Margaret spokewith a tender concern and asked softly, “Is this truly what ye want, me love?”
Gracie’s throat tightened,and she forced herself to meet her mother’s eyes.
“Yes, Maither,”she said, steadying her voice, “I believe Jaxon is as good an offer as any. I never met Edmund, so I see nay difference in the choice.”
“I am sorry for puttin’ye in this situation,” Andrew said quietly, “if I had known…” his shoulders sagged, regret shadowing his face.
“Daenae fash yerself, Faither,”she said gently, “it is done. Let us look forward to the future and me life at Castle McMillan.” Gracie reached out and touched his arm.
Margaret squeezed her hand,eyes bright with unshed tears. Gracie turned away before her own could fall, pressing her forehead to the glass. Outside, the Scottish countryside unfurled in soft greens and browns, with hills rolling along. Heather brushed the road’s edge, and stone walls stitched the land together in quiet order.
She watchedsheep drift across distant slopes, white flecks against emerald grass. Smoke curled from thatched cottages, thin and white, promising hearths and supper. Rivers flashed silver in the sun, winding through valleys that seemed ancient as time itself. Each mile carried her farther from Castle McDougal, from the safety of all she had known.
The wind stirred the grasses,bending them like waves upon a sea, and she felt herself moving with them. Fear still lived inher chest, but it shared space now with something like resolve. Jaxon’s words echoed in her mind, firm and certain, and she wondered what sort of man could hold such command and such heat. She did not know if love would follow, yet she sensed her life would never again be small.
“I will be brave,”Gracie held herself steady and whispered.
After a few more hours,Castle McMillan revealed itself in all its splendor, rising from a bend in a bright river like a crown of stone. Towers soared high and proud, banners snapping in the wind, their colors bold against gray walls weathered by centuries. A broad bridge arched over the water, leading to iron gates flanked by watchful guards, while swans drifted along the river’s edge as though the land itself were at peace. Gracie gasped.
It dwarfs Castle McDougal,this place is nay mere home but a kingdom unto itself.
The carriage rolledinto the wide courtyard just as the sun was nearing the horizon, wheels echoing off the stone, and servants hurried forward as the doors opened. Jaxon approached at once, offering his hand, and Gracie placed her gloved fingers in his palm as he helped her down. A shiver traced her spine at his touch, the same warmth blooming through her as before, unsettling and strangely welcome. She steadied herself upon the flagstones, aware of every eye upon her and of the man who stood beside her.
“Doye approve of yer new home, Gracie?” Jaxon studied her face and asked quietly.
Bewildered,she turned in a slow circle, taking in the towers, the river’s gleam beyond the walls, and the bustle of his household.
“It is very bonnie.”
His mouth curved in a rare,small smile as he replied, “Good, I’m glad ye approve, and now if ye will allow me, I’ll show ye and yer family the rooms we’ve prepared for yer stay.”
Andrew inclinedhis head and said, “Thank ye for yer hospitality, Laird McMillan.”
They crossedthe courtyard beneath fluttering banners, boots and slippers alike ringing upon stone worn smooth by generations. The great doors opened into a vast hall where firelight danced across carved beams and long tables gleamed with polished wood. Stairs swept upward in graceful arcs, while corridors branched away like arteries, carrying life to every corner of the keep. Gracie felt as though she had stepped into a living creature, ancient and strong, and she wondered where she would fit within its heart.
As they walked,servants bowed and murmured greetings, their eyes alight with curiosity for the new Lady of the keep. Tapestries lined the walls, telling stories of battles won and lands claimed.
Jaxon guidedthem with confident strides, his presence commanding yet calm, and she followed as though tethered by an invisible thread.
He ledAndrew and Margaret first to their chambers, pushing open tall oak doors that revealed a room fit for royalty.
“This will beyer home while ye stay with us,” Jaxon said, his voice respectful, “and I hope it brings ye ease after the day’s trials.”
A grand bedcarved with thistles and lions stood against the far wall, draped in rich blue linens, while a hearth crackled beneath a mantle of polished stone. The gold light of the sun setting beyond spilled through arched windows onto a woven rug, and a small sitting area with cushioned chairs overlooked the river below. It was a place of comfort and honor, and Gracie saw her mother’s eyes widen in awe.
Margaret presseda hand to her chest and murmured, “It is more than we ever dreamed,” while Andrew offered a solemn nod.
Gracie lingered in the doorway,taking in every detail, feeling both pride and a sudden pang of distance from all she had known. The room seemed to whisper that her life had truly turned, that there was no returning unchanged.
The castleno longer felt merely grand, but watchful, as though measuring her worth and waiting for her to claim her place. She squared her shoulders, reminding herself that she was no longerGracie Gallagher, but Gracie Doyle, Lady McMillan. Whatever fear remained, she would not let it rule her in this towering home of stone.
“And now to yer room, Gracie.”He gestured for her and April to follow.
Gracie heldher breath and walked behind Jaxon as he led them through the castle corridors, finally stopping before an elaborately carved door, grander than the one she had already seen. There was an older woman waiting at attention outside of it. Her gray hair neatly braided beneath a white cap.
“This is me maid, Brianna,”he said. “She attends these rooms and will check in from time to time.”
Gracie dipped her head politely,murmuring a greeting as Brianna returned a warm, respectful nod.
