Chapter 17 #2
Connor slapped him heartily on the back. “Aye, Laird, if she keeps ye on edge, then ye must be doin’ somethin’ right, eh?”
At that moment, Wallace appeared at the doorway, a tray of food balanced in his hands. “The supper we prepared for ye and yer lady, tis ready, me laird. Should we take it up now?”
Jaxon let out a long, weary sigh. “Aye… just be careful ye are nae met with a boot bein’ flung at the door when ye enter.”
Wallace looked confused, then bowed and backed away.
Jaxon turned to Connor, voice low and determined. “We get up at first light. For now, I shall go supper with me wife, if she will so much as eat with me.”
Connor laughed, a teasing glint in his eye. “And if ye have a welt on her head in the mornin’, I shall ken she threw the boot!”
Jaxon scowled, cheeks heating. Connor’s laughter only made the tension in his chest grow heavier.
Jaxon followed Wallace and Mary upstairs, his boots creaking softly on the worn wooden stairs. Mary stopped at the door and rapped lightly with her knuckles.
“Yer supper, me lady,” she announced in a sing-song voice.
The door opened, and Gracie stood there, cheeks flushed, eyes wary, yet holding herself upright with grace.
Jaxon locked eyes with her, feeling a jolt in his chest, and she stepped aside to allow them all in.
His gaze lingered on her as Wallace and Mary set the food upon the small table, the aroma of meat and herbs filling the room.
Wallace and Mary curtsied and bowed, then left, leaving the two of them alone.
Jaxon shut the door, the click of the latch echoing in the small chamber.
Gracie’s eyes met his, and she took a deep breath. “I owe ye an apology. I’ve ruined everythin’. I feel like a fool. Ye must hate me for thinkin’ such a thing about ye. And to think…it was Edmund, nae ye…”
Jaxon’s expression softened, though his eyes held steel. “Aye, it was me brother. But I daenae hate ye, lass. I could never. I’m only disappointed.”
Gracie’s lips pressed together, her hands clasped in front of her. “Disappointed…that’s worse. What can I do to make it up to ye?”
Jaxon’s gaze roamed over her, noting the way her dress clung to her, the faint rise of her chest as she breathed.
He let a slow smirk cross his lips. “Oh, the possibilities,” he said, his voice low and deliberate.
Her blush deepened, and he watched it with satisfaction.
“Ye can do two things,” he said, leaning back slightly. “First, ye can have supper with me…and talk.”
Gracie’s eyes widened, then softened. “I can do that. And the second?”
He smirked, leaning forward, fingers brushing the edge of the table. “The second,” he said, voice teasing, “I will tell ye after we eat.”
She fidgeted, glancing down at her hands before looking back up at him. Jaxon felt a rush of satisfaction at the nervous flutter in her gaze. He poured them each a mug of warm ale, and they began their meal.
The food was hearty and simple, yet comforting in a way only a proper Scottish inn could provide.
Meat pies filled with mutton and onions, roasted root vegetables, coarse bread slathered in butter, and a small dish of stewed fruit for dessert.
The scent of roasting meat mingled with the smoky warmth of the hearth.
Jaxon took a bite of the savory pie and glanced at Gracie, seeing the small, pleased smile tugging at her lips.
As they ate, their conversation meandered through their childhoods.
Gracie sighed, stirring her ale. “Someone like Mary…so pretty and thin…made me think, that's why I said what I said. When I was young, kids like her made fun of me for me weight.”
Jaxon shook his head, voice firm. “Those kids were bampots. Daenae let their foolishness stick with ye, lass.”
Gracie’s eyes grew distant, the memory pinching her cheeks. “I daenae think they were…after all, yer brother chose to run from our marriage. He must have done so because of me appearance. If nae, why would he risk the tension between our clans?”
Jaxon’s jaw tightened, possessive anger stirring in his chest. “Ye see, that brother of mine…a mule of a man. Spoiled rotten. He has nay sensible bone in his body, and he probably dinnae think about the danger he put our clan in when he ran away.”
Gracie’s hands trembled slightly as she set down her fork. “I am shocked…that someone can be so reckless. I daenae ken if I could have lived with a man like that.”
Jaxon leaned back in his chair, a dark pride curling through him at her words. His possessive satisfaction was undeniable. He had chosen wisely, and now hearing Gracie condemn Edmund only cemented his feeling that she would soon see the value of their union.
He let a small smile tug at his lips, watching her sip her ale.
“Ye see, lass,” he said gently, “ye neednae worry about men like Edmund ever again. I’ll nae let such a fool near ye, nor anyone else who would harm ye or those under our protection.”
Jaxon reached across the table, a subtle gesture that both reassured and commanded.
“Let us dine, lass. There is much to prepare for Glenmoor, and ye’ll need yer strength.”
He watched as she dug into the food and he felt satisfied that she had let go of her jealousy over Mary, though it stirred him with desire to think that she was as possessive as he was.
She’s already mine, even if she doesnae ken it yet.