Elijah poured himself a dram and held up his glass. “What should we toast to?”
“To tryin’.” Her eyes met his. “To bein’ better than we were yesterday, even if we fail spectacularly at it.”
“To tryin’.” He touched his glass to hers, the crystal making a soft ringing sound. “And to nae failin’ too spectacularly.”
They drank. Elijah watched Iris take a long swallow, expecting her to cough or splutter at the strong liquor. Instead, she simply closed her eyes and smiled.
“That’s good. Really good.” She opened her eyes, noting his expression. “What? Did ye expect me to choke?”
“Most women I’ve ken couldnae handle whisky this strong.”
“Then ye’ve been meetin’ the wrong women.” She took another sip, savoring it. “This is wonderful. Smoky, like ye said. With a hint of sweetness underneath.”
He stared at her, this woman who kept surprising him at every turn. Who could be fierce and tender in equal measure, who could challenge him without cruelty, who could drink whisky like a seasoned Highland warrior while somehow keeping her grace.
“What?” she asked, noticing his scrutiny.
“Nothin’. I just... I like seein’ this side of ye.”
“What side?”
“The free side. The side that drinks whisky in the middle of the night and teases me about growlin’.” He leaned against the counter. “The side that doesnae care about bein’ perfectly proper all the time.”
“Ah. Well, that’s the real me, I suppose.” She swirled the whisky in her glass. “The perfectly proper lady was always for me parents’ benefit. For society’s benefit. But this,” She gestured between them. “This is who I actually am when I’m nae pretendin’.”
“I like it. The real ye, I mean.” The words came out rougher than he’d intended.
They stood there in the candlelit kitchen, the silence comfortable rather than awkward. Elijah found himself noticing small things—the way the light caught her hair, making it shine like gold. The slight flush in her cheeks from the dram. The way she looked at him without fear or judgment, just simple acceptance.
He caught her hand, pulling her closer still. “And I reserve the right to kiss ye when ye’re particularly bonnie.”
“Even in the middle of the kitchen at night?”
“Especially in the middle of the kitchen at night.”
Iris smiled up at him. “Ye ken, for someone who claims to be terrible at communication, ye’re quite good at kissin’.”
“That’s because kissin’ doesnae require words.”
“True. But it does require honesty.” Her hand came up to cup his cheek. “And ye’re bein’ honest with me right now, arenae ye? If we let it, this could become more than just physical.”
“Aye, it could’.” The admission should have terrified him, but standing here in the darkened kitchen with her in his arms, it just felt true. “But I daenae ken if it is somethin’ I can handle right now.”
“But ye will give us a chance?”
“Aye, I can promise ye this.”
“That’s all I need to hear. Now, shall we finish this bottle and stumble back to our chambers like a proper scandalous couple?”
“We’re married. It’s nae scandalous.”
“Then we’ll have to try harder.” Her eyes sparkled with mischief. “Come on, husband. Pour us another dram, and tell me stories about yer misspent youth. I want to hear all the terrible things ye did before ye became the fearsome Beast of McMurphy.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
“Now are ye goin’ to tell me more about these midnight kitchen raids ye used to do as a boy?”
She watched his mouth curve into a smile, a real one this time.
