Chapter One
Scottish Highlands
Spring
Eilidh Hart’s bloodpumped swiftly through her veins. Her fingers moved deftly over the neck of her fiddle as her bow expertly stroked the strings in an upbeat tempo that drowned out all sound except for the music that she was playing. Her feet tapped in rhythm as she played, and she couldn’t hold back a blissful smile. She was in her element. Lost in a world all of her own.
Performing was what she loved most. The creation of music that others could enjoy. Theceilidhwas in one of the villages outside of Dornich, on neutral lands away from Hartsmoor Castle, and clansfolk from neighboring areas were all in attendance, including her family. The villagers had hosted a fine feast of meats, roasted vegetables, fresh baked bread, and pastries for dessert that everyone had supped on earlier. Now with full bellies and lots of ale being passed around, the atmosphere was jovial.
People gathered around Eilidh and clapped, the music growing wilder and more untamed the longer she continued to play. There were a lot of unfamiliar faces, but also many she recognized. Eilidh paid them no heed as she continued to stroke the strings, unapologetically working the song into a musical frenzy.
She ignored the faces that smiled with feigned interest as they whispered in hushed voices. She kenned what they were saying eventhough she couldn’t really hear them. It was the same thing they always went on about.
“’Tis the scandalous Hart girl.”
“The one that traipses aboot the land with her loose morals.”
All lies. Cruel rumors. None of which had an inkling of truth to it.
Eilidh spun around, turning her attention to a different group of onlookers, most of whom she didn’t recognize. They clapped along, some hooking their arms together and spinning to the music. The joy on their faces as they danced was all Eilidh needed to return the smile to her face.
In the crowd, she found her supportive siblings. Almost always encouraging, but Eilidh wished they wouldtrulysee her. It was easy to get lost when you were one of five siblings, and though they were a very close family, sometimes she felt as if she were part of the mist that covered the loch on cool mornings, fleeting and ethereal. There but not. Present but absent.
Moira, her older sister, stood beside her husband, Errol, both of them clapping along to the tune that erupted from Eilidh’s fiddle. Her second-oldest brother, Rory, was there as well. He squeezed his wife, Alana, close to his side, kissing the top of her head as he stroked the cherub-like, rosy cheek of their wee sleeping bairn she held in her arms. Eilidh was amazed the wee lad could slumber through all the noise.
Eilidh’s calloused fingers moved quickly as the song reached its crescendo. She finished it with a flourish, holding her fiddle and bow up in the air as she dipped into a low bow. The cheers of the villagers, the ones that appreciated her music, filled her ears and she straightened with pride and gave them a smile afore making her way through the crowd. She set the instrument down and snagged a cup of ale from a serving maid with a “thank ye.”
“That was impressive.”
Eilidh turned at her younger sister, Morven’s, voice. “I am no’ sure where Ma and Da are, but I am for certs they are proud. Anotheroriginal, nay?”
She smiled, happy that her sister had noticed. “Aye. Ye liked it? Truly?”
Morven nodded.
Music started and her eyes lit up afore she dashed off to the middle of the square where couples danced. It didn’t take long for one of the village lads to offer his arm to Morven. Of course, she accepted with a wide smile.
Eilidh watched for a while, her head tilted to the side, a bit of longing tugging at her. How she would love to feel like she belonged. If she entered the dancing circle, she kenned that no one would step up to offer her a dance. With a sigh, she leaned against the cool stone of one of the outbuildings, and bent her knee to rest her foot against the wall.
One day, she would find her love. She kenned it would happen. She just didn’t ken when. But Moira had found Errol, and it hadn’t mattered that the Harts and MacLeods were sworn enemies. They still managed to overcome all that adversity to create a strong love that managed to heal the pain of the past and bring the two clans together. And she couldn’t ignore Rory. He had always been one that preferred to be alone. That all changed when he met Alana, and now they had a beautiful family.
“Ye caught the eye of many a man this eve.”
Eilidh slid her eyes to the lad that had approached and leaned against the wall next to her. His leering gaze traveled down her body, pausing on her bosom afore making its way back to her face. She hid the shudder of disgust that threatened under his inspection, and gave him a droll look.
He licked his lips, sticking his tongue out of the corner of his mouth, in what Eilidh could only assume was a move he thought was enticing, and tilted his head, his red, shaggy hair falling over his left eye. The gesture had the opposite effect. “We all ken what ye are like, Eilidh Hart.” He caught a strand of her hair and twirled it around hisfingers before bringing it up to his nose and sniffing.
For a moment, she was frozen in place.
He leaned in close and whispered in her ear. “The stables are nearby. Let us go have a quick tup, aye?” He grabbed his crotch and thrust his hips in his hand.
Disgusted at his crude words, she yanked her head back, and the hair fell from his hand. She pushed him away from her and took a step back.
He put his hands up in defense, mocking her. “Come on, lassie. Dinnae be shy now.”
Spinning she left him standing there, as he continued to call after her.
Shaking her arms out as if she could shake the essence of the boy off of her, she hurried to the edge of the clearing, near the surrounding trees, his words echoing in her ears. She looked over her shoulder, and breathed a sigh of relief, thankful that he hadn’t given chase. Her fists clenched at her sides, she tightly squeezed her eyes shut, trying to block out all the hushed words she would hear whispered around her whenever she played at a gathering of some sort or another. Thankfully alone, she heaved a shaky breath.
