Andrew clearedhis throat and pointed his knife toward her in mock severity. “I want ye to write to us every month and tell us how ye are, lass,” he said, eyes warm despite the stern tone.
Gracie smiledthrough the ache in her chest and nodded. “I will, Faither, every month without fail.”
Her father’s gaze sharpened,the humor fading from his face. “If ye ever feel in danger, or wish to leave this place, ye send us word and we will come for ye,” Andrew said. “Damn clan honors and agreements, ye are me daughter first and always.”
Gracie felttears burn behind her eyes and bowed her head in understanding. “I ken, and I thank ye for it,” she whispered.
They ate sharingmemories of home and small plans for the future. Margaret spoke of the garden at Castle McDougal, howthe roses would bloom soon, and Andrew promised to send her sketches of the river as it changed with the seasons. Gracie listened and committed every word to memory, knowing she would cling to them on lonely nights. Each bite tasted bittersweet, nourishment mixed with farewell.
When the meal ended,Margaret rose and embraced her, holding her longer than courtesy allowed.
“We must seeto the trunks. Be strong, me girl, but daenae forget to be soft,” her mother murmured against her hair.
Andrew followed,pressing a kiss to Gracie’s brow, his hands firm on her shoulders. “Ye carry our hearts with ye, wherever ye stand,” he said.
“I shall meetye in the courtyard in an hour,” Gracie said as she watched them walk out to attend to their room.
She looked out the window,with a strange feeling in her heart. If she had not married the Laird, she would be home by now. Though that gave her some comfort, the thought of never finding a husband also terrified her. She knew that she had to let her parents go and start her own journey.
Gracie stoodin the courtyard an hour later as trunks were hauled and stacked upon the McDougal carriage, the air alive with the creak of leather straps and the calls of grooms. Horsesstamped and snorted, their breath clouding in the cool morning, while servants hurried with parcels and cloaks. Banners stirred above the stone walls. The bustle only made the farewell feel more final, as though every footstep carried her parents farther from her.
Margaret clasped Gracie’s hands,tears already shining in her eyes. “I daenae ken how to walk away from ye, me heart,” her mother whispered, voice breaking as she brushed Gracie’s cheek. “Write to me, every chance ye have, and tell me every small thing, even the foolish bits, so I can still ken ye.”
Gracie nodded,choking on her own tears as she replied, “I will, Mam, I swear it, ye will nae be rid of me so easily.”
Andrew stepped close,wrapping his daughter in a firm embrace. “Ye are stronger than ye ken, lass,” he said gruffly, holding her at arm’s length to look upon her face. “Daenae let anyone make ye feel small in this place, for ye are McDougal born, and that means somethin’.”
Gracie smiledthrough her tears and answered, “I will remember, Faither, every day.”
Margaret reachedup to smooth a loose curl from Gracie’s brow, her hands lingering as though she could memorize her child’s face. “Be kind to yerself, and daenae think ye must carry the world alone,” she said softly.
Gracie leanedinto her touch and whispered, “I’ll try, though it feels like everythin’ has changed at once.”
Andrew placed a steadyinghand on both of them, murmuring, “Change is nae the enemy, only fear is.”
April approached then,her own eyes bright as she dipped into a respectful curtsey. “It has been an honor, Laird and Lady McDougal,” she said, voice thick with feeling.
Margaret embracedher warmly and replied, “Take care of her, April, as ye have always done.”
April nodded,promising, “I will, as though she were me own sister.”
Gracie turnedand saw Jaxon approaching across the stones, his stride purposeful and sure. Her heart fluttered in a way that unsettled her, for she could not banish the memory of his kiss or the heat it had stirred within her. She did not know how to greet him now, whether to stand as a shy bride or a wary stranger. The confusion left her hands trembling at her sides.
Jaxon reachedAndrew first and clasped his hand with solemn respect. “Laird McDougal,” he said, meeting the older man’s gaze, “I give ye me word that I will protect Gracie at all cost, as me wife and as the Lady of this clan.”
Andrew’s eyes hardened,though his grip remained steady. “Ye had best keep that promise, lad, for there will be hell to pay if ye fail her,” he replied.
Jaxon inclined his head.“Aye, and I would expect nay less from her faither.”
Andrew releasedhim and turned once more to his daughter, drawing her into one final embrace. “Stand tall, Gracie,” he said softly, pressing his forehead to hers. “We walk away today, but we are never far from ye.”
She nodded,tears spilling freely now, and whispered, “I love ye both more than I can say.”
Margaret kissedher cheeks and stepped back, wiping her eyes with the corner of her shawl. “We will be waitin’ for yer letters,” she said, forcing a brave smile.
Gracie watchedthem climb into the carriage, her chest aching with every movement. When the driver cracked the reins and the wheels began to turn, she raised her hand in farewell until the McDougal colors disappeared beyond the gates.
She stoodfor a heartbeat in the wide courtyard, feeling the weight of her new life settle upon her shoulders. Jaxon came to her side, not touching, yet close enough that she could feel his presence like warmth against her skin. Gracie drew a steady breath, knowing that home now lay behind her, and whatever lay ahead would be faced within these walls.
