They resumed walking,side by side now, though the space between them felt like a chasm.
Jaxon’s voice dropped,rough with turmoil. “I saw ye with him,” he said. “And for one cursed moment, I believed ye chose him over me.” The admission scraped his throat raw.
Gracie stopped again,forcing him to halt with her. “I chose ye,” she said fiercely. “I choose ye every day, even when ye make it damn hard.” She waited, daring him to look. When he still would not, her shoulders sagged.
Jaxon closed his eyes,pain roaring louder than his anger at last. He kept his back to her, afraid of what he might see in her face, afraid he had already broken something precious.
Jaxon halted so suddenlythat Gracie nearly collided with his back, the torches along the wall casting their shadows into jagged shapes. He turned at last, his face tight with fury and hurt.
“Ye would thinkye would have learned yer lesson long ago, when ye wandered the corridors and had that encounter with Hamish.” His voice was low and sharp. “Why did ye nae learn from that, lass?”
“Oh,so now ye see this moment as the same?” she said coldly. “Ye ken I dinnae go to yer brother, just as I dinnae go to Hamish.” Her eyes flashed. “I was innocent both times, and ye ken it.”
Jaxon groanedand dragged a hand down his face, frustration cracking through him. “Aye,” he muttered, pacing a step away. “I see yer point, lass, damn it.” The words tasted like surrender, and he hated how much relief followed them.
Gracie foldedher arms and lifted her chin. “Then admit it,” she said firmly. “Say it plain that I wasnae in the wrong, Jaxon.” She took a step back. “If ye daenae say it, I will nae follow ye another step.”
His temper flared again,hot and reckless, and before he fully thought it through he swept her up, slinging her over his shoulder. “Enough,” he growled.
“Put me down!”Gracie protested, pounding his back with her fists.
He ignoredher protests and strode toward their chambers, jaw clenched, heart pounding.
Jaxon carriedher through the doorway and set her on her feet, the room closing in around them with its familiar stone walls and low firelight. Gracie straightened at once, smoothing her chemise with shaking hands.
“And now what?”she demanded. “Will ye abandon me, or will ye stay in these chambers?” Her voice wavered despite her effort to sound strong.
He exhaled harshlyand turned away, scrubbing his face again. “Ye give me nay choice, now do ye?” he said. “If I leave, ye’ll wander these halls again, and I cannae have that.” The words sounded like an excuse even to him.
Jaxon pouredhimself a measure of whisky, his hand unsteady, and swallowed it in one burning gulp. His pride urged him to keep accusing her, to cling to his anger like armor. Yet his mind replayed the truth with brutal clarity: Edmund was the serpent, not Gracie. She had been frightened, not faithless.
He leaned against the table,eyes closed, breathing slowly as the whisky warmed his chest.
“Damn him,”Jaxon muttered, meaning his brother and himself in equal measure. He felt the anger ebb, leaving behind shame and a gnawing fear of what his accusations had already cost him. When he opened his eyes again, he knew the battle was no longer with Gracie, but with his own wounded pride.
He stood stillby the table, the anger finally loosening its grip on his chest as the fire crackled low beside them. He drew a slow breath and let it out, feeling the weight of his own stubbornness settle heavy and unwanted. In that quiet, he chose to lay his fury down, knowing it had wounded them both. When he turned to Gracie again, his voice had lost its edge.
He pouredanother glass of whisky, the amber liquid catching the firelight, and held it out to her.
“For yer nerves,and me mood swings,” he said softly.
Gracie hesitated onlya moment before taking it, lifting the glass to her lips and drinking. The tension in her shoulders eased just a fraction.
Jaxon watched her closely,his gaze steady and careful. “Are ye sure he dinnae hurt ye?” he asked, calm but deadly beneath it.
Gracie shookher head at once. “Nay,” she said, firm and clear, “he dinnae.”
“Good,”Jaxon replied, a grim promise settling in his tone. “I’d have hunted him down and killed Edmund meself if he had.”
The words were simple,final, and then silence followed them. In that stillness, the last embers of their battle faded into ash.
Gracie setthe empty glass aside. “Why havenae ye been to our chambers?” she asked. “Have I displeased ye in some way?” Her voice softened. “It’s been so long.”
Jaxon closed his eyes briefly,shame tightening his throat. “I was being a bampot,” he admitted. “I thought ye might see Edmund returned and think he’d be the better husband.” He opened his eyes to her again. “I couldnae bear to see it in yer eyes if ye did.”
Gracie scoffedand shook her head. “Edmund disgusts me,” she murmured, the words edged with truth.
“I believe ye,lass. I'm sorry I ever doubted it. Please accept me apology?” he said.
