Chapter 525

Chapter 525:

Seraphina took a step backward and began to stammer. “Brother, it wasn’t me — she fainted because she’s weak, and the vase p>

“Shut up p>

The words came out low and ferocious, reverberating through the parlor. The room went completely silent. No one present had ever witnessed Grayson lose control at a family gathering. The outburst left everyone motionless.

Victoria’s expression tightened with displeasure. “Grayson, compose yourself. These are your family. To carry on like this over a divorced ex-wife is unacceptable p>

Grayson did not look at her. He cut across her words without a trace of deference.

“She is Effie’s mother. And every one of you stood in this room and watched her fall ill, watched her be framed, and watched her collapse p>

Victoria’s face flushed. She had no response.

Grayson shifted his attention entirely back to Isolde. He adjusted her weight in his arms with careful, deliberate gentleness — precise enough not to jostle her weakened body — and lifted her into a bridal carry.

The movement stirred her. Isolde forced her eyes open a fraction, just enough to register his face. She summoned whatever remained of her strength and pushed feebly against his chest, her voice thin and stubborn.

“Put me down… not the guest cottage… I don’t want it p>

She wanted nothing more from the Lancaster estate — not even their segregated hospitality.

Pо𝗉𝘶𝗅𝗮𝗿 stо𝗿ieѕ on

Grayson tightened his hold. His voice dropped, quieter than anyone in the room had ever heard it.

“Not the guest cottage. I’m taking you to my room p>

The words landed like a stone in still water. Belle’s face drained of color. She drew a sharp breath, her voice cutting with jealousy she made no effort to conceal.

“Gray — that is your private master suite. I have never even been allowed inside. You cannot possibly p>

Grayson did not slow his stride. He did not look at Belle. He carried Isolde through the parlor and up the spiral staircase, leaving the stunned whispers and frozen faces behind him.

As he passed the butler in the hall, he spoke without breaking pace.

“Fetch the family doctor. Master suite. Now p>

The butler, visibly unnerved by the weight of his authority, bowed sharply. “Right away, sir. Immediately p>

Grayson carried her down the long corridor, the thick carpet absorbing his footsteps, his heartbeat steady and rapid against her ear. Effie dried her tears and hurried after them on small, determined legs.

Isolde rested her head against his chest and felt the quick, strong rhythm of his heart — nothing like his usual composure. She tried to push him away again. Her arm lifted an inch, then fell, completely without strength.

At the end of the hall, Grayson shouldered the master bedroom door open. He carried her inside — the room spare and cool, all clean lines and muted tones, permeated with the same cedar scent she had breathed in the parlor. He bent carefully and laid her down on the large king-sized bed, pulling the covers up around her with unhurried hands.