Chapter Fourteen
Torquil wanted to kick himself at the hurt he had inflicted on Eilidh with his final words. That was not how he meant his words to be received, but hindsight told him it would not have been accepted any other way.
Fergus arrived, seeking their answer. Sharply nodding his head at their decision. “Two morns from now, ye shall be married. I will return with the priest.” With a flare of his cloak, he spun on his heel and exited the cottage, leaving both of them stunned with how quickly things were progressing.
Torquil let out the breath he had been holding. He squeezed Eilidh’s shoulder and filled two cups of ale. He handed her one and took his to go sit in front of the hearth. He watched the flames, repeating Eilidh’s acceptance of their fate in his head. Guilt and love warred within him.
He wanted to choose Eilidh. He wanted their union to be their choice.
He had wanted to ask her properly in a grand gesture that she would remember for the rest of her days.
A romantic story that she could tell their children, and then their grandchildren.
He would have written her a song. Instead, she was backed into a corner and the choice of saying aye was taken away from her.
Because in the end, it was not as if she could say nay. There was too much at stake.
He told himself that he agreed out of honor, but the truth was that he would marry her a hundred times over. Their union was always going to be the end result. But that result should not have been forced onto them.
Eilidh joined him and sat in the chair nearby. Looking at him tentatively, she quietly asked, “Are ye for certs that this is what ye want?”
“Aye.” His voice was steady as he did not have to think of his answer, but he avoided her gaze. He drained his ale and stood, looking around the cottage. The cottage that would soon be theirs, and not just his.
He busied himself preparing a space for Eilidh to make her feel more at home. He wanted her to be comfortable here. They would have to visit the market and purchase items that would help make the cottage hers.
“Ye are verra kind to make accommodations for me.”
“’Tis to be yer home, Eilidh, not an inn.”
She rolled her lips inward. “I understand that. But I also ken that ye dinnae have to do such things. I appreciate that ye are taking such care.”
“Ye deserve so much more,” he whispered. “In a few days we can go to the market and ye can decide what ye would like.”
She gave him a small smile and nodded.
His heart was breaking. How did they get here?
Last night, they were consumed with bliss with the world at their fingertips, but today?
Today had been naught but dreadful as they were made to feel guilty over what they had done.
But he didn’t. Not in the least. He wouldn’t trade the times they had spent together for all the riches in the world.
Nay. The holder of his riches was Eilidh.
She was his treasure. He would prove it to her.
He held out his hand and waited for her to accept it. When she placed her hand in his, he smiled. “Let us retire for the night. It has been a long, trying day. We can start anew on the morrow.”
Eilidh let him lead her to his bedchamber, their bedchamber now, he supposed. He helped her slip out of his trews, smiling at how loose they were on her.
“I will leave yer tunic on, if ye dinnae mind.”
He nodded.
They climbed under the throws but did not embrace. Instead, they each stayed on their own sides of the bed as doubts circled in around them.
Torquil didn’t sleep that night. He couldn’t. Not with Eilidh so close, but yet so far. He wanted to wrap his arms around her and love her through the night. He wanted to lose himself in her warm heat. To watch her face as pleasure overtook her.
Instead, when Eilidh’s breathing slowed and she finally drifted off to sleep, he turned his head and watched her sleep.
His heart broken that she believed he would not want her.
How could he deny her? He had wanted her from the very first time he laid eyes upon her.
He would have to work to show her that though the circumstances were out of their control, he would have never walked away.
He would move heaven and earth to make her happy.
In the morning, he rose early, while Eilidh still slumbered and went outside.
Needing to release the tension that had his muscles bunched into tight coils, he attacked the pile of logs that needed to be chopped for fire.
Over and over again, he swung his axe with more vigor than needed, taking all of his anger out on the logs as he tried to silence the voice in his head telling him he did not deserve her.
Callum arrived and leaned against a tree as he watched Torquil for a few long moments, his brows raised in question.
“What did the wood do to ye?”
Torquil ignored his question and asked one of his own. “What are ye doing here?”
Callum looked up to the sky, watching the clouds float by. “I had a visitor that I am for certs ye are aware of.”
Torquil shrugged, and swung his axe once more, sending the split log in two different directions. “Why would I?”
“’Twas Fergus of the Harts.”
Clenching is jaw, Torquil threw the axe to the ground. “What did he tell ye?”
“He kept his visit short and to the point. No’ much, but I suppose I should tell ye congratulations.”
Torquil spun, the look on his face fierce enough that his brother put his hands up in defense.
“I havenae said a word to anyone. He told me ye needed a witness. ’Twill be left in yer hands to deal with our laird. What the hell did ye do, brother?”
He shook his head, trying to figure out how to explain it so it made sense to Callum. “There was a sudden storm that moved through. She sought shelter here.”
Callum frowned, his narrowed eyes studying Torquil. “Why would here,” he pointed to Torquil’s cottage, “be the place she ran to for shelter. How was she so close?”
Torquil pushed his hands through his long hair. “I dinnae have a good explanation. No’ one that would appease anyone but ourselves.”
“I kenned it,” Callum declared. “Ye have been spending time with the Hart lass.” He pointed his finger in Torquil’s direction. “I warned ye. Told ye naught good would come of this and now look.” He waved his arm through the air. “Now she has trapped ye into marriage.”
Before Torquil even kenned what he was doing, he was grabbing Callum’s tunic at the neck, shaking him. “Her name is Eilidh,” he ground out. “And ’twas no’ entrapment.” His gaze slid to the cottage to ensure Eilidh was not seeing what was happening outside. “No’ like ye believe, anyhap.”
“Fine.” Callum shoved Torquil back. “I dinnae ken what happened. But ye two are to be wed—in secret—might I add, as quickly as possible.” His eyes rounded. “Ye defiled her,” he accused.
“I did no’ defile her, Christ!” He looked toward the cottage again. “Weel, I suppose I did, but ’twas mutual. We’ve been meeting for quite some time.”
“Jesus.” Callum grabbed the sides of his head in disbelief. “Seamus is going to have ye flogged for this. Do ye ken what the Harts will do? They will insist on much more than a flogging for ye. The laird’s daughter, brother. What were ye thinking?”
“I love her Callum,” Torquil admitted. “I think I have since the first day I saw her. Afore I e’en kenned her name.”
“Ye cannae be serious.”
“I will work things out with Seamus. And the Harts. This is my problem, and I will solve it on my own.”
Callum shook his head. “I did as I was told and kept mum on why I was leaving. But, hell, brother, ye have opened up the fires of hell with this.”
“I ken what I have done.”
“The clans, either ours or theirs, willnae be happy. And ye ken as weel as I the rumors that abound that lass. This will only make it worse for her.”
“Let them talk,” Torquil replied with barely constrained anger. “I ken something that they dinnae—the truth—and they cannae take that away from her. Away from us.”
Callum scratched the back of his neck. “Sometimes the truth doesnae matter when it comes to situations such as these.”
Torquil nodded, wondering how his younger brother had managed to become so wise.
“I love her,” Torquil confessed quietly.
Callum looked out through the trees and sighed. “Shite. Does she ken?”
“Aye. I have professed my feelings to her.”
“Does she feel the same?”
“She said she does.”
Callum blew out a low whistle and shook his head. “This will be a mess. But since ye have been found in a compromising position, this was the only outcome.”
“I am unsure if Eilidh agrees.” He hated to admit it. The fear that she was only in agreement to save her reputation and her family’s reputation niggled at him.
Callum clapped him on the back. “Out of the three of us, brother, ye were the last one we would have e’er suspected of causing a scandal.” He pushed his hair out of his eyes. “I shall help ye stack the wood. She is inside, aye?”
Torquil nodded. “She was still asleep when I came out earlier to…”
“Release some tension,” Callum finished. “I can find far more fun ways to accomplish that.”
With a chuckle, Torquil dipped his head. His brother was right.
Footsteps sounded and he spun around to the path that led to his home. Their home. Hell, that was going to be hard to get used to saying.
Fergus appeared, a lass at his side. “MacGregor,” he said curtly and, noticing Callum’s presence, nodded in his direction. “I am glad to see ye have made it. Wise man.”
Callum scoffed. “Ye were verra cryptic in yer summons. It really left me nay choice but to come.”
The young woman with Fergus remained silent as her gaze volleyed betwixt the men.
“This is Morven Hart. Just as ye are attending to yer brother, she will attend to her sister and will bear witness to the ceremony.” He pushed her toward the door.
Morven looked from man to man to man, afore she dropped into a brief curtsy and disappeared inside the cottage without saying a word.
Torquil breathed a sigh of relief. He was glad Morven was here to support Eilidh. He kenned they were close and she would offer her strength and compassion for the situation.
Fergus spoke. “I havenae spoken a word to either Laird Hart or Laird MacGregor. That alone will be enough to get me thrown into either dungeon. I only told Laird Hart that his daughter took shelter in a friend’s cottage, and she was safe and would return home in a few days’ time.
” He focused his stare on Torquil. “’Twill be up to ye both to make both of yer lairds aware of what ye have done and what ye have done to make it right.
” With that, he spun on his heel, his cloak arcing behind him.
“I will be back in the morn with the clergy to perform the ceremony,” he called over his shoulder afore disappearing into the woods.
“The next few days will prove to be interesting indeed,” Callum quipped.
All Torquil could do was scrub his palms over his face and wonder how Eilidh was going to fare through it all.