He didn't like the proposition.
When Rose came to Griffin with the marriage proposal, he instantly hated the idea. Not because of Rose herself - no, Rose was a good friend and a genuine constant in his life that he could not replace - but because he knew it was a deal of business and not a deal of pleasure. He disagreed with the idea that people were good business arrangements, and although he knew that marrying Rose would lead to a smooth and prosperous life, there was something in him that wasn't happy with such an easy victory.
Which was strange because he wanted victory more than anything.
But recently, his interests had changed. After being forced to work in the fields again, Griffin had found a spark of magic in his vineyards once more. Those vines had always been the source of his happiness, even when he was a child; back when his grandparents had nightly parties full of drinking and music until sunup.
The warmer memories of his family were starting to surface once more. He was afraid to lose them once again to the shadows that had plagued him for so long.
These days he even looked forward to sleepless nights, because despite his drained body at sunrise, his soul had a little more life to it by morning. The weight of the world beating down his door was starting to lift, the chains of other people's opinions breaking apart piece by piece.
But the question that bothered him most was... what had changed?
The moon was high, but it didn't stop him from stepping out into the summer wind. With his hands in the pockets of his denim, he wandered through the fields until he reached the spot he had been coming to for the past few months, to meet a maiden who only came alive in the moonlight.
His pulse quickened when he saw her there once again.
Catriona was twirling in the moonlight, her dress spinning around her like a fairy spell. He watched her with intense fascination. How could such a timid, scared creature become a full woman when the moon was full?
It was these moments at night that he saw glimpses of what he could only conclude was her true self.
And her true self reminded him of the things he had loved most before his family and his reputation had been smeared across the city pavement.
If he hadn't been a vintner... and if he had never been engaged to that woman...
He shook his head. He didn't want to think of any of that now.
He was far too enchanted.
"Are you enjoying yourself?" Griffin asked, stepping forward to meet her.
Catriona stopped spinning, her hair falling around her face in careless waves and her smile breaking between the locks.
"You came," Catriona said with joy, as if she had summoned him herself.
"What are you doing out here?" he asked.
"I had a lovely night! Haven't you ever had such a lovely night that you felt like dancing under the moon?"
"Yes," Griffin said flatly. "I schedule it every third Tuesday of the month."
She laughed, clear and bright as the stars behind her. She bounded forward, wrapping her arms around his neck. He threw his hands up in shock, her face so close to his that it made his heart tremble.
"Come dance with me," she urged.
The sensation of her arms around him threw his logic into a spin, the hammering of his heart taking all the words out of his throat.
"I've never seen you have any fun," she continued. "When the city locked your reputation up in the Beast of Napa, did you lock your heart up in the tower as well?"
He swallowed, watching her. Her hair was swirling around her face once more, and he felt his fingertips itch.
"There's no music," he replied without thinking.
She put her hand on his chest, his heartbeat underneath her palm. "Here. I found a rhythm."
He felt his pulse quicken by her touch, unable to hold back a shocked laugh.
"The moon really changes you, doesn't it?" he asked, amused. "You're not at all the timid girl I see in the daylight."
Her deep eyes met his, a bitter smile coming to her lips.
"I'm not allowed to be myself, you know," she said. "They won't let me."
"Who's they?"
"The Americans."
Her lighthearted demeanor suddenly shifted with the wind. Griffin's hands came to her shoulders to steady her, feeling that she was about to unravel.
"They said that real Americans don't drink," she continued. "So I stopped. I stopped drinking. I changed my accent. I did everything I could to make America my home... but I couldn't."
She leaned her forehead against his chest and he held her to it, his fingers finding their way deep into her hair to comfort her.
"They haven't been kind to anyone," he said, "American-born or foreigner alike. The Prohibition was an attempt to separate people from their own evil, and it only divided people from each other."
"The Americans think we're demonic because alcohol is part of our culture."
He nodded. "The Prohibitionists don't understand real demons. They'd lock Jesus Himself behind bars for turning water to wine."
"I thought if I stayed away from it - if I was good, and kind, and worked hard - that they wouldn't treat me like a demon. But it seems no matter what I do - guilty or innocent - I get punished."
"That's because God punishes the wicked, and the innocent punish each other."
She leaned away from his shoulder to look up at him, the moonlight bringing out the lighter strands of brown in her eyes.
"That's why I admire you, Nathaniel," she said.
He swallowed at the sound of his name.
"You're always yourself, no matter what they say about you." She smiled and admired his face. "You carry your darkness and light with you with a strong spine."
He dropped his head back to look at the sky and chuckled ironically.
"You have no idea how deep the darkness goes, Catriona," he said.
She reached up and pulled his head back down to look at her. His eyes couldn't help but take in the light of her eyes, the rounded slope of her nose, and the curves of her lips as she looked up at him.
"Maybe..." she agreed. "But since day one... you've never been a beast to me. The way you protect your home, the way you stand up for your beliefs, the way you refuse to let me be weak... You're not a beast, Nathaniel. You're my hero."
She rose off her heels and gently pressed her lips to his. His hand came to her hair to steady himself from the surprise, not intending to accept but also not rejecting it. At the feeling of her warm lips on his, he returned the kiss, but only for a moment.
Until he remembered that he was her employer.
Until he remembered that he was just offered a marriage proposal by someone else.
And - most importantly - because he now realized that her lips had traces of strong liquor on them.
He pulled back. She slowly opened her eyes to look at him. Now that the spell was broken, he could smell the alcohol on her breath. How had he missed that before?
"Catriona..." he said sternly. "Where did you go with Patrick tonight?"
She cocked her head to the side. "Patrick...? Oh, Patrick. He took me to a club of his, I think."
"Club?"
"There were lots of people there. They were so much fun to talk to and drink with..."
Griffin let out a frustrated grunt. "The bastard took you to a speakeasy?"
"Is that what it's called?"
"And you just followed him inside, no questions asked?"
As the sound of his strong tone, she unwrapped her arms around him and stumbled back.
"I had no reason not to..." she started.
"I've given you plenty of reasons," Griffin returned. "I've warned you about him multiple times. He's a wolf, Catriona. He'll devour you in a moment if you're not careful. So will many others if you don't learn to read people. Trust me, I've made the same mistakes –"
"Patrick has been one of the few people to treat me decently since I came here," Catriona said. "Besides, what kind of employer tells an employee who she can spend her time with after hours?"
"I'm not telling you to avoid him as your employer."
She searched his eyes for a moment. "Then what are you telling me as?"
He didn't answer. At his silence, her shoulders slumped as her jaw locked. She picked up her heels to walk past him, but he caught her elbow with his hand to stop her.
"I'm tired," she said flatly. "Let me go to bed."
Griffin slowly uncurled his fingers from her arm. Catriona walked away, leaving Griffin to wonder why it had been so hard for him to let her go.