Chapter 24
Gracie watched as Jaxon strode out of the hall, his face still tight with anger, and Edmund was dragged away by Connor and two of the guards.
She felt a tug in her chest, a strong desire to follow him and ease his temper, to remind him she was at his side.
Before she could take a step, however, she was interrupted by the soft, hesitant voices of the twins.
Gracie thought perhaps all the shouting and commotion had woken them.
“Gracie… why is Faither mad at Uncle Edmund?” Rose asked, peering up at her with wide, fearful eyes.
Gracie knelt to meet them, brushing a loose curl from Eden’s forehead. “Lassies, what are ye doin' out of bed?” she said gently, “Yer faither is angry at Edmund because he has caused trouble that could have hurt many folk, and yer faither must protect the clan.”
The twins exchanged nervous glances, their small hands gripping her skirts.
“Will… will he be angry with us too?” Eden asked, her voice trembling.
Gracie shook her head firmly, trying to soothe the worry etched on their faces. “Never,” she said softly, squeezing their hands. “Ye did nothin’ wrong. Ye are his little girls, and he loves ye more than anythin’ in this world.”
Rose’s brow furrowed, and she clutched her doll tightly. “But why did Uncle Edmund leave the castle?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
Gracie took a steadying breath, knowing she had to choose her words carefully.
“Sometimes folk make foolish choices, runnin’ from their responsibilities, thinkin’ only of themselves,” she explained.
“But that does nae mean we should blame ourselves or be afraid. We must trust that yer faither kens best.”
Edna looked up at her, big, teary eyes. “Will he… punish Uncle Edmund?” she asked cautiously.
Gracie shook her head. “I daenae ken. But yer faither knows how to be fair, and he will nae harm the innocent, not ye, nae Eden, nor any of the villagers.”
Rose leaned into her, still frowning. “I daenae want him to be angry at us,” she murmured.
Gracie wrapped her arms around both girls, pulling them close. “Ye need nae worry, wee ones.”
Eden relaxed slightly, letting go of her doll, and Gracie felt a rush of warmth in her chest.
“Can we… play now?” she asked.
Gracie smiled, feeling a surge of protectiveness and warmth. She knew that playing would distract them so they could eventually return to bed. “Aye, and now we can think of other things, like our games and our stories,” she said brightly, trying to shift their minds to lighter thoughts.
The girls brightened a little, and Gracie led them back to the nursery.
“Tell me, who wants to play the princesses and knights?” she asked, her voice cheerful. The twins clapped their hands, forgetting their fears for the moment. Gracie felt her heart ease, grateful to see their laughter returning.
The twins tugged at her hands, pulling her fully down the corridor. Gracie laughed, letting herself be swept into their world of make-believe, and silently promised she would find Jaxon soon, to remind him that family always comes first.
Two days later, Gracie sank into her chair, wrapping her shawl tighter around her shoulders as a knock came to the door. She thought it was Jaxon, though she was confused as to why he would knock.
She opened the door to April.
April lingered in the doorway. “I came to check on ye. It's been a while since we had one of our talks.”
“Aye, I’m nae doin’ well, April,” she said softly, eyes downcast. “Jaxon… he ignores me, and I cannae help but feel like I daenae matter to him.”
April stepped in and closed the door, concern etched on her face.
“Och, lass, it is the business with Edmund still weighin’ heavy on him.
Give it time, Gracie, he’ll come to himself soon enough.
” She placed a gentle hand on Gracie’s arm.
“Ye ken his heart, and he cares for ye, though he struggles to show it.”
Gracie let out a long sigh, leaning back and staring out the window at the moonlit courtyard.
“April… do ye ever miss home? McDougal castle?” she asked quietly, curiosity and concern in her tone. April’s eyes softened, a wistful smile touching her lips.
“Aye, I do,” April admitted. “But I am findin’ me place here at McMillan castle. ’Tis a fine home, and I am glad for a fresh start, to see new lands, meet new folk…” Her voice trailed off as a mischievous blush colored her cheeks.
Gracie arched a brow, amusement lighting her face. “Any particular folk, lass?” she asked, teasing gently.
April’s blush deepened, and she looked away for a moment before murmuring, “Well… there is a certain servant I fancy. He’s kind and steady, and he takes me on long walks around the gardens when he can.”
Gracie laughed softly and reached out, pulling April into a warm hug. “Och, April! I want nothin’ but the best for ye. A fine lad, and ye deserve happiness, as all do.”
April giggled into her shoulder, clearly delighted by Gracie’s enthusiasm.
“Ye must promise me, lass,” Gracie said, holding her at arm’s length to peer into her eyes. “Ye’ll nae let shyness or fear keep ye from tellin’ him how ye feel. Life is too short for regret, and love… well, it’s too rare to pass by quietly.”
April nodded, still flushed but determined. “Aye, Gracie, I will. Ye always give the best counsel. A fine Lady ye are turnin’ into.”
She paused, then laughed softly. “’Tis strange to think of me as a lady at all, but here I am, learnin’ to stand tall among fine folk.”
Gracie smiled, her own heart lightened by her maid’s enthusiasm. “Now tell me, when ye take him on one of these walks, what’s it like? Does he make ye laugh?”
April’s eyes sparkled, and she leaned closer, lowering her voice in a conspiratorial whisper. “Aye… he does. He has a clever wit, and he listens when I talk. ’Tis rare to find a man who cares for words as much as deeds, Gracie.”
Gracie clapped her hands softly, excitement bubbling in her chest. “Och, lass, I can see why ye’re taken with him. Promise me ye’ll nae hide yer heart. And when he makes ye laugh, let him ken he’s caught ye proper.”
April laughed again, nodding firmly. “I promise, Gracie. And thank ye… ’tis comfortin’ to speak with ye. Ye always make the burdens feel lighter, and the joys brighter.”
Gracie squeezed her shoulder, smiling fondly. “That’s what friends are for, April. But mind, tell me every wee detail of this courtship of yours.”
“Aye, me lady. I shall… and I’ll keep ye informed on every smile and blush he gives me!”
Gracie chuckled softly, watching her maid with a spring in her step.
Later that evening, Gracie stepped quietly down the corridor, the soft glow of the candle in her hand casting long shadows on the stone walls. Her feet carried her to the nursery. Gently, she set the candle down and moved to tuck the blankets snugly around Rose and Eden.
“Faither… has he nae come to see us?” Rose mumbled, her small voice trembling with disappointment.
Eden nodded, clutching her doll closer to her chest.
Gracie’s heart ached, and she knelt beside the bed, brushing a strand of hair from their faces. “Och, me sweet bairns, he’s been very busy with his duties, but he will come to sit with ye soon,” she said softly, forcing a smile she didn't feel.
The twins pressed close to her, and Gracie held them both for a moment, feeling their warmth and innocence. “For now, let me stay with ye a wee while, aye?” she whispered, smoothing Eden’s hair and kissing Rose on the forehead.
She hummed a lullaby as their eyes slowly drifted closed, listening to the steady rise and fall of their breathing. Once they were finally asleep, she rose and straightened the blankets, her fingers lingering on their soft covers a moment longer.
Gracie left the nursery quietly, the corridor now silent but for the faint echo of her footsteps.
She returned to her chamber with a quiet hope that Jaxon would be there, that perhaps he had finally thought to return and share a meal with her.
But the room was empty, the bed untouched, and the air felt colder without his presence.
They had not shared a meal in days, and she felt the absence like a weight pressing upon her chest.
Sitting at the edge of the bed, Gracie wrapped her shawl around her shoulders and let out a long, soft sigh. She wondered why he avoided her, why the intimacy and connection they had shared seemed so far away now. Doubt and sorrow crept into her heart as she stared at the empty space beside her.
Perhaps he does nae want me anymore, she thought, a pang of despair twisting in her chest.
Her eyes filled with tears, and she pressed her palms to her face, trying to hold back the sobs threatening to escape.
Every heartbeat echoed the same ache, the hollow feeling of being neglected by the man she had given her heart to.
Gracie wondered if he even thought of her, if he missed her at all during these long hours apart.
She rose slowly and moved to the window, looking out at the moonlit courtyard below. The wind whispered through the trees, carrying the faint sounds of the castle settling into the night.
She wrapped her arms around herself and whispered into the darkness.
“Jaxon… will ye ever come back to me, or am I alone?”
The silence gave no answer, and her tears fell quietly into the shadows of the empty room.
The following night, the castle lay wrapped in a hush so deep it pressed upon Gracie’s ears. She had not seen Jaxon since Edmund’s return, and the absence gnawed at her more fiercely with each passing hour. She lay in their bed staring.
Where is he and why has he vanished so completely?
Sleep refused her, though her body ached for it. She had grown accustomed to the solid warmth of Jaxon beside her, the quiet reassurance of his breathing in the dark.
“Neglectful fool,” she turned from one side to the other and muttered under her breath. “Yer brother is found, and still ye cannae come to yer wife.”
At last she flung the covers aside and rose, pacing the chamber like a caged thing. The stone floor was cold beneath her feet, grounding her anger into something sharp and focused. She poured herself a small measure of whisky, the burn steadying her nerves as much as it stoked her temper.
“To hell with waitin’,” she murmured, setting the cup down with a clink.
Her anger flared hot and sudden, and she reached for her shawl with shaking hands.
She wrapped it tightly about her shoulders, aware she wore only her chemise, but caring little at that moment.
If Jaxon could wander the castle at all hours, so could she.
With her chin lifted, she pushed on her slippers and pulled open the door and stepped into the corridor.
The castle was eerily quiet, the hour well past midnight. Torches guttered low in their sconces, casting long, wavering shadows that crept along the walls like living things. Her footsteps sounded too loud to her own ears, each soft pad echoing down the stone passage.
She moved slowly, every sense alert, the shawl clutched tight as if it were armor. Somewhere far off, wood creaked and settled, and she paused, heart pounding, listening.
“Jaxon?” she whispered once, though she did not know why she bothered. Only silence answered her, deep and unsettling.
As she passed the great hall, moonlight spilled through the high windows, painting pale silver across the floor.
The shadows of the banners stirred faintly, though there was no breeze she could feel.
Gracie swallowed hard, her resolve wavering only for a moment.
She straightened her shoulders again, anger stiffening her spine.
If Jaxon thought he could shut her out, hide behind duty and stone walls, he was sorely mistaken. She would find him, whether he wished it or not. With that fierce thought burning in her chest, Gracie moved deeper into the sleeping castle, her heart racing with equal parts fear and determination.
Gracie reached Jaxon’s study first, her heart thudding as she pushed the door open and found the room empty.
The candles had burned low, wax pooled and cold, and the map table lay abandoned.
A chill crept through her that had nothing to do with the night air.
She turned away, her shawl drawn tighter, and headed down the corridor toward the library.
The library door stood ajar, a thin blade of candlelight slicing into the dark hall. She hesitated only a breath before stepping inside, her chemise clingy to her. Shelves loomed high around her, heavy with books and ledgers, their spines catching the glow. Then she saw movement near the far table.
“Jaxon?” she whispered.
But the figure that stood in the shadow with his back to her was not Jaxon.