Seacliff

Chapter eighteen: Present happiness

1919

"Are you all right?"

Startled as if she'd been caught stealing sweeties, Saoirse snapped the notebook shut in the same instant her head snapped up. Sorley strolled into the study and sat opposite her at the visitor's end of the desk.

"Yes." She smiled. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"Usually..." He stretched his arm across the desk to reach for her hand. "When you leave bed early, you are not."

The electric lamp flickered, making her ring glint in the light. A frown creased into her smile.

"How do you know?"

"I just... do." His fingers moved to entwine with hers. "I did not... hurt you, did I?"

"No!" Saoirse snickered. "No, far from it."

"But you were crying."

That made her laugh out loud. "Yes, happy tears, for once!"

Standing up, she rounded the desk without letting go of him. He straightened up in his chair, inviting her to sit on his lap. She bit her lip as she perched herself on his bare thighs and rested one arm around his shoulders. He encircled her waist. Her robe now hung loose and he dipped his head to plant a kiss on her exposed collarbone.

"What were you saying, earlier?" she asked him as his ear came level with her mouth.

"Hmm?"

"Earlier, in bed, you were... mumbling something. It... sounded like Gaelic, almost."

He frowned. "I don't know. I don't remember."

"But you remembered me." She pecked his forehead. "My picture. How?"

She brushed the hair from his eyes. He grabbed that hand and kissed it.

"My Saoirse... I do not know. But if you weren't there before... if this life that I cannot remember is without you... then why should I remember it?"

Her heart skipped a beat.

"Why should I remember a life without my Saoirse when you are right here with me now?"

Tears sprung to her eyes.

"Oh, no..." His fingers hurried to wipe at her cheeks. "No, don't cry, my Saoirse."

She nestled at his chest and let him engulf her in a comforting embrace.

In that moment, for the first time in her life, Saoirse knew envy. She envied Sorley, oblivious to his past suffering, aware only of his present happiness. She wished she could forget everything that had come before Sorley, too. Erase the war and the loss, all that death and the grief. Keep the love growing in her heart, the warmth seeping into her soul.

Raising her head, she cupped his face and caressed his cheeks, kissed him on the lips, his soft, plump lips, his delicious lips, while his hands, oh, his mischievous hands... they roamed under her robe, sought her skin, dug into her flesh, dived between her legs, and she clamped down on his wrist.

He grunted into her mouth, then hooked his arm under her knees and stood up, carrying her back to bed. She wouldn't be leaving it so soon this time.

*

It was again Queenie's hunger that tore Saoirse awake. With the windows unshuttered, her barking resounded louder and morning light flooded the bedroom. Saoirse yawned as consciousness began to spread through her limbs.

Briefly, she thought it too bright to still be morning. Then she felt the weight of the arm on her waist and didn't care what time it was. She spun to face Sorley, who smiled in his sleep, pulling her closer still.