“We will travel to Hartsmoor on the morrow.”
Morven dipped her head. “I will continue to keep yer secret until then and, Eilidh, ye have my support.”
Eilidh hugged her sister once more. “Thank ye. Now, go. Thank ye, Callum, for ensuring her safety. That means much to me.”
She and Torquil watched them leave, disappearing through the trees. For a long while, they both stood there, not moving. Not sayinga word.
A breeze passed through, rustling the branches, and stirring the leaves. Eilidh couldn’t help but make the comparison to an omen. A glimpse into what their life would look like.
Torquil placed his arm lightly around her shoulders. “Let us go home,” he said gently.
Home.
It did not seem possible that Hartsmoor was no longer her home. That it was in Torquil’s cottage that they would build their life together.
As they walked away from the altar, the weight of her new name—she was nay longer Eilidh Hart, now she was Eilidh MacGregor—settled around her like the heaviest of cloaks.
She told herself that with this union, she was free. Free from the overbearing and watchful eye of her family. Free from the gossip and rumors. But somehow it didn’t feel like it.
Inside, they drank cups of heather ale, a gift from Callum, that Torquil had poured as they sat in front of the hearth. Neither spoke. Just stared at the flames as they licked up the stones.
Finally, Torquil spoke. “How do yer nerves fare?”
“My nerves? ’Tis no’ like we havenae shared a bed afore. What an odd question.”
“I wasnae referring to that, but to ye returning to yer home.”
Eilidh felt her face flame. Of course that was what he meant. What he must think of her for her mind to go straight to their coupling.
“I fear the morrow will be wrought with conflict. My family willnae be happy with the events that have passed this morn. My brothers and brother-in-law, weel, they are as pigheaded as can be.”
Torquil nodded. “I am prepared for their reactions. ’Twill come as a surprise. None of us could foresee this happening.”
A sense of melancholy filled Eilidh that she did not want to give voice to. She stood up. “Have ye eaten?” She kenned the answer. Hehad not. Neither had she. She busied herself in the small kitchen. She had never cooked aught in her life, thanks to Una’s impressive cooking skills. But now, she realized how much of a disadvantage that put her in.
Torquil came up behind her as she added oats to a pot. “Have ye cooked afore?”
She hung her head. “Is it that obvious?”
He chuckled. “A wee bit. I am no’ much of a cook myself, but I can teach ye what I ken.” His face drew serious. “I fear I am unable to employ a cook myself.”
“We doonae need one,” she said quickly, and she meant it. “I would love to learn from ye.”
Together they made porridge and warmed bread. They sat across from each other to eat.
The rest of the day they spent lost in their own minds. Thinking of what would happen on the morrow.
That night, Eilidh curled into Torquil as they lay in bed, his warm arms wrapped around her, as he drew lazy circles on her back.
His movements slowed and his breathing evened out, a soft snore escaping his lips.
She closed her eyes, and whispered, “I just wish ye’d chosen me.”
Chapter Sixteen
The closer theygot to Hartsmoor Castle, the more tense Eilidh’s body became. Torquil could feel her stiffen with each step. He tried to put her at ease, but it mattered naught what he did. They entered the courtyard and were stopped by the guards.
“Miss Eilidh, welcome home.” The guard eyed Torquil suspiciously.
