Chapter Twenty-Six
Torquil had to rein in his anger after Eilidh had told him about the ultimatum that Alpin had presented her with. Asking her to choose betwixt him and her family was dastardly. There was nay reason for it.
He found Alpin sharpening blades behind the barn. For the briefest of seconds, he paused, but he didn’t let the fact that the man who could not stand him was sharpening items that could end his life with the quickest of slices deter him.
With a deep breath, Torquil calmly stepped into Alpin’s space. “We need to speak—man to man,” he said, his voice strong.
Alpin straightened, his shoulders tense as he eyed Torquil.
The air was thick with challenge.
Torquil waited for Alpin to order him to leave his space as he had done so many times afore. When he didn’t, he cleared his throat and said what he needed to say.
“When I fell in love with yer sister, I ne’er intended it to divide her family.
She loves ye all verra much. And I love her verra much.
I would like to find a way to mend this divide, but nay matter what happens, I will never leave Eilidh.
” He paused, allowing Alpin to soak in what he was saying.
When the man didn’t speak, just stood there watching him with narrowed eyes and crossed arms, Torquil continued.
“She is the best thing that has e’er happened to me—and if protecting her makes me the enemy, then so be it. I will remain so.”
“Would ye die for her?” Alpin spat, his face fierce.
Without hesitation, Torquil replied, “Aye. In a heartbeat.” And he would. He would gladly put his life on the line for his wife.
Alpin looked stunned at his answer, but he said naught, storming off toward the castle, but something shifted in his demeanor.
Was luck finally on Torquil’s side and Alpin was now coming to see how much he loved Eilidh? He could only pray that was the case.
Morven approached him, a sly smile on her face. “I saw what ye did there.”
Confusion furrowed Torquil’s brows. “Pardon?”
“Yer conversation with Alpin. I heard the whole thing.”
“’Tis no’ proper to eavesdrop.”
Morven laughed. “If that is the case, ye would be best to no’ have such conversations in public where there are lots of people around to watch and listen.”
Torquil sighed, pushing his hair out of his face. “I suppose ye are right.”
“Anyhap, I just wanted to tell ye that ye did weel.”
Torquil grunted, shaking his head. “How so? He still stalked off without offering any sort of acceptance.”
“It was in his question.” Morven smiled.
“When ye answered, ye did so quickly, and most importantly, ye didnae flinch. That was what mattered.” She placed a hand on his arm.
“My brother is as stubborn as they come, but he understands and respects strength. That is what ye showed him. He will come around.” She patted his back and then left him alone with his thoughts.
Mayhap she was right, but only time would tell. Of all the people that Torquil thought he would have to fight with to gain their acceptance, it was not her brother that he’d thought would pose the biggest challenge. Nay, he had given that title to Arthur.
How wrong he had been.
“There ye are. I have been looking for ye e’erywhere.” Eilidh smiled, holding up his lute. Slung across her shoulder was her fiddle case.
He pulled her close and captured her lips in a deep kiss.
“Ye are a sight for my weary eyes, Firebrand.”
Her eyes danced. “I verra much enjoyed that greeting. I declare that is how I would like to be greeted from here on out,” she giggled happily.
“Then I shall do my best to grant yer wish.” He accepted his lute, and they began to walk away from the barn.
“I thought we could go to the loch and practice.”
He had not yet visited the loch that bordered their land and he let Eilidh lead the way. The path was lined with trees on either side and covered with pine needles, the scent tickling his nose. The trees opened up to a vast loch, the water a deep blue glistening under the sun.
Eilidh unfolded the blanket that he had not noticed she had been carrying and he grabbed two corners so they could spread it evenly on the ground. She set her fiddle case down and sat on the blanket to remove her boots, placing them to the side of the blanket.
“Walk with me along the shore?” she asked, looking up at him, squinting against the sun.
Torquil toed off his boots and clasped her hand. The rocky sand was warm under his feet as they walked, hand in hand, along the water, trying to stay away from the small, cold waves so they didn’t get wet.
“This is one of my favorite places to play,” Eilidh said with a smile. “With only the birds and the fish to listen and judge.”
He nudged her with his shoulder. “I doubt anyone would judge yer playing. If they do, it has to be out of pure jealousy. There is nay fault in yer music.”
She looked up at him, a huge grin on her face. “Ye always ken to say the right things. ’Tis verra kind of ye.”
“I only speak the truth.” He paused, turning her to face him and held her close. “I would ne’er say aught but.”
Eilidh lifted on her tip toes and kissed him gently. Then squeezed him tight, laying her head on his chest.
He buried his face in her hair, breathing in the scent of heather.
Later as they sat upon the blanket, playing songs they were each familiar with, Torquil realized he never wanted to spend a day out of Eilidh’s presence. She was his life now.
They finished a particularly difficult duet and collapsed onto the blanket in exhaustion, laughing.
Their gazes clashed, fire burning in the depths of their eyes.
He dropped his head and kissed her fiercely, the need to be inside her strong.
They fumbled with their clothing, coming together quickly, and he buried himself in one quick thrust as she gasped his name near his ear.
Her arms tightening around him, pulling him closer.
Urging him deeper. Their lovemaking was fast, each of them rising to their climax in moments.
Their chests heaving, moans escaping until they both tumbled over the unseen edge.
Torquil rolled onto his back, stroking Eilidh’s hair and shoulders as she snuggled into his side.
“Ye are amazing, Firebrand,” he said, his voice deep, husky.
“As are ye, husband.”
He smiled at her statement. It was the first time she had called him husband as a nickname in their conversation and he found that he rather liked it. He kissed her forehead.
“Yer family willnae break us, Eilidh. No’ unless we let them, and I dinnae ken aboot ye, but I ken I willnae let them.”