Chapter Twenty-Two
Torquil was sulkily walking past the gardens looking for a quiet place to spend the morn, when he heard his name being called. He had spent the night outside in the cool air, not wanting to return to Eilidh’s bedchamber after their fight.
He turned to find Lillias Hart waving him over from the garden side table she sat at. “Come sit with me,” she requested with a smile. “I could use some company.”
Unable to resist her request, he ambled over, set his lute to rest against the stone wall surrounding the garden, and took a seat. “Good morn, Lady Hart.”
Lillias waved her hand in the air in dismissal and scoffed. “Och, please, I am your mother-in-law now. We’re family. There is no need to address me so formally.”
Torquil nodded, his lips pressed together.
“’Tis a lovely morn. I felt the urge to enjoy the fresh air with a spot of tea.” She pointed to the metal kettle. “Would you like a cup?”
“Aye, please.” If he was going to sit and converse with his wife’s mother, it would be rude to reject the offer. He could use the warmth anyhap. Lillias poured him a cup of tea, and he nodded as he accepted the cup, steam swirling into the air. “Thank ye.”
The sun was quickly warming the day, and the garden was full of life. Bees buzzed from bloom to bloom, getting their fill of the sweet nectar afore moving to the next flower. Birds sang happily from the surrounding trees.
Lillias began to hum a melody. One he kenned well. It was one that he had written.
Startled that she was so familiar with the tune that she could hum the piece, he raised his eyebrows in surprise.
“Aye, I ken your work. You are a very talented young man. Much like my dear Eilidh.” She cocked her head to the side, and he felt the weight of her gaze as she studied him.
So much so he almost wanted to shrink away. But he sat up straighter.
“You love her, but you’re scared that your love is not enough.”
She read him like a tome. “Aye. Is it that obvious?” Torquil asked.
Lillias nodded slowly. “Very much so. You wear your declaration of your love on your sleeve. One would have to be blind not to see.”
“I do love her,” he confessed, rubbing his palms on his trews. “She is verra special. I have told her as much.” His face grew serious.
“Then why do I get the feeling you are in distress?”
He harrumphed. “Ye have a gift for reading my exact feelings.”
She leaned close to him conspiratorially. “My five children have given me that gift. You shall see when you have little ones of your own. You will learn quickly enough.”
Torquil smiled, hoping that Lillias was correct. “I feel like I am failing yer daughter. I am trying to be the person that everyone is expecting me to be—and I am failing at that, too. I cannae change who I am,” he confessed. “But I fear in no’ doing so, I will ne’er be accepted.”
Lillias chuckled, surprising him. “They do not have to accept you. Eilidh does.”
“I doonae understand. Without the support of her family, I dinnae ken how Eilidh and I can build a life,” he admitted.
She smiled. “Let me tell you a story. A true one that involved a legend that came to fruition, a magical well, and a marriage determined by said legend.”
Torquil listened in rapt attention as Lillias went on to speak about how she and Arthur Hart met.
How she thought he was a barbaric brute of a man being a Scotsman.
She spoke about how he annoyed her when he spoke about not believing in the legend of the well.
And how, in the end, the legend prevailed, and their marriage was sealed in fate.
“It was scandalous when it happened. Now?” she shrugged. “Not so much. Our story, much like the legend’s, has been romanticized as the years go on.
“Love outlasts anger. It doesn’t silence it—it outlasts it. By far you will get further in living a happy life sharing your love over your anger.”
Torquil thought about her words of advice and wondered if she was right. Would Eilidh want to spend her life with him without the blessing of her family?
Lillias patted his hand. “Do not fret. My husband will come around, I can assure you.” She shrugged her shoulders.
“My eldest son, well, that may take time. He is working through his own problems at the moment. The whole experience has soured him on all things love. Once he finds it again, he will see the light and realize that you and Eilidh love each other very much. That you make each other happy. That is all that matters.”
“Ye make it sound so easy,” he said quietly, looking out to the trees.
Lillias straightened in her chair, piercing him with a serious look. “What have you given Eilidh that no one else has?”
Torquil thought for a moment, pondering her question. “Music,” he answered finally.
She smiled, a kenning look in her eye. “Then give that to her again.” She stood, and he felt his confidence building at the support she showed him.
“Use your music to remind her why she chose you.” She patted his shoulder and left the garden, leaving him there to go over their conversation in his head.
He did not see Eilidh at all that afternoon.
He was beginning to fash that she was actively avoiding him.
He supposed he could understand why the way he had stormed from her chamber the night afore not to return.
He had not seen her sisters either. Mayhap they were all banding together to offer Eilidh their support that she so desperately longed for.
Passing Alpin outside near the stables, Torquil decided to make a wide berth around the man and not offer assistance of any type. Eilidh’s brother would only refuse his offer anyhap, so why waste his breath and open the door that would lead to another argument.
That night, he once again did not return to Eilidh’s bedchamber.
He found a quiet place out in the courtyard and pulled out the parchment he kept close.
He reviewed the song he had begun to write afore he and Eilidh were married.
It was a song that he planned on gifting her when the time was right.
He read through the lyrics he had written, unhappy with how they did not delve deep enough into his feelings.
He scratched out what was on the parchment and started anew. He kept the melody, but changed the words, opening his heart, building the song like he wanted them to build their marriage. This time, the song ended in harmony. Sweet, jubilant harmony.
Lute in hand, he strummed the strings to match the notes he had written, singing softly by the firelight, his voice shaky with nerves, but realized those words were the most honest he had ever been.
He hoped, when Eilidh heard it, if he had the chance to perform it for her, that she would understand his true feelings.