Chapter Twenty-Three
Almost two and a half days had passed since Eilidh had last seen Torquil.
Her stomach was in knots, and she found she had lost her appetite, no matter how much her mother and sisters encouraged her to sup.
She just could not stomach the idea. She missed Torquil immensely.
She was upset that she had uttered such words to turn him away from her.
“You need to eat, Eilidh,” her mother urged for the umpteenth time.
Eilidh shook her head. “I simply cannae, Ma.” She took a sip of tea, the only thing she had been able to stomach since Torquil left. Setting the cup down, she asked. “Do ye ken he will return?”
Lillias smiled. “He has not left, dear. He is committed to your union.”
“How can ye ken? He disappeared and has stayed away. No’ once has he tried to speak with me.” Eilidh pouted, sticking out her bottom lip. She missed her husband.
“I believe ’tis quite obvious to any outside observer, sister.” Moira chimed in. “One thing I have noticed about Torquil is that he cannae hide his feelings verra weel. He is like an open book when it comes to his love for ye.”
Eilidh crossed her arms. “It doesnae feel that way to me.”
Morven rolled her eyes. “Because ye are being too stubborn to see it. Ye have much in common with Alpin, I fear than ye want to admit.”
Eilidh gasped. “Doonae say such things. I dinnae.”
Morven raised her brows as she looked at her in disbelief. “I think ye can ask Ma and Moira and they will say the same.”
She looked over at her mother and sister, silently asking the question Morven posed. Both of the women nodded. Throwing her hands up in exasperation, she asked, “Then why has he no’ come back?”
“Mayhap he is waiting for the right time,” Moira offered.
“Or an invitation,” Morven stated.
Eilidh stood and began to pace the floor, twirling a strand of hair around her finger as an idea began to form.
“Ma. Do ye think ye and da can host a small gathering? Here in the castle. Would ye be willing to do so?”
“I cannae answer for your father, though I can oft convince him to do my bidding in such things,” she answered with a small smile.
“Naught fancy, no fanfare, just music and basic food. Castle folk may come, but the invitation should no’ be extended outside of the castle walls.”
Lillias frowned. “What are you planning?”
“I am going to win my husband back, and in the process, show Da and Alpin that our love is real. That Torquil loves and respects me for who I am.”
Hesitant at first, Lillias finally agreed. “If you are willing to face them, then I will do what I can to help.”
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 she wound 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.