He turned to her,eyes scanning hers. “Why are ye in such a fit of sorrow, lass?” he asked, brow furrowed.
Gracie’s lips trembled.“What did ye go whisper in Mary’s ear?” she demanded, voice shaking with a mix of anger and hurt.
Jaxon blinked, confused. “What?”he said, taking a step closer.
Gracie’s cheeksflamed red as she avoided Jaxon’s eyes, though she could feel his gaze burning into her.
“Ye daenae understand,”he said.
“Doye think I am daft? I saw ye whisperin’, leanin’ so close to her. How am I to ken what ye spoke, if nae somethin’ meant for her and nae me? What, did ye plan to meet with her and go to her bed once I am asleep?”
Jaxon’s jaw tightened,and he stepped closer, the firelight from the hearth glinting off the hard planes of his face. “Gracie, ye take me words in the wrong way,” he said, voice low, almost growling. “Mary is but a servant, aye, but I asked her about me brother because I have need of information, nothin’ more.”
Her hands fistedat her sides, the tears burning hot on her cheeks. “And why dinnae ye ask that in front of me?” she demanded. “Why whisper in some shadowed corner as though I am nae here? Do ye take me for a fool, Jaxon?”
He rana hand down his face, exhaling sharply. “Because I dinnae wish to upset ye by mentionin’ me brother in front of ye, lass. Nor cause scandal for Mary,” he said, his voice firm, eyes flashing with anger. “Ye misunderstand everythin’, twistin’ me actions into things that are nae there.”
Gracie feltthe sting of shame and frustration, yet her pride would not let her yield. “Her privacy? Do ye think I would sit idle while ye plan treachery?”
Jaxon’s temper flared now,his shoulders rising, and he stepped forward, taking up the space between them. “Treachery? Gracie, I am nae treacherous! I am loyal to ye, to me clan, and to ourvows!” His voice shook with the edge of insult. “Have I nae treated ye well? Have I nae been honest? Do ye think I would betray me wife at the first shadow of suspicion? I speak of her privacy because she and Edmund are lovers.”
Gracie’s tears began again,and she turned her face to the wall, feeling the weight of embarrassment and guilt pressing down on her. “I… I daenae know, Jaxon,” she whispered, voice broken. “I… I thought…” Her words faltered as the full shame of her accusation struck her.
Jaxon rana hand through his dark hair, his chest heaving with frustration and wounded pride. “Ye think me capable of such deceit? That I would dishonor ye after we are wed?” His voice was tight, a mixture of anger and disbelief. “Ye are the one who doubts me, Gracie, when all I have done is protect and cherish ye.”
Gracie tried to speak,but the lump in her throat refused to let words form. “I… I dinnae mean…” she faltered, cheeks burning, wishing she could vanish into the hearth’s fire.
Jaxon’s eyessoftened for a fleeting second, but the indignation and hurt still held him rigid. “I cannae stand here being accused of such things,” he said, voice low and controlled, though every syllable was heavy with anger. He moved toward the door, his hand on the handle. “I’m goin’ to check on the men. I will nae be a part of this foolishness any longer.”
Gracie’s chest tightened,the weight of her folly settling over her like a stone. She could only watch as his tall framedisappeared into the hall, the door closing with a decisive click behind him. Her hands fell to her lap, trembling as the shame and self-reproach she felt wrapped around her heart. She felt smaller than she had ever felt before, and utterly alone in the empty quiet of their chamber.
She buriedher face in her hands, her shoulders shaking with silent tears.
How couldI have accused him so rashly, so thoughtlessly?
And yet,beneath the shame, a small part of her still simmered with confusion and desire, the memory of his closeness and warmth refusing to fade. Gracie sat there, heart pounding, cheeks wet, knowing she must find a way to mend the breach before pride or stubbornness could make it permanent.
She wanted to apologize,to explain, to reach across the room and pull him back to her, but words failed her entirely. The quiet of the chamber pressed in around her, heavy with her shame and longing, and Gracie could only sit, waiting, hoping Jaxon would return, though uncertain if she deserved it.
She thought of his anger,his dark eyes, his firm voice, and even that fueled the heat rising in her chest. Gracie pressed her palms to her face, taking a deep breath, determined to gather courage before he returned. For now, she was left with the sting of her words, the echo of their bickering, and the ache of her heart, heavy with longing and remorse.
Jaxon stormedthrough the tavern doors, boots clattering on the wooden floor, and made a beeline for the stables. The cool evening air hit his face as he pushed the door open, and he found two of his guards sitting on barrels, sharing a flask between them.
“Duncan, Alistair,”he barked.
Duncan jumped,nearly spilling the flask. “Aye, Laird,” he said sheepishly, “we were just takin’ a wee break, sir.”
Alistair grinned,holding the flask out toward Jaxon. “Here, Laird, a nip’ll help ye calm yer temper.”
Jaxon snatched the flask,tipped it back, and felt the heat of the whiskey spread through his chest.
He slammedthe empty flask down and muttered, “Women… why are they so hard-headed?”
The guards exchanged knowing looks.“Och, we all have the women troubles, Laird,” Duncan said with a smirk. “Seems a laird is nay different than us common men.”
Jaxon rana hand down his face and muttered, “Aye, ye do everythin’ right, do everythin’ for their honor, and still, tis naeenough for them. Sometimes I wonder if they enjoy vexin’ us more than anything else.”
Alistair laughed,shaking his head. “Better to have a fight of the tongue than a fight of steel, aye, sir?”
