Chapter 25
Gracie watched the figure in the shadows. He methodically lifted silver candle holders and slipped them into a leather bag. He added a small box, its lid inlaid with brass. She caught sight of his face.
Gracie gasped, as she stumbled backward into a chair. The sound sharp and unmistakable. Edmund turned at once, surprise melting into a slow, knowing leer.
“Well now,” he drawled, his eyes sweeping over her chemise and shawl, lingering far too long. “The castle keeps strange hours tonight.”
Gracie stiffened, anger and fear tangling in her chest as she squared her shoulders. “What are ye doin’ in the library?” she demanded. “Ye are confined to yer room, and ye ken it well.”
Edmund’s smile widened, smug and careless. “Aye, that was the plan,” he said lightly, hefting the bag. “But I ken that our guards drink like fishes, and one fell asleep with his head on the table outside me door.”
He stepped closer, his gaze never leaving her face. “It was easy enough to walk past those guards.”
Gracie felt her pulse quicken as Edmund closed the distance between them. She took an instinctive step back, the edge of a table brushing her hip.
“Stay where ye are,” she warned, her voice tight. Edmund chuckled low in his throat, clearly amused.
“Ye look frightened,” he said, tilting his head as if studying prey. “Did ye truly think marryin’ me brother gave ye standin’ here?” His eyes gleamed with malice as he moved another step closer. “Ye’re mistaken, lass, sorely mistaken.”
Gracie swallowed and backed away again, her fingers curling into the wool of her shawl.
“Jaxon would care,” she said, though the words wavered despite her effort. “He would care very much if ye so much as touched me.”
Edmund laughed outright, the sound echoing unpleasantly among the shelves.
“Care?” he scoffed. “Me brother has always been too busy playin’ the dutiful Laird to notice what lies beneath his nose.” Edmund leaned in, his voice dropping to a cruel whisper. “He wouldnae even blink if I took what I wanted.”
Her breath caught, fury flaring brighter than fear. “Ye are a liar and a coward,” she spat, retreating step by step. “Get away from me, Edmund, or I swear ye’ll regret it.”
Edmund’s smile thinned, his eyes hardening as he followed her slow retreat.
“Still barkin’ like ye’ve teeth,” he murmured. “I wonder if ye’d be so bold without his name to hide behind. Ye ken me brother wouldnae care if I took ye to me own bed. We always share.” He reached out as if to brush her shawl.
Gracie recoiled sharply. Her back struck something solid, unmoving, and warm.
She gasped again, this time in startled confusion, and Edmund’s expression shifted. His gaze flicked past her shoulder, the color draining from his face. The air seemed to thicken, heavy with unspoken menace.
A familiar presence loomed behind her, close enough that she could feel steady breath at her back. Gracie did not turn, though her heart leapt painfully in her chest. Edmund took an involuntary step away, his earlier confidence evaporating.
“Jaxon,” she whispered.
Gracie stood frozen where she was, Jaxon’s presence a solid wall at her back, his anger rolling off him like heat from a forge. She felt it in the way his sharp breath drew before speaking.
Edmund’s sneer faltered as he took in his brother’s expression. The library, once quiet, now felt charged and dangerous.
Jaxon stepped past Gracie, placing himself fully between her and Edmund.
“Ye have crossed the last line,” he said coldly, his voice low and controlled. “I warned ye before, Edmund, more than once.”
Edmund scoffed weakly, though his face had gone pale.
“Ye’re overreactin’ again,” Edmund snapped, forcing a laugh. “She startled me, that’s all, and now ye come in like some righteous hero.”
Jaxon turned on him, eyes blazing. “Daenae lie to me,” he growled, “nae after all ye’ve done.”
Gracie watched Edmund’s bravado crumble inch by inch. Jaxon’s jaw tightened as he spoke again, each word deliberate. “Ye are banished,” he said. “From this castle, from this clan, and from every inch of McMillan land.”
The words seemed to strike Edmund harder than a blow. “Banished?” he repeated hoarsely. “Ye cannae mean that, Jaxon, I’m yer brother.”
Jaxon did not flinch.
“I mean it fully,” Jaxon replied. “Ye will take what ye can carry and go far from here, farther than ye’ve ever wandered before.”
Edmund shook his head, panic creeping into his eyes. “Ye cannae do this to me.”
Jaxon’s voice hardened. “If I ever hear that ye are anywhere near these lands again, I will imprison ye for life,” he said. “There will be nay more chances.”
Gracie felt a strange mix of relief and sorrow tighten her chest.
Edmund’s temper flared at last, masking fear with rage. “Ye think yerself so mighty now,” he shouted. “Ye steal me bride, me inheritance, and now ye cast me out like a dog.”
Jaxon took a step closer, unafraid.
“I dinnae steal anythin’,” Jaxon said. “Ye threw it all away with yer selfishness and recklessness.”
Edmund opened his mouth to argue, but Jaxon cut him off.
“Ye endangered this clan,” Jaxon continued, his voice rising. “Ye lied to our people, left them to suffer, and then slunk back only when ye had nowhere else to go and need funds.”
Edmund’s shoulders sagged as the truth landed.
Gracie watched Jaxon with awe and a flicker of fear, seeing the full force of the Laird he was.
Edmund’s defiance finally broke, replaced by desperation. “Please,” he said quietly, “ye cannae do this.”
Jaxon turned away from him and strode to the window. He flung it open and shouted into the night, “GUARDS!”
His voice echoed across the courtyard, sharp and commanding.
Moments later, heavy boots thundered down the corridor, and four guards burst into the library. They halted at once, eyes flicking between the brothers. Jaxon pointed to Edmund without hesitation.
“See him to the borders of McMillan land,” Jaxon ordered. “Make certain he does nae return, now or ever.”
The guards nodded grimly, moving to Edmund’s side.
Edmund struggled then, pride making one last stand. “Ye cannae hold me like this,” he protested, wrenching his arm. “I am a McMillan by blood.” Jaxon turned back, eyes cold.
“Nae anymore,” Jaxon said. “From this moment forth, ye are nay kin of mine.” The finality in his voice left no room for argument.
Jaxon gestured to the leather bag Edmund had been filling. “He is allowed to take only what he can carry in a pack,” he said. “Nothin’ more.”
Edmund’s face twisted with bitterness.
Jaxon reached down and picked up a silver candle holder from the table. He thrust it into Edmund’s hands.
“There,” he said harshly. “That should fetch ye enough coin to get far away, along with the others ye’ve already taken.”
Edmund stared at the silver, humiliation burning in his eyes. “So this is it,” he muttered. “Cast out with stolen trinkets like a common thief.”
Jaxon did not soften.
“Ye made yerself into one,” Jaxon replied. “Now go.”
The guards tightened their grip and began to steer Edmund toward the door.
Edmund shot one last venomous glance at Gracie. “Enjoy his favor while it lasts,” he sneered. “If he turns on his own blood he will turn on ye in time.”
Jaxon moved instantly, stepping forward with a warning growl.
“Say another word to her,” Jaxon said, “and ye’ll leave this castle without even the shirt on yer back and a broken wing.”
Edmund fell silent.
The guards dragged Edmund from the room, his protests fading down the corridor. The door closed heavily behind them, leaving an echoing quiet. Gracie let out a shaky breath she had been holding.
Jaxon stood still for a long moment, fists clenched, staring at the closed door. Then he turned to Gracie, his anger easing into concern.
“Are ye harmed?” he asked through gritted teeth.
She shook her head, tears pricking her eyes. “Nay,” she said. “Because ye were there.”
“What were ye doin’ here alone with him?” Jaxon demanded, his voice low and tight. “In the dead of night, half-clad, meetin’ me brother in the library?”
Gracie’s mouth fell open. She shook her head at once.
“I dinnae meet him,” she said quickly. “I came lookin’ for ye, Jaxon, I swear it.” Her voice trembled with disbelief that he could even think such a thing.
Jaxon scoffed under his breath, pacing once across the room. “That’s nae how it looked,” he said sharply. “Ye whisperin’ in the dark like some secret rendezvous.”
Gracie felt her chest tighten painfully.
“Rendezvous?” she repeated, wounded. “Have ye lost yer senses entirely?” She stepped toward him, hands open. “I was frightened,” she said, her voice breaking. “He cornered me, he threatened me, and ye think I invited him?” Tears burned her eyes, born more of hurt than fear now.
Jaxon stopped moving, but his expression did not soften. “Ye shouldnae have been there,” he said flatly. His words cut deeper than any shout.
Without another word, he turned away.
He walked to the door, his steps measured and controlled, far more frightening than shouting.
“Ye will follow me back to the bedchamber now.” he said coldly.