“But I want ye to run! Ye doonae have to participate.” She searched his face, looking to see if she was getting through, but heremained stoic. “I will go to Da,” she announced.
“Nay! Ye willnae.” He pushed his hands through his hair. Frustration making his face red as their argument grew raw. “How do ye expect me to win any respect with yer brother if ye run to yer father on my behest? ’Twillnae.” He grasped her upper arms, forcing her to look at him. “Eilidh, listen to me.”
She felt the pinch of his fingers and wriggled free. “I dinnae care to listen to someone who is going to make such foolish decisions. He will kill ye.”
Torquil shook his head. “I dinnae believe he will go so far as that. He is trying to prove a point. And though I may be a musician, I ken how to swing a sword. I usuallychooseno’ to.”
Eilidh shook her head, not wanting to hear what he was saying. Frustrated that he was not listening to her. Frustrated that he was fine in agreeing to this farce with her brother. Frustrated at how powerless she felt in a world where men will fight to the death over a woman.
“I cannae bear this. The thought of losing ye is too much. O’er something so ridiculous hurts e’en more.”
For the first time, Torquil raised his voice. “I am doing this for ye!”
“And I am asking ye no’ to!” Realizing that she was going to get nowhere in getting Torquil to refuse, she stormed out of the room, angry tears welling in her eyes as her heart hurt in her chest, and as terror over what may happen overtook her.
She escaped to the last place anyone would look for her. Making her way deep into the belly of the castle, she slid open the door to the antechamber that held the Hart annals. The room was cool, but she ignored that as she lit a torch on the wall and dropped into a chair, cradling her head as she cried freely. Loudly, kenning no one would hear her down here.
It was some time afore she heard footsteps outside the door. She clamped her mouth shut, trying not to make a sound, and hoped whoever it was would continue on their way.
Instead, the door pushed open and Moira dipped her head inside, a somber smile on her face. “I have been looking e’erywhere for ye. Many of us have. Good choice on a hiding space.”
Eilidh swiped at her tears, drying her hands on her skirts. “Go away,” she said like a petulant child.
Ignoring her, Moira entered the chamber and shut the door behind her. “What has happened?”
Eilidh scoffed. “Like ye dinnae ken.”
Moira grabbed her hand, closing her fingers around it. “I dinnae. Torquil has been looking for ye. Morven said ye were upset but dinnae ken why.”
Eilidh looked away. “Have ye no’ spoken to Alpin?”
Moira sighed. “Is this our brother’s doing?” she asked, irritation lacing her voice.
When Eildih remained silent, she said, “Choosing to be with someone that yer family has no’ chosen for ye is a difficult situation—for e’eryone involved. Tempers flare, words are exchanged. In the end, those actions are out of caring and love, rather than hatred. It wasnae easy for the family to accept Errol. It wasnae easy for Errol to accept me at first. I felt like I was fighting for his love whilst I was fighting to resolve the rift betwixt our families.”
Eilidh sniffed. “Alpin has challenged Torquil to a duel.”
Moira sucked in a surprised breath. “Nay.”
“Aye,” Eilidh nodded. “And Torquil willnae refuse. It matters naught that Alpin will kill him.”
“Eilidh,” Moira said. “Look at me,” she urged. When Eilidh met her gaze, she continued. “Once a challenge has been thrown down, one cannae refuse without being labeled a coward.”
“Then I will love a coward,” she said stubbornly.
Moira pressed her lips together and squeezed Eilidh’s hands. “’Tis hard to love. But ’tis special when ’tis right. What ye and Torquil share is real. ’Tis evident for anyone that looks upon ye. Men are stubborncreatures that always move to violence to settle things. We may no’ like it, but ’tis the way of things.”
“’Tis daft, if ye ask me,” Eilidh muttered.
“Aye, ’tis. Verra much so. But both Alpin and Torquil are proud, prideful men. Alpin has thrown e’erything he can think of at Torquil, and Torquil has stood strong. This is the last piece that Alpin can throw at him so that he may prove himself. If he refuses, he fails, and Alpin wins. Dinnae let that happen to Torquil. Alpin willnae kill him as ye fear, but he wants to prove that Torquil will truly spill blood for ye. He will accept naught less.”
Moira moved her hands to Eilidh’s cheeks, wiping away her tears, then pushing her hair behind her ear.
“As hard as ’tis, ye need to let the men handle this as men do.” With a hand on her shoulder, Moira gave her a squeeze, then left her alone.
She understood what her sister was saying, but it didn’t mean that she had to accept it. Her stomach was in knots as she thought about all that could go wrong. She didn’t want a hero. She only wanted her husband. The musician that looked at her with passionate eyes.
Leaving the annals room, she crept to her chamber, carefully avoiding anyone. The room was empty and she sat in the window, her stomach churning with unease as she thought of every scenario that could go wrong. She watched until the day grew dark and the sun left the sky, praying that the next day would find Torquil well and unharmed and that it would not break her heart for good.
