“I daenae ken when the tradition of handin’ flowers to a lass when ye’ve done somethin’ wrong came to be, but I can tell ye, Saoirse will take one look at them and wish they’d hurry up and wilt,” Mary explained. “If ye want to impress her and truly apologize to her, ye’ll need to dae better than a bunch of dead things.”
Noah exhaled sharply as he looked to the flowers once more. They looked pretty to him, and he’d spent such a long time gathering them. Didn’t that count for something?
For a second or two, his temper threatened to rise, but a few deep breaths kept the beast away. “Then what would ye recommend?”
Mary seemed surprised by his ability to stay calm, but she didn’t mention it. “She should be in the music room by now. If ye want to show her that ye’re interested and ye’re repentant, ask her what ye can do to make amends. Ye could even play the harp for her, if ye felt so inclined. I’ve a feelin’ she might like that.”
Noah’s heart fluttered and jumped. A smile twisted on his lips as he grabbed Mary by the shoulders and jerked her to him in an awkward hug. “Thank ye.”
Never in all his life had Noah felt such a relief. It was as if he’d been carrying a great weight on his shoulders, and he was finally free from the pressure. Playing the harp was something he could do with ease. Perhaps, if she saw what his fingertips could do, she would forgive him in an instant.
Rushing through the Castle, he made a beeline for the music room. Halfway along the passage, he skidded to a halt. Music already drifted from the room: a haunting melody, with a sweet voice as the instrument. Edging nearer, he peeked through the sliver of a crack in the doors, and caught sight of Saoirse. She played something simple on a fiddle to accompany the soft, sad ballad that seemed to come from her very soul.
She must be an angel.His heart fluttered wildly in his chest, feeling like he had intruded upon something secret, like an ancient goddess in the woodlands.
Briefly, he thought of barging in to proclaim his presence, but Mary’s words came back to him. If he was to win Saoirse over, he’d need to be clever and kind. Carefully, he slipped through the door and closed it behind him. Saoirse had drawn the curtains, and the darkness shrouded him as he eased the bolt into place, trapping him inside with her.
Noah couldn’t help but smile at the thought of being trapped in any room with his wife. Suddenly, he stood straighter and his mouth fell open.
I dinnae… but I did… I just thought of Saoirse as my wife without recoilin’.
Turning to look at his wife, he stood perfectly still and listened to the music that filled the room and seeped into his bones. It swirled around him, lifting his spirits and cheering his soul. Leaning against the wall, he found himself forgetting why he’d walked in, in the first place.
When the music finally stopped, his heart dropped to his stomach. Noah searched the room to find a place to hide from Saoirse, but there was nowhere for him to go. He had no choice, now. He had to announce himself. Rolling his shoulders back, he stepped into the beam of light coming through the windows.
“That was beautiful,” he said quietly.
Saoirse screamed, nearly dropping the fiddle. She span around, her eyes wide. Noah could clearly see the panic on her face as she backed away from him, and sensed that Mary hadn’t quite intended for him to do something so drastic.
“What are ye doin’ here?” she asked as her eyes shifted, hunting for an escape.
Noah took a step toward her. “I need to talk to ye.”
He couldn’t help but feel as if she were some ensnared animal that could easily lash out at him if he made the wrong move. Especially as he was the one who had snared her.
“For someone who has such a temper about people disobeyin’ his requests, ye daenae heed yer own standards. I asked ye nae to bother me, so I could decide when we should meet again. As of now, I have nothin’ to say to ye.” Her voice cracked under the stress of having no place to run to.
He halted his advance, realizing it was making it worse. “Saoirse, I must apologize to ye.” He drew in a breath. “The way I treated ye yesterday—it was appallin’ of me. I’d use the excuse that ye startled me, as I’m nae used to anyone bein’ in my chamber, but I willnae make excuses. I should’ve controlled my temper. I should’ve paused, realized that yer intentions were good, and treated ye in kind.”
Saoirse stared at him. Her silence was deafening. Noah couldn’t figure out if she was trying to find a way around him, or if she was actually listening to him. Daring to steal another step closer to her, he lifted the flowers that he still held in his hand.
“They’re nae the gift ye deserve, but I stayed up all night pickin’ these for ye,” he said.
Saoirse’s gaze shifted to the bouquet. Noah’s chest tightened as he pondered over what she was thinking. He couldn’t tell if she believed a word that he was telling her, or if she was adding more bricks to the wall that she was building around her heart, to keep him out.
“Why?” she finally asked, keeping a wary distance.
“Because I was a fool.” Noah lowered his hand, realizing that she wasn’t going to take the flowers. “I thought that if I kept ye at a distance, I could protect ye… protect us both from gettin’ hurt. But all I didwashurt ye, from the moment we walked down the aisle to this very moment.”
Noah inched closer. Each step he knew was a gamble. There was no way to know if she was going to flee from him, or let him keep talking. All he knew was that he was on borrowed time and would take advantage of every second he had with her.
“Please Saoirse, I’m beggin’ ye—forgive me for bein’ a fool. Forgive me for thinkin’ that marriage was just a soulless transaction, and that I could make ye accept anythin’ less than ye deserve.” His breathing was shallow. “The truth of the matter is, ye stunned me from the first moment I laid eyes on ye. I wasnae expectin’ to fall for ye, but ye’ve gotten under my skin and I cannae deny the affection that’s bloomin’ for ye anymore. I guess the flowers were supposed to show that bloomin’, but I forgot that they’re dead once ye pick them. Still, I hope that willnae be us.”
Dropping to his knees, he reached for her. Saoirse’s eyebrow arched as she stared at his hand, refusing to take it. He knew she was looking for an explanation before she would touch him; a reason for his actions.
“When ye were in the carriage, on yer way here,” he began afresh, stumbling over his words as his eyes darted everywhere but to her. His face flushed with embarrassment as the confession lingered on the tip of his tongue. “Ye were so drunk, dae ye remember?”
“Must I endure the memory of that humiliation again?” Saoirse mumbled. “Is that why ye’ve been so callous, because I drank too much on one occasion? It’s nae a habit, if that’s yer concern.”