Gracie smiled and replied,“Aye, it is a duty, but it is also a kindness.” She brushed a curl from Rose’s face and said, “Duty is best when it is done with heart.”
The twins nodded solemnly,taking the words as if they were sacred.
Eden lifteda finished scarf and said, “Where does this go?”
Gracie pointedto a wooden trunk near the hearth and answered, “There, so we may carry them all together.”
Rose took Eden’s hand,and together they began gathering each completed piece with careful reverence.
Gracie watchedthem move among the women, tiny figures bearing warmth as though it were treasure.
A maid namedMorna smiled at them and said, “Bless ye, wee ones,” as she handed them a pair of gloves.
Eden puffedwith pride and replied, “These will keep someone’s hands from freezin’.”
Rose whispered, “Like a hug,”and Gracie felt her eyes sting.
As the hours passed,the pile in the trunk grew, wool in every shade of earth and sky. The women spoke quietly, sharingstories of children, winters, and hopes for those they had never met.
One said,“Me sister lives near Glenmoor,” and another answered, “Then let this scarf reach her.”
Gracie movedamong them with thanks and gentle encouragement, her presence steady as a hearthstone.
The twins workeduntil their steps slowed and their eyes drooped.
Eden yawned mightily and declared,“I am still strong,” even as her head tipped forward.
Rose leanedagainst Gracie’s knee and murmured, “I think I could sleep standin’.”
Gracie laughed softlyand drew them close, saying, “Ye have done more than enough for this day.”
She guidedthem to a cushioned bench near the fire, wrapping a blanket about their shoulders.
Eden protested weakly,“Just one more glove,” but her words melted into a sigh.
Rose nestled against her sister,whispering, “We helped,” before sleep claimed her.
Gracie kissed each brow,whispering, “Aye, ye did,” as their breathing evened.
The women continued longinto the night, inspired by the sight of the sleeping bairns.
Gracie returnedto her place and took up yarn, hands moving though her heart felt heavy with tender awe. She understood now that leadership was not command alone, but the quiet gathering of hearts toward one purpose.
When at lastthe fire burned low and the trunk stood full, Gracie rose and looked upon the room. Scarves, hats, and gloves lay ready, each carrying a thread of care from these walls to distant hills.
She stoodbefore the women and said, “We have done well. Ye all have me deepest gratitude. Ye have woven more than wool this night,” she said, her voice trembling yet clear, “ye have given warmth to bairns who shiver, and hope to folk who fear winter’s teeth.”
She liftedone scarf and pressed it to her chest, adding, “These stitches may well keep someone from freezin’ to death, and I will carry them with pride to Glenmoor.”
She promised them,“When I return, I shall thank ye all in a better way, for this kindness will echo long.”
One by one,the women rose and curtsied, their faces glowing in the firelight.
“Ye have a big heart, me lady,”said Morna softly.
“The clan is blessed in ye,”murmured another, while a third added, “Ye will be good for us, I ken it.”
Gracie answeredeach with quiet gratitude, her eyes shining as they filed out, leaving behind only warmth and the soft scent of wool.
