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.”
