Chapter Thirteen
Eilidh rushed from where she had been standing to join the two men. “What did ye say?”
Fergus repeated his decree he had stated afore. “Torquil must marry ye, or yer reputation, and yer family’s name will be destroyed.”
Eilidh stumbled back, stunned. Torquil reached out to steady her.
Still stunned, she fought for the ability to speak, as her heart raced with panic and confusion.
This could not be happening. How could a night that had given her so much pleasure, showed her what being wanted felt like, end like this?
Her eyes clashed with Torquil’s fierce green gaze as he silently watched her, his face unreadable, which only made her feel more vulnerable. She clenched her fists as she looked betwixt the two men.
Both unmoving. Both silent. Both holding their anger in check.
She thought of her family. Her parents would be furious with her for giving herself so freely. It mattered naught that she did not think she had done so. It mattered naught that she and Torquil had declared their love last eve. When she looked at him now, his face was blank, his lips a thin line.
And what would her siblings say? Would they understand? Would they even give her a chance to explain? They already shielded her as best she could from the whispers and rumors that followed her wherever she went. Only now, she supposed they were not rumors any longer.
She felt trapped. Like a hare in one of the snares that Rory set in the woods.
The snare would catch one of the hare’s legs preventing it from hopping away.
Sometimes the poor things would fight to the death trying to escape, and other times, they gave up and waited, not realizing that, in the end, their fate was the same no matter which option they chose.
She wanted to scream. To cry. To fight. To run. She wanted to do it all at the same time, her stomach knitted into a tight knot.
But even more so, she wanted to smack the elder, not caring how disrespectful the action would be, for trapping her in such a manner.
For trapping Torquil, who for certs did not deserve to be trapped with her.
Eilidh looked at Torquil, standing tall, strong, his muscles taut with tension.
She remembered the night they shared. The warmth of the firelight being replaced with the warmth of his body.
Their music and the beautiful melodies they created together.
The future she had begun to see for them.
Not this forced union that was being insisted upon them.
She kenned it was not only her choice, but that Torquil also had to agree. However, she had to speak her peace.
Closing the distance betwixt them she placed a hand on his warm chest, closing her eyes for a moment to soak in his heat. She met his gaze and spoke. “If I say nay,” she whispered, “I lose everything. If I say aye, I might lose myself.”
Torquil watched her silently, pain in his eyes, as she stepped back.
Fergus grunted at them. “This is a matter that needs to be settled with haste. Ye have until sunset to decide. If ye dinnae, I go to Laird Hart and tell him what I found. In the meantime, I will call off the search and let them ken ye were found safe and will return.” With that, he plopped his wet hat on his head and left them alone in the cottage.
After a long silence, Torquil said, “Eilidh, I—”
She cut off his sentence and whatever it was that he was going to say.
She wasn’t for certs that she wanted to hear it.
“Dinnae speak. I believe we both need time to think.” Entering his room, she rummaged through his trunk and found a pair of trews to pull on.
They were far too large for her and she had to tie the laces tight.
Even then, they threatened to fall to her ankles.
Walking to the hearth, she picked up her gown and chemise, hanging them on the hooks nearby so they could finish drying. She stepped into her boots and grabbed her fiddle and bow.
As she moved through the cottage, she felt Torquil’s eyes upon her, but she didn’t meet his gaze. She didn’t want to see the pain there. The regret shining in his eyes. She didn’t think she could handle seeing that right now.
She moved around him, her hand on the door handle.
“Eilidh, dinnae leave.” He finally spoke, his voice low, somber.
“I am no’. I just need some time alone. To think,” she added and then left the cottage.
The ground was still wet from the storm that passed through the night afore.
Leaves littered the ground, along with fallen branches.
She walked with no particular direction in mind, stepping over puddles, her boots sinking in the mud.
She laughed when she found herself in the glen where they had met so many times.
Leaning against a tree, she brought her fiddle up and slowly slid her bow across the strings. The result was a somber note. Tragic. But she didn’t play long. Instead, she found herself sliding down the tree until her bottom hit the ground and her back rested against the trunk.
She couldn’t stop the tears that rolled down her cheeks in fat drops. She swiped angrily at them. When she had begun to see a future that included Torquil, never in her wildest of dreams had she ever thought it would be because he was forced to marry her.
How awful must he feel. The rabbit in the snare.
He for certs was regretting his decision to bed her.
If he had not done so, he would not find himself in this dire predicament.
She kenned he would agree to Fergus’s terms. Torquil was too much of a gentleman not to.
And that angered her. She swiped angrily at the tears that would not stop falling.
Afore all of this happened, she loved how gentlemanly he was.
But now. Now his sense of pride and morals would saddle him down to a life with her that he might not have wanted.
And that made her angry. Angry for him and whatever dreams he held that he could no longer pursue.
She was the cause of that. Why had she been so foolish to track down his cottage?
Mayhap she was deserving of the rumors and gossip that followed her around.
She just was late in actually doing something to deem herself worthy of them.
She looked out over the glen, soaking in its beauty.
The lush green. The bloom of wildflowers.
The patches of Scotch moss. Around her, the forest was alive.
Birds flitted from branch to branch, singing their lovely songs as they communicated with one another.
Squirrels twittered as they jumped from tree to tree, then dropped to the ground to fill their mouths with chestnuts afore climbing the trees and dropping their treasures in their hollows.
Finally, her tears stopped, leaving her eyes swollen and red.
It had been years since she had had such a cry.
Not since her grandmother had passed. The thought of her grandmother almost made her cry again, but she didn’t think she had any tears left.
She’d cried herself dry. She was unaware of how long it had been since she’d left Torquil’s cottage.
Time seemed to have ceased the moment she had sat down.
She wondered if he was worried that she would not return? Happy, mayhap?
Nay, she believed he was just as distraught as she was.
Standing up, she brushed the pine needles, grass, and dirt from her backside. The trews she wore were damp, but she didn’t care. She supposed it was time to return to the cottage and face Torquil. The sun would be setting soon and Fergus would return, expecting an answer.
When she entered the cottage, Torquil pushed his chair from the table, where he had been cradling his head in his hands and stood. He had dressed in a tunic, his feet were still bare.
“Ye’ve returned.” It was a statement, but sounded very much like a question as if he believed she would not.
“Of course.”
For a long moment, they each stood there, not moving.
Gazes colliding, mouths pursed with unspoken words.
She disliked this feeling that they were suddenly strangers.
They had spent so much time getting to ken each other, and suddenly, even after she gave her most precious gift to him, there was this huge chasm betwixt them that she did not ken if they would be able to overcome.
And then he opened his arms and she rushed into them, clinging to his heat, his strength. He squeezed her tight, kissing the top of her head tenderly.
Pulling away slightly so she could look in his eyes, she searched his face for any sign about what his answer might be. Whatever it was, she would accept, but she would give him hers.
“I am fully aware that the current circumstances we find ourselves in arenae aught that we expected. I dinnae ken what yer decision is. Howe’er, I shall tell ye mine. I say we move forward. If ye will have me, I will marry ye.”
Torquil looked at her for a long moment. So long, that she began to fash that mayhap she had been too forward. She began to worry her bottom lip as she watched a myriad of emotions flit across his face.
“I will marry ye, Firebrand.”
Her heart soared at his decision.
“I willnae have yer reputation ruined,” he added.
And it felt like a punch to her gut.
Less than two days.
In less than two days she would be wed. Guilt consumed her.
She always imagined her family at her wedding ceremony.
A huge clan gathering. A boisterous ceilidh where she would play her fiddle and she and her husband would dance and celebrate.
Not hide in the forest and appear married suddenly because actions they had taken had brought them to this point.
Now, Torquil was being forced to marry her, no matter if he wanted to or not.
She had taken away his choice, and she felt horrible kenning that.
The thought of how angry her ma and da would be at learning what had happened, already had her regretting her return to Hartsmoor. And then there was Alpin. He had been in such a mood since he ended his courtship, he would be impossible to deal with, especially after his warning.
With a sigh, she nodded and stepped away from Torquil, wondering if she could hide here for the rest of her days, staying far away from her troubles, but kenning she couldn’t. Fergus had found her here, her family would as well.