Connor,sensing the tension, leaned closer, lowering his voice. “She seems happy enough, Laird, but ye are restless. Is it the ale, the music… or somethin’ else that vexes ye?”
Jaxon’s jawtightened as he looked down at his man-at-arms, a faint shadow of a smile playing on his lips. “It is nae the ale, Connor. It is the weight of what I must guard against. Me lass is new to this world, to our home, and I will nae allow a fool or worse to cause her harm. Nae while I breathe.”
Connor nodded gravely.“Aye, I ken. Ye have the heart of a lion, Jaxon, but ye must allow some of the hall to exist in peace. They will nae think to harm her with ye watchin’.”
“Aye,ye are right… but I will nae lower me guard. She is mine, and I will protect her. Always. See to it that she remains in this hall until I meself escort her back to our chambers. Can I trust ye to keep an eye on her?”
“Aye,it would be me honor, me laird,” Connor bowed.
The two menstood in silence for a moment as Jaxon watched Connor lock his eyes on Gracie like a falcon.
The soundsof the ceilidh filled the space around them, yet inside Jaxon’s chest, every beat was sharp, every muscle taut with anticipation and vigilance. He thought of tomorrow, of Hamishgone from the village, and of the scouting mission for Edmund, knowing both tasks were necessary to safeguard the life of his wife and the stability of his clan. Connor’s presence was steady, a reminder that Jaxon didn't stand alone, yet the responsibility, the burden of his family and his vow, rested squarely on his broad shoulders.
“Connor,”he said finally, voice low but unwavering, “keep yer eyes open. Any movement, any whisper, any ill-intent… ye report to me immediately. I trust ye, aye, there are many clans here tonight and one can never be too careful.”
Connor inclined his head,resolute. “Aye, me laird. It will be done.”
Jaxon’s gazeswept the hall one last time, finally settling on his wife, radiant in her gown, laughing lightly with her mother. He exhaled softly, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly, though the fire in his chest remained.
Tomorrow all threatsshall be removed. She is mine, and nay man will touch her. Nay one. And Edmund… I will find ye, and ye will answer for the mess ye left behind.
Late into the night,Jaxon’s hand closed gently around Gracie’s as the final strains of music faded into the night.
“It’stime we retired to our chambers, lass,” he said, holding her hand aloft as the crowd cheered their union.
He felther tense beside him, her small body stiff with apprehension, and he bit back a quiet frown at her disgust to go to bed with him. The noise of the great hall, the laughter, and the clinking of ale mugs faded into the background as he guided her toward their rooms.
The corridor stretched before them,torchlight flickering against the stone walls. Jaxon walked with careful precision, keeping her close, his hand steady on hers as though to remind her that she was under his protection. Each step was measured, deliberate, as he thought of how easily she could be lost in this vast castle. He caught her gaze once, and saw fear, uncertainty, and something else, hesitation to trust him.
Gracie’s voicebroke the silence, soft but firm. “Why are ye leadin’ me here, Jaxon?” she asked, a hint of challenge in her tone.
“This is our rooms, after all,”he replied, his voice calm but edged with authority.
She looked up at him,perplexed. “But ye dinnae stay here last night.”
“That was for last night,”he said, his blue eyes locking onto hers. “But ye gave me a reason to stay here with ye this night. I cannae trust ye to nae wander off in the night.”
“I already told ye,I got lost!” she huffed, crossing her arms in irritation.
“It doesnae matter,”he said, letting a thin line of frustration slip through his calm exterior. “Besides, it is customary that this is our official weddin’ night, and the clan will want to see that we are creatin’ heirs and doing our duty to consummate the marriage.”
“Oh… I see,”she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper, and Jaxon’s jaw clenched imperceptibly.
He stayed silent for a moment,watching her retreat slightly into herself. His chest tightened with a quiet anger, suppressed but undeniable. She had no interest in him, not truly. Her thoughts, he knew, were with Edmund, the fool who had fled the kirk, and now she seemed determined to keep him, her proper husband, at bay.
They enteredthe rooms and closed the door behind them. He led her into the bedroom. Jaxon peeled off his tunic, the sound of it falling to the stone floor filling the small room.
He hearda soft gasp from Gracie, almost involuntary, and he interpreted it as terror.
“Relax,lass, I daenae plan to make ye do yer wife duties this night. I shall sleep on the floor in front of the hearth, since ye cannae bear the thought of yer husband next to ye in bed.”
Gracie’s lipsparted in protest, but he ignored her, striding to the sitting room. He gathered blankets and cushions, moving with purpose as he arranged a makeshift bed on the floor, directly in front of the hearth’s warm glow. Sparks flickered fromthe fire, casting golden light on the stone walls, and he smoothed the blankets with a quiet precision, his eyes lingering on the shadows dancing across the room.
When he returned,Gracie’s eyes were wide, a mix of awe and confusion in her gaze.
He merely noddedtoward the floor. “Ye will be safe, lass. I will be here.”
He did not waitfor thanks, nor did he seek her approval; the action alone was enough to assert his presence, his role as protector and husband.
