Eilidh jumped up and down, clapping her hands. She had never once felt like having such a reaction. “Thank ye!” She hugged her mother tightly.
“Do you have a particular room in mind?”
Eilidh nodded. “Aye, the Great Hall. I can speak with Una. I doonae want her to prepare aught special. I want the focus to be on my music.”
“Och, this will be a fun night,” Morven said excitedly.
Later that afternoon, with the help of Morven, Eilidh decorated the Great Hall. She placed simple pine garlands over the hearths and small bouquets of spring wildflowers on each of the tables. She spoke with Una earlier and had requested loaves of fresh bread and pots of honey. Jugs of heather mead were ready to be served to guests as they would enter and take their seats.
In her bedchamber, she changed into a rich-blue gown, the color of midnight, and Joan brushed out her hair until it cascaded in soft waves down her back. Once she was ready, she found her old fiddle, one that she stored for special occasions. It was worn, but beloved and she carried it downstairs to the Great Hall and placed it by the hearth.
The room was starting to fill with people. She heard a few snide remarks, whispered behind hands as if that would stop her from hearing them. She ignored those that did so. She saw it now. Saw how they were so unhappy with their own miserable lives that they had to find happiness in telling lies about her. Let them have their fabricated reality. They nay longer held any power of her, nay matter how little attention she paid them. From this point on, they no longer existed in the world she wanted to build for herself.
Her family sat at the dais, her parents in the middle. Alpin to her father’s right, then Rory and Alana on his side. Moira, Errol, and Morven sat on her mother’s side.
Eilidh walked around the room, greeting guests as they arrived and found an open seat at the tables. All the while, she waited with nervous breaths that Torquil would appear in the entry. Serving maids refilled mugs with mead and ale.
Her breath hitched when she saw her husband standing near the entryway of the Great Hall, leaning against the stone archway, watching her with serious eyes. Quickly, she moved to the hearth and fetched her fiddle, then approached Torquil hesitantly.
“Play with me?” she whispered with a small smile.
He gave her a curt nod and followed her into the room as shewound her way through the crowd, stopping in front of the dais and her family.
Their music started soft, easy. Familiar. Old Highland ballads that each of them had played oft. As they played on, Torquil relaxed, letting the music overtake him. Their harmonies blended perfectly, so much so that even Alpin lost the permanent frown that was always plastered on his face as of late.
Clansfolk began to leave their tables and gather around she and Torquil, drawn in by the sound. Mesmerized by the melodies.
They began to play a jovial Highland jig and could not help smiling at one another. Laughter stirred through the crowd. Someone began to clap in beat with the tune. Then the unthinkable happened, the tension in the room began to crack, just a little, but enough to be noticeable.
Eilidh’s heart burst with hope and joy. Her plan was working.
As they played the final notes, the sound fading away, Torquil touched Eilidh’s back. The warmth from his fingers seeping through her gown. She leaned into him, wanting to be closer. Longing for the touch of her husband again.
She looked back at him, his gaze clashed with hers, hope blooming eternal in his bright-green eyes. They said naught aloud but shared so much in their silence.
And at that moment, Eilidh kenned. She kenned that somehow, someway, they would overcome whatever obstacles that were thrown at them.
Chapter Twenty-Four
The clapping subsided,and Torquil looked at Eilidh, realizing how much he had missed her. How much he did not want to spend another moment away from her.
He stepped toward the dais. “I wrote something new, for Eilidh.” He met Lillias’s gaze and gave her a wistful smile. She nodded, encouraging him to go on.
He sat in an empty chair near the hearth, facing Eilidh, and began to play. At first his fingers and his voice were uncertain. It was the first time he had ever felt doubtful in his playing. But as he continued, he filled with boldness, his voice stabilized, as he sang the lyrics he had written.
Words that told of their story. A ballad of passionate and unforgiving love.
Eilidh’s eyes filled with tears, rolling in fat drops down her cheeks as she watched him, listening. Realizing what he had done.
Morven approached Eilidh and drew her into the middle of the room, swaying to the melody, their hands entwined.
He glanced over to the dais. Alpin watched silently, his jaw clenched tight. He didn’t ken what else he could do to prove he loved his sister with all his being.
The room fell into a hush, completely absorbed by the emotion emitting from the music.
When Torquil finished, he stood and approached the dais once again. Softly, he addressed Arthur and Lillias. “I love yer daughter with all my being. All my heart.” He turned to Alpin. “I love yer sister. I ken ye dinnae believe it, but I hope in time, ye can. I vow I shall spend the whole of my life proving how much I love her.”
Morven was the first to start clapping, a smile on her face. Moira followed. Lillias grinned broadly. Torquil’s gaze met Arthur’s and he waited, holding his breath. Hoping he had done enough to show them that his feelings were true.
