Chapter Five #2
He looked at the case on her shoulder. “Ye brought yer fiddle.”
Her cheeks heated and she was glad of the change of subject. “I did. E’er since meeting ye, I have wanted naught more than to play with ye.”
He grinned. “Would ye believe me if I told ye that I have had that same longing?”
“Have ye?”
“Aye.”
“Weel then.” She giggled, emboldened by his reaction at seeing her, and slipped the case from her shoulder.
Retrieving her fiddle and bow. She pointed in Torquil’s direction.
“I challenge ye to keep up with this reel.” She began to play one of the most complicated reels she kenned.
Her fingers flying along the neck of her fiddle.
Her bow wildly sliding over the strings.
The happy tune had her dancing around the area, stomping her feet to the beat.
This was what happened when she played her music.
All her nerves, all her insecurities. They disappeared.
Lost in the sound of notes emitting from her fiddle, making her feet and body move to the beat.
Within seconds, and with a wicked glint in his eye, Torquil joined in. “Challenge accepted,” he called out. She watched as his fingers expertly strummed his lute, catching onto the rhythm almost immediately.
Whenever he seemed to get comfortable, she changed the tune, increased the pace of the reel. Until finally, too caught up in watching each other play, they both lost the rhythm.
They fell into a heap on the ground, laughing and breathing heavily. Huge grins on both of their faces.
“Ye are wicked for playing such a punishing reel,” Torquil teased. “I thought my fingers were going to bleed.”
Eilidh chuckled. “But they arenae, are they?”
He held his hands up so she could inspect the pads of his fingers.
“They arenae,” she confirmed. “Though they are a wee bit reddened.
“I will accept that,” he said with a smile. “Tell me about the stories yer music tells.” Torquil prodded as they lay on their backs, gazing up at the sky.
“Doesnae e’ery song tell a story? Mine are nay different.
Some songs are superficial. I have written songs about beautiful flowers that I have come across.
But others, others are deeper. My family.
My brothers and sisters. They are all subjects of my songs.
” Her voice grew serious. “Others are aboot me.”
“Like the one ye played when I first saw ye?”
She nibbled at her bottom lip, wondering how much she should say.
But the look in Torquil’s bright green eyes, his soft countenance when he spoke to her, she felt comfortable with him.
It felt as if she had kenned him for years.
Mayhap they were lost souls. She shook her head to clear it afore she harbored any more daft thoughts, concentrating on how to answer his inquiry.
If anyone would understand putting one’s emotions into a song, it would be him.
“Aye. Like the one ye heard. It starts off slow, light, showing the listener that the character in the song is enjoying her day, her time. Her heart is light. But then, slowly, the song turns darker, gloomier, mournful almost as the character is confronted by those that doonae ken her. They dinnae understand her. And since they dinnae, they spread falsehoods.” She looked over at Torquil, embarrassed that she revealed something so personal.
He watched her, sincerity and understanding clear on his face. “That lass is ye.”
It was not a question, but a statement.
Eilidh had never felt so understood. She nodded.
“I am sorry that ye must face such people that have naught better to do than spread gossip and create horrid rumors. Such things are unbecoming, and they should ken better.” He sat up and took hold of his lute and began to play.
She sat up as well, drawing her knees to her chest and wrapping her arms around them as she listened to the ballad he played. The tune was soft and lovely.
Soothing.
She smiled at his kindness and closed her eyes to listen, drawn into the emotions the song made her feel. The joy of running through a flowery meadow, the sun warming her skin, without a care in the world. That’s how the song spoke to her.
Torquil finished with a final thrum, and she opened her eyes and met his stare. “That was beautiful.”
“No’ as beautiful as ye.”
Her eyes widened.
But he carried on as if he hadn’t let that slip.
Instead, he started a new song. One Eilidh was familiar with.
It told the story of a couple that fate deemed to keep apart.
Their love was strong, but not strong enough to win over what the universe had challenged them with.
The song ended and they sat in silence, letting it stretch betwixt them.
The story of the song lingered. It could have been written about them.
Fated love. Love that wasn’t meant to be.
She almost scoffed. Her thoughts of love were misplaced. She had only met this man. There had been no courtship. It was too soon for that.
Their eyes locked, and Eilidh’s heart skipped a beat when Torquil reached for her hand. Her breath caught when he stopped just short of touching her. She didn’t pull away.
She did the opposite and closed the small distance betwixt them, tangling her fingers in his.
Time seemed to stand still.
They spoke no words, but yet, they didn’t have to.
They understood each other, as if it were destiny.
As if the world around them had worked its magic to bring them together.