Oh he'd admitted it. After she agreed to marry him and she did it when he could drag her back in the back room after the old birds had left and show her how bloody much he liked it. As for the rest, that always been the entire problem. He'd liked it far too much. He wasn't dead, after all. She had no idea how much he ended up in confession those two years from what she put him though.
Cathair took her hands in one of his and braced himself against the railing behind him as he stood. He'd noticed her wrapped finger and didn't want to cause her anymore pain. <"Fine, then you can ice my bloody cheek 'afore it swells up and I can't see out that eye for a day or so,"> he countered. <"And I think everyone'd like to see the bloody ship go up in flames once we're off of it. I'd help you set the charges.">
Her confidence in him was heartening. If she ever really lost faith in him, then they were in trouble. He leaned down, lifting her chin and giving her a deep kiss. <"I love you, Mae,"> he murmured when he pulled back.