He had been sitting, playing Eilidh’s songs on his lute for a long while when Eilidh found him. He did not want to burden her with the argument he’d had with her brother earlier. It would not help aught and would only upset her further. “This will ne’er be my home,” he admitted softly.
She looked at him, confusion marring her bonny face. “I have oft felt like an outsider here myself. But what has happened? Talk to me, Torquil,” Eilidh pleaded.
But he only shook his head, refusing to say any more.
She heaved a deep breath and stood, brushing off her skirts with her hands. “I will return to our chambers and let ye have yer time alone then. Please, dinnae do aught drastic. I need ye,” she whispered, bending to place a kiss upon his cheek.
He watched her walk away, his heart hurting, her kiss lingering, but not kenning what to do.
The cold started to seep into his bones. Mayhap he should just stay here and let the cold overcome him. Consume him and carry him away.
He recalled Eilidh’s voice—soft, defiant, and musical—and kenned he could not leave her. This battle was both of theirs. He would not leave her to fight it alone.
But staying meant fighting for more than her. More than him. It meant fighting for them both.
As a united front, they could be strong and overcome aught. He kenned it to be true.
Doubt began to consume him. What if the Harts continued topush back? To ignore his offerings of a truce. To reject the fact that he loved Eilidh and would do aught to protect her and make her happy.
Would she agree to remain with him if she did not have the support of her family?
It was a question he pondered in his mind over and over again as he returned to Hartsmoor, but his determination to make things right spurred him on.
Chapter Twenty-One
It was darkwhen Eilidh heard the door to her bedchamber open and Torquil slip inside. She breathed a sigh of relief. She had been so fashed that he would not return. Especially when he had missed supper earlier. Alpin took the opportunity to tell her of how Torquil had tried to get under his skin and that they almost came to blows.
“They would have if I hadnae stepped betwixt them,” Morven added, confirming Alpin’s story.
Eilidh had remained silent. It explained why her husband was upset earlier when she had found him. She felt as if she were taking part in an invisible tug-of-war. Torquil on one side. Her family on the other. Both sides pulling her toward them, only for the other side to pull her back. She did not like the situation she found herself in. It was no surprise that her family was being difficult. Their reaction was expected, but she had hoped they would ease up a wee bit after getting to ken Torquil.
But they had not. Couldn’t they see the man he was? The man she kenned and loved.
“Ye arenae asleep.” A statement, not a question.
She shook her head. “I wasnae for certs if ye would return. I wanted to wait up and see.” She looked away from him and stared at the flames burning bright in the hearth.
His sigh was long, but he joined her, sitting in the chair beside her. “I am conflicted,” Torquil confessed. “I am here for ye, Eilidh. My feelings havenae changed. The love I feel for ye burns deep. My only fear is that I willnae be able to convince yer family that my feelings are true.”
“Ye must give them time to adjust. ’Twas a shock to them to find out what has transpired betwixt us.” Taking a sip from the cup of ale she had been nursing all night, she continued. “’Twill happen. My da is a proud man. He likes things to happen in the order that he sees fit.” She chuckled. “When we had our family meeting, he mentioned how, so far, with the three of his children that have married, no’ one of them have followed the path he saw for them.”
“Sometimes life happens. It matters naught what our expectations were.”
She smiled, nodding. “I agree. I feel it deep in my heart that my da will come around and accept ye fully. Take Errol for instance. He was furious when he found out about Moira and Errol. But now? He loves Errol as if he were his own son. I see that for ye as weel.”
Torquil studied her face, a hopeful expression on his. “I hope ye are correct.”
“Now,” she said, her voice growing serious once again. “With that conversation out of the way, shall we discuss why ye must provoke Alpin so? He is always in such a dour mood lately. He loses his temper easily.”
“I didnae provoke him,” he said in disbelief, shaking his head. The movement causing his hair to fall forward and cover his left eye. “He disrespected ye and I would have none of it.”
She caught his gaze. “Morven said she had to step betwixt ye afore ye came to fisticuffs. What exactly would that prove?”
He swiped his hair out of his face angrily. “I suppose he didnae bother to tell ye the full story, did he? I offered to help him repair the fencing he was working on. He dismissed me. I offered again. Then he went on a tangent aboot how I am using ye as a pawn to gain favor inthe clan, which, by the way, makes no sense, since the Harts dislike me wholeheartedly. That aside, I was standing up for ye. I told him I would ne’er use ye. And I sure as hell wasnae trying to gain favor with the clan through ye.” He paused, shaking his head, his irritation growing. “We almost came to punches because he was insistent on saying that I was only using ye. Dismissing my true feelings.”
Why did men always have to approach everything with brutality? She shook her head. “When ye react in such a way, it only makes things worse. Ye willnae win any of them o’er by snarling like a MacGregor.”
“I am a MacGregor!” His voice boomed in the space of the chamber, echoing off the walls. “Christ, Eilidh. I am no’ here to beg them for scraps of affection like some stray dog looking for a bone. That is no’ who I am.”
