his own feelings. “You don’t understand,” his tone dripped urgency. “You’re more than just a nuisance to me. You’re were… delicious distraction I desperately tried to convince myself I could not afford.”
Cecilia felt a whirlwind of emotions surge within her. She had never seen this side of this man before, the vulnerability in his eyes, his movements, left her at a loss of words.
“Cecilia,” he breathed, his chest rising and falling rapidly as if he had just sprinted a great distance. The cold air swirled around them, biting at their cheeks, yet somehow, all Cecilia felt was an odd warmth radiating from within just from being in his presence.
“And tell me now, why do you think I was so angry?” he continued, his voice low, almost a whisper against the howling wind. “I realized I was so uneasy only because it was that youweren’t talking to me, walking with me, laughing with me.” He shook his head, a soft chuckle escaping his lips, “I wanted you all for me; from the very beginning, my soul knew you were what I needed, my Cecilia.”
His eyes, usually so guarded, now shimmered with an intensity that took her breath away. Cecilia’s heart raced, her breath hitching in her throat. “Your Grace, I—” she started, but the words caught in her throat as he took a step closer, closing the distance between them. The warmth of his body radiated toward her, pulling her in like a moth to a flame.
“I’ve never experienced so many feelings at once,” he confessed, his gaze unwavering. The urgency in his voice sent a shiver down her spine.
“Alistair…” she breathed, her heart pounding like a drum. The way he looked at her, filled with passion and longing, made her pulse quicken. She fought the overwhelming urge to throw herself into his arms, to lose herself in the warmth of his embrace.
“I’ve fallen hopelessly in love with you,” he declared, his voice trembling slightly. “I’ve been a fool about it, because I’ve never felt this way before meeting you.” His words hung in the air, heavy with meaning, and Cecilia felt a rush of elation wash over her.
“The day you bumped into me,” Just as he seemed poised to reveal more, his gaze flickered over her shoulder. She turned slightly to see Nathaniel and Tristan watching them from adistance, their expressions unreadable. She blushed, and Alistair cleared his throat, shaking his head.
“I can’t let you leave for Scotland, the thought of never seeing you again… it hurts more than anything,” he said, his voice fierce, almost desperate.
Is this truly happening?
“Cecilia,” he breathed, suddenly dropping to one knee before her. The world seemed to tilt on its axis as her heart raced. “Will you make this repressed man the happiest to ever live by marrying me?”
Cecilia gasped, her breath hitching in her throat. It felt as if the very air around them had thickened, swirling with the weight of his words. She blinked rapidly, trying to comprehend the enormity of the moment.
Alistair’s intense blue eyes held her gaze, filled with a mixture of hope and fervor. “I would rather have you, as a writer, by my side than any other perfect duchess there is out there,” he declared.
Can someone pinch me to wake me from this dream?
The man she had admired, argued with, and secretly loved was kneeling before her, baring his soul. Alistair reached out, taking her hand in his, sending a jolt through her system that ignited a fire deep within her.
“Please, say something,” he urged, his voice barely above a whisper. “Argue with me like you always do.”
Cecilia couldn’t help but laugh, a sound that felt so liberating. She shook her head, drawing in a deep breath to steady herself. “You should try not insulting me the next time you confess your feelings,” she replied, feigning a frown.
Alistair’s expression softened, the corners of his mouth lifting in a way that made her stomach flip. “I shall work on that,” he promised, his eyes sparkling with mischief. But the lightness between them was tinged with an undercurrent of tension, an urgency that electrified the air.
Cecilia bit her lip, her heart pounding as she searched his gaze for sincerity. “Do you truly agree with having a writer as your wife and duchess?” she asked, her voice trembling slightly.
Without a moment's hesitation, he replied, “I agree, as long as it’s you.”
His words wrapped around her like a warm embrace. The sincerity in his voice, the determination in his eyes—it was all she had ever been wanting for a while.
“Alistair, of course, I’ll marry you!” Cecilia exclaimed, her voice a blend of excitement and disbelief. The words tumbled from her lips, like a match fueling a spark of joy in his eyes.
He rose from his knee, a wide grin breaking across his face, and before she could catch her breath, he swung her around effortlessly, their laughter echoing in the air.
“Cecilia, you’ve made me the happiest man alive!” he declared, his voice rich with emotion. He held her close, their faces mere inches apart, as he whispered sweet nothings that made her heart race.
“I can’t wait to spend forever with you, to write our story together…” Their moment was electric, the world around them fading into a blur as they leaned in, their lips almost touching.
But just as the anticipation peaked, a loud throat clearing shattered the intimacy. Tristan and Nathaniel stood a few feet away, arms crossed and expressions mock-serious.
