Darragh watched as Talia stepped away from Laird Alan and made her way towards him.
“Have ye gone mad?” she hissed.
“I believe I have. Ye have made me mad,” he said with a wide smile, not surprised when a confused frown appeared on her smooth brow.
“Laird McGhee,” Old McCormick called. “I hope ye havenae brought us here to waste our time. Ye’d do well to explain why the betrothal is being canceled.”
Of course, one did not gather such important personalities in one room for an event they had hoped would bring union to their communities, only to tell them that the event in question was canceled.
It had been hard for him to earn their trust and respect after his father’s death. The man had not only made a mess of his family and the clan’s finances, but he had also managed to destroy their relationship with neighboring clans. It had taken years of work and socializing to restore those connections; Darragh did not intend to let all that hard work go to waste.
“Daenae worry, there is going to be a betrothal, just nae the one ye are expecting. But it will only be possible if me suit is accepted,” he said, turning to stare down at Talia’s confused face. “I am sorry for embarrassing ye,” he murmured. “Believe me, I didnae think it through.”
“That is a surprise,” she said quietly. “All Laird McGhee does is think. Ye plan every step ye take. Ye arenae inclined to impulsivity.”
“Well, in this moment, I daenae have any plans. I hadnae envisioned doing this. I am scared that I am going to bumble through everything and alienate everyone. But somehow, I feel relieved. It is a pain, being too careful. There is a certain joy that comes with following our impulses.”
“Is something wrong?” she asked, staring into his face with concern. “Ye are rambling. Ye daenae ramble.”
“I guess I do now,” he said with a nervous chuckle.
“Why are ye doing this?” she asked, her eyes darting around. “Ye are making a scene.”
“I daenae care,” he murmured.
And he did not, not even a tiny bit.
Talia stared at him in shock. He did not blame her. He had always been a stickler for rules. The person he was a few minutes ago definitely hated being the center of attention, especiallynegativeattention.
“Well,Icare,” she insisted. “I daenae intend to stop practicing. It wouldnae serve me well if me reputation is ruined.”
“Trust me, yer reputation is safe.”
“Nae for long if ye daenae let us make the betrothal official.”
“I cannae do that.”
“Why? Why are ye doing this?”
“Because I love ye!” he declared loud enough that it shocked everyone into silence. “Because I cannae bear the thought of ye being married to him, carrying his children, lost to me forever. I ken I promised to find ye a husband and let ye choose, but I want to be the only man ye look at, the only one ye marry. The only one ye love. I ken I have pushed ye away several times, and nay excuse could make up for that humiliation, but I was so scared of what I felt for ye. I was worried that I would end up repeating me faither’s mistake and hurting ye like he did me maither. I would sooner die than let that happen.”
“Ye are nothing like yer faither, Darragh,” Talia said, squeezing his hands, staring up at him with tear-filled eyes. “Ye have grown into a kind and responsible man. There is nay way on earth ye can become like him.”
“Aye, but I still fear I would become like him, since his blood flows through me veins.”
“We create the life we want, Darragh. If ye make a conscious effort every day to avoid his habits, there is nothing on earth that could make ye into him.”
“Thank ye, Talia.” He cupped her cheek, his chest swelling in gratitude. “In the spirit of commitment, I wish to spend the rest of me life convincing ye of the depth of me love.” He went down on one knee. “Talia Collins, will ye do me the honor of becoming me wife?”
The crowd gasped in awe, but he did not care. In this moment, he existed in a bubble that contained only him and Talia, and his next breath depended on her answer to his question.
In those few minutes while he waited for her reply, he died a thousand deaths imagining just how torturous it would be to go back to life before her: devoid of color and joy.
“Aye, me Laird,” she choked out with a sob. “I will marry ye.”
She had barely finished before he rose and gathered her into his arms, heaving a sigh of relief.
“Thank ye,” he whispered in her ear. “I promise ye willnae regret it.”
