Surrender to Me (The Derrings #4)(73)

“More like a Gallagher,” Griffin’s other grandfather chimed with a lift of his chin. “But I already suspected there was mettle to the lass. No grandson of mine would pine after a woman without a fair dose of spirit.”

“As pleased as I am that you both approve, allow me to say that I don’t give a damn.” Striding forward, he took Astrid’s hand in his.

“Nay!” Osborn protested, childlike in his pique. Shoving between Griffin and Astrid, he charged Griffin. “You’ve done this! Ruined everything! I shall not stand for it!”

Like a thread stretched overly tight, the last of Griffin’s patience snapped. He grabbed Osborn by the vest with both hands. “Do you really wish to make an enemy of me?”

Osborn’s mouth sagged open and he issued forth a slight squeak of sound.

“I’m not your daughter to be cowed and manipulated…or someone who’s going to die so easily at your hands.” He tightened his grip and lifted the man to the balls of his feet. “Care to test me? Because I’ve learned many things from growing up in…” He cocked his head to the side. “What was it? A primitive Godforsaken frontier? I’ve learned useful things. Like how to make a man suffer for every rotten thing he has ever done.”

After a long moment, Osborn spit out in a thread-thin voice, “That’s unnecessary.”

He flung Osborn from him with a growl of disgust. “I think you’ve outlived your welcome here.”

Osborn looked at MacFadden, appealing with a small, pitiable, “Cousin.”

Griffin’s grandfather lifted his large shoulders in an apathetic shrug. “What can I say, Thomas? You’ve been a trial. Best take yourself home. And don’t return unless invited.”

Flushing, Osborn tugged his rumpled jacket into some semblance of order before striding away.

Griffin reclaimed Astrid’s hand. With a quick glance at the reverend, he promised, “We’ll be back.”

Pulling her after him, he led her past wide-eyed servants and up the stairs to their chamber. Their chamber. Before she packed her belongings and thought she could leave his life as suddenly and unexpectedly as she entered it. And that, he vowed, would never happen.

Standing before Griffin, Astrid opened her mouth to speak, but he hauled her into his arms and smothered her lips with the hot brand of his kiss.

She managed a garbled squeak. “Griffin! What are you doing?”

“Punishing you,” he said against her lips, “for thinking about leaving me.” His warm palms slid along her cheeks, rasping her tender skin and trapping her for his kiss.

With a moan of pleasure, she wound her arms around his neck and stood on her tiptoes, returning the kiss. A metallic clank trembled distantly in her head, similar to the sound of her back garden gate opening and shutting the night her mother had left…fleeing Astrid for a chance at her heart’s desire.

The sound reverberated through her now, the discordant clank marking the crumbling of her defenses, her willing departure from the known and familiar, the cold and lifeless, into a world of heat and fire, an uncertain life fraught with risk.

For the first time, Astrid willingly placed her trust and heart into the hands of another. Stepped from the shadows into the light. Despite the risk. Or perhaps because of the risk—the exhilaration of living.

“Astrid,” he broke away to mutter, planting several small kisses to her lips, her chin, her cheeks. “My love.”

A rough sound rose from her throat, half sob, half laugh. Her fingers clutched his biceps. She sagged against him, convinced her weak knees couldn’t support her. “You brought the reverend for us?” she asked between kisses.

“You don’t think I would marry anyone else. It’s been you. Only you since I first saw you on that road. An angel sent to rescue me.”

Astrid pulled back to look deeply into his eyes. Her fingers came up to cover his on her cheeks. “Rescue you?” She shook her head. “You rescued me,” she whispered starkly. “In every way. You’ve given me life, Griffin. Breathed it into my very soul, my heart.”

“We’ll call it a draw, then. We rescued each other.” His thumbs shifted, tracing small circles on her cheeks. “Marry me, Astrid. Marry me today.”

She smiled.

What he was suggesting was absurd, terrifying. The unknown. Stark and real. And she had never been happier, more thrilled at the prospect.

“I love you, Astrid,” he said, his voice hoarse and deep, reverberating through her.

She closed her eyes, the words squeezing at her heart. “I can’t recall the last time I heard anyone say those words to me.” And until now, she had not known she wanted to hear them. Needed to hear them.

His hands tightened on her face, his blue eyes glittering with deep intensity. “You’re going to hear those words every day. As you deserve. So much you’ll learn to take them for granted. I promise you that.”

“I love you.” Turning her face into his hand, she kissed his palm, thinking she would never tire of those words, never take for granted words she had heard so little in her life. “I love you, Griffin.”

He pulled her hard against him, responding with a kiss. His hands slid from her face to the tiny buttons at the top of her dress. “Love me, Astrid.”

She laughed lightly against his lips, lodging a half-hearted complaint as he plied his fingers through her hair, loosening the pins.