She nodded,answering, “I will try, with all I have.”
Andrew’s brow furrowed then,and he said, “I must beg yer pardon, I dinnae ken the Laird had twin daughters.”
Gracie lowered her gaze.“It was a shock,” she admitted, “I dinnae expect it.”
He sighed,rubbing her hand. “Ye take on much responsibility, both Lady and maither, before ye can even settle into the marriage.”
She drew a steady breath.“Aye, it is a heavy mantle, but the girls are sweet, and I ken I can love them.”
Andrew’s voice softened.“Love will be yer greatest strength, more than any title.”
She managed a small smile.“Then I shall lean upon it.”
As he left her,Gracie watched the dancers whirl and felt the weight of her new life settle upon her shoulders. The clan’s kindness warmed her, yet the path ahead loomed vast and uncertain. She thought of Eden’s bold eyes and Rose’s shy smile. Whatever fears lay within her, she would not let them down.
Gracie wanderedthe edge of the great hall, her gaze drawn to the twins as they laughed among other children, their braids flying and their voices bright. The sight tugged at old memories, of the children that had been cruel to her throughout her childhood, calling her plump and large. She remembered how it felt to be teased and unwanted, to stand apart while others chose each other, and the ache stirred anew in her chest.
She turned awaybefore tears could fall, knowing that the hurt still lived quietly within her.
She slippedthrough a narrow side door into the cool night air, drawing in a steady breath as the sounds of music dulled behind her. The stone beneath her slippers felt solid, grounding, and the moonlight shimmered upon the river beyond the wall.
April appeared moments later,her shawl pulled tight against the chill.
“Gracie,”she said softly, “what is wrong, lass? Ye look as though yer heart is about to break.”
“It is naught but old wounds,”Gracie confessed, her voice trembling despite her effort to keep it steady. “Seein’ the girls with the others made me think of when I was their age, and how often I felt alone, and now I am meant to be a maither to them, and I fear I will fail them.”
April shook her head. “Bein’a maither means lovin’ them, nurturin’ them, and givin’ them safety, and ye have all of that in yer gentle heart,” she said.
Gracie hugged her,whispering, “Thank ye, April, I needed to hear that more than ye ken.”
They stood togetherbeneath the stars, and Gracie felt some of the tightness ease from her chest.
“I daenae wish tobe the sort of woman who rules with cold distance,” she said, “I want them to feel warm and wanted, as though they belong.”
April smiled.“Then they shall, for ye ken what it is to ache, and that knowledge will make ye tender where others might be hard.”
Gracie drew another breath,steadier now.
She returnedinside with April at her side, the hall’s glow welcoming her back into its warmth. The music rose again, and laughter brushed against her like a living thing. Gracie paused at the threshold, watching Eden dash across the floor and Rose follow more cautiously, and she felt something shift within her. Perhaps she could give them what she herself had longed for.
Eden noticedher first and waved, and Rose’s shy smile followed. Gracie lifted her hand in return, a gentle promise in the gesture. The ache did not vanish, but it softened, reshaped into resolve. She would not let her past dictate their future.
As she stepped forward,Gracie understood that fear and courage often lived side by side. She was still the girl who had been wounded, yet she was also a lady now, and a mother in all but name. The path before her was uncertain, but she would walk it with kindness. For the twins, and for herself, she would learn how to be strong.
“I shall go checkon yer maither, for I think Lady McCallum has had her ear all night,” April said.
“Very well,”Gracie replied as April left her side.
Gracie walkedthe edge of the great hall, her hands folded before her as she tried to look every inch the Lady she was meant to be, when hushed voices drifted from behind a pillar.
“Didye hear how Edmund fled the altar?” one maiden whispered, her tone sharp with glee.
Another girl laughed and said,“He likely took one look at that plump pumpkin and high-tailed it for the sea.”
The others snickeredin cruel harmony. Gracie froze, the words striking her like stones, her breath caught in her throat as shame burned across her skin.
She turned away at once,her head bowed, and walked in the opposite direction before anyone could see the tears gathering in her eyes. Her steps carried her beyond the warmth of the hall and into the winding corridors of the castle, where the music dulled and the laughter faded into echoes. The walls rose high and close, lit only by flickering torches that cast long, wavering shadows across the stone. Each turn felt like a descent into solitude, and she did not stop herself as she drifted deeper into the maze.
