Voices rose around him,arguments bouncing back and forth. “He was to arrive, wasn’t he?” one man shouted.
“Aye,and now the lass waits like a fool!” another called. “Shame on the Doyle boy, on his family!” someone added, stamping a foot in anger.
Andrew’s handsclenched at his sides, every inch the Laird, authority radiating like heat from a forge. “Where is this Edmund Doyle?” he thundered. “Bring him here, or I swear by me honor he’ll rue this day!”
The crowd parted slightly as murmursof agreement rippled through the kirk, tension thrumming in the air.
Gracie sank slightlybehind her mother, hands pressed to her gown, the wool soft against her trembling fingers. Faces turned toward her, some sympathetic, most curious or judgmental. Her stomach felt leaden, and her lips quivered as humiliation roared louder than the angry voices around her.
I was supposedto begin a new life… and he has left me here.
One of theelder men from Clan Doyle pushed through the crowd, shouting,
“He must have thoughtto run away! A cowardly act!” Another added, “Aye, a shame on the McDougals that they ever agreed to such a match!”
Whispers turned into heated bickering,accusations bouncing back and forth across the hall clan against clan. Gracie could barely breathe, wishing desperately she could vanish into the shadows behind the altar.
Her mother’shand remained firm on her shoulder, grounding her in the storm of voices.
Andrew’s gazeswept the kirk like steel, blue eyes alight with righteous anger. “Clan McMillan will nae disgrace me daughter and me house,” he said, voice low but lethal. “I will find this Edmund Doyle, and he shall answer for this insult!”
Gracie’s legs felt heavy,her knees weak beneath the weight of all those eyes and whispers.
She leaned toward her mother,voice trembling as she whispered, “Mama… I want to go back to the carriage.”
Margaret nodded immediately,reaching for her hand. “Take me hand, lass, steady yerself,” she said softly, squeezing gently as though to anchor her in the storm of humiliation.
Gracie’s fingersfound her mother’s, and she took a tentative step back, thinking relief would follow. But then something caught her attention, a gaze that made her pause mid-step. Across the kirk, a man sat watching her, shoulders broad and posture commanding. His brown hair framed a face that was strong and sharp, his blue eyes intense, and a small beard added to the impression of strength and maturity.
Her breath caught,and her heart seemed to skip in a way it had never done before. She had never seen anyone so striking, so undeniably… attractive. But it was not only his appearance that held her; it was the way he looked at her, that heat in his gaze, the subtle curl of interest and something darker, something like… desire. Her fingers tightened around Margaret’s hand without meaning to, and she could not look away.
Time slowed as she stared,frozen, every whisper and shout around her fading into a dull hum.
Her pulse quickened,cheeks warming as her mind spun. Her stomach fluttered with a strange mixture of fear and fascination. Gracie felt anchored in that gaze, unable to step back, unable to look away, and for the first time in the day, all her fear and humiliation melted into a single, consuming question.
Who is this man?
Then he stood up.
3
Jaxon’s eyes had not left her since she entered the kirk. Gracie Gallagher moved with a quiet grace, soft green wool and pearls catching the light, her hair curling around her face like a halo. She was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, and the thought that he had handed her over to his brother burned in his chest. A tight knot of jealousy had formed in his stomach when she stepped forward, plump bosom nearly spilling from her dress. The anger in him had festered ever since.
But that jealousywas quickly replaced with a hotter flame when the servant had announced that Edmund Doyle was nowhere to be found.
Jaxon’s jaw tightened,fingers curling into fists at his sides.
He will nae sullythis union, nor the peace between our clans.
Rage replaced reason,and he rose, towering over the crowd.
“Enough!”Jaxon’s voice cut through the murmuring, calm but edged with iron.
Every head turned,whispers halting mid-word. “Me brother may nae be here, but I am. And I will marry her instead.” The words landed like a hammer, echoing in the stone walls.
He strode forward,eyes blazing, and stopped before Andrew McDougal.
“Laird McDougal,”he said, bowing slightly, voice steady but commanding, “I apologize for the actions of me brother. He is nae what this clan is about. I will marry yer daughter if ye will allow it.”
