Jaxon considered and answered.“Aye, add what ye can.”
His tone carriedweight and care alike, and Gracie felt a strange warmth bloom in her chest as she listened. She realized she enjoyed hearing him speak of duty, of people, of responsibility borne without complaint.
She watchedas Jaxon glanced up and saw her standing there. He excused himself with a nod to Connor and crossed the stable toward her.
“Gracie,”he said, voice softer now, “did ye need me?”
Gracie swallowed and replied,“Aye, may I speak with ye a moment?”
They stepped asidenear a stall where a mare snorted and stamped.
“How many people live in Glenmoor?”Gracie asked, hands clasped before her. “And have ye arranged for blankets? I hear they suffer from the cold as much as hunger.”
Jaxon lifted a brow and said,amused, “They complained of food and water, nae of chill, so that’s what I handled.”
He added more gently,“The village is small, less than a hundred souls.”
Gracie nodded,absorbing this, her thoughts already turning. “Thank ye,” she said, and before he could ask more, she turned and walked away. Jaxon watched her go, puzzled, as she disappeared between the stone walls.
Gracie meantto find April at once, but small hands seized her skirts.
“Lady Gracie,”Eden cried, eyes bright, “will ye play with us?”
Rose hovered beside her,hopeful and shy, saying, “Just for a wee bit?”
Gracie knelt and smiled sadly.“Nae today, me dears, for I am on a mission.”
Eden’s eyes widened.“A real one?”
Rose claspedher hands and asked, “Can we help?”
Gracie’s heart lifted,and she said, “Aye, I would love yer help.” She leaned close and whispered, “I need ye to gather as much yarn as ye can and bring it to the solar.”
The twins gasped,then ran off, skirts flying, shouting of yarn and heroics.
Gracie hurriedon and found April in the servants’ quarters, where women folded linen and murmured over baskets.
“April,”she said, breathless, “I need as many women as ye can find who ken how to knit and can spare the day.”
April blinked,then straightened. “For the village, is it?” she asked, already understanding.
“Aye,”Gracie replied, “for Glenmoor is cold as well as hungry, and I will nae send them bread without warmth.”
April smiledwith pride and said, “I will fetch them, me lady, every spare hand that can hold a needle.”
She clapped onceand began calling names, her voice brisk and eager. Gracie stood watching, feeling a steady resolve growwithin her, as though she had finally found a way to be what this castle needed.
An hour later,the solar filled with the soft click of needles and the low murmur of women’s voices, firelight dancing across stone walls and polished tables. Yarn lay in bright coils upon every surface, and half-formed scarves draped over chair arms like sleeping serpents. Women of every age sat shoulder to shoulder, brows furrowed in concentration, hands moving in tireless rhythm. Gracie stood at the center of it all, heart full as she watched warmth being born stitch by stitch.
Rose tugged gentlyat her sleeve and asked, “Why do they knit so much, Lady Gracie?”
Eden echoed her,eyes wide as she held up a strip of wool, saying, “Is it for a feast?”
Gracie kneltbetween them and answered softly, “Nay, me loves, it is for our people who are cold and hungry in Glenmoor.” She added, “Sometimes help isnae bread alone, but warmth for the bones.”
Rose frownedin thought and said, “Is it a duty, then?”
Eden tiltedher head and asked, “Faither is always speakin’ of duty.”
