After hurriedly getting ready for the day, she rushed downstairs to break her fast, hoping to beat her siblings that still lived at home, to the meal. She didn’t feel like conversing with them this morn. They would only question her and what she was doing. And why.
They were the last people she wanted to have that kind of conversation with. Especially after her visit from Alpin last eve. She would be fine without seeing him at all this day.
Aside from that, she wanted to travel alone to the village market. One of them, or mayhap, even both of them, would demand they accompany her.
Una, the Hart’s long-time cook, looked up in surprise when Eilidh entered the kitchens in a rush.
“Good morn. Someone is up early this day.” She said with a winkand a smile as she gestured for Eilidh to sit at the table that was pushed up against the wall. She and all of her siblings sat in these seats for plenty of meals. They didn’t always like eating in the Great Hall with their parents and all the warriors. It was loud and boisterous, and the men were raucous.
She would sometimes catch them watching her and she always wondered if it was because they believed the rumors that followed her around seemingly everywhere she went.
Within moments, a plate piled high with fresh-baked scones, steaming hot, was placed in front of her. The fragrant aroma of wild berries wrapped around her, tickling her nose. Una returned with tubs of fresh-churned butter and jam. A pot of tea and an assortment of dried meats finished out the offering.
Eilidh laughed. “Ye have mistaken my appetite for one of my brothers, I fear, Una.”
The cook paused, her hands on her hips as she gave Eilidh a stern expression. “I ken that determined look in yer eye. Whate’er ’tis ye have planned, ye will need a full belly to carry it out.” She waved her hands in front of her toward the food. “Go on. Break yer fast, miss.”
She couldn’t deny the cheery woman, and Eilidh did as she was told. Una was like a second mother to all of the Hart siblings. She had been feeding the castle folk of Hartsmoor afore any of them were born.
Eilidh finished and pushed from the table, patting her belly to show Una she couldn’t possibly eat another bite. “’Twas delicious as always, Una. Thank ye.”
“Always a pleasure, dearie. Now, go on and have yer fun.” She shooed her toward the door. “But please do take care. Dinnae get lost in yer surroundings,” she warned, kenning full well that Eilidh would.
Eilidh turned and gave the woman a quick hug afore leaving the kitchens and making her way outside, thankful that she didn’t run into any of her siblings, or her parents.
The trip was uneventful, but Eilidh had an eerie feeling someone was watching her. Whenever she looked, to see if she could catch whoever it was, there was no one to be found. She was beginning to think she might be going mad. Though, more than likely, it was whoever her da had tasked with following her.
She tried not to let it bother her overmuch, but she still found it frustrating that her parents would not trust in her ability to keep herself safe.
The market was bustling when Eilidh arrived in the village a short time later. She smiled as she watched tots running around chasing each other, a cacophony of screams and laughter left in their wake. Villagers bartered to garner a better price on the wide variety of items available for purchase. Vendors shouted whatever wares they were selling as she passed by the colorful stalls. Calling out to her, hoping to get her to approach. She smiled kindly as she passed, but her eyes were not on the items for sale.
Instead, her eyes scanned the crowd, looking for one person in particular. He had to be here. Deep down in her bones, she felt they had made a connection of sorts the previous eve. He had to have felt it as well. Hadn’t he? The way he had watched her. His smile. Aye, he felt it, too.
Considering whatever past their two families had, he obviously could not go to Hartsmoor, and she for certs could not go to wherever he was from. She kenned he was a MacGregor, but she did not ken where their lands were. Nor did she ken if he lived there. Mayhap he was only visiting.
It made sense that if he had any interest in seeing her, that he would come to the village market and hope she was thinking the same. She sighed and kicked at a loose rock, sending it rolling off to the side.
Mayhap she was putting too much hope in believing their feelings matched.
She walked on as her eyes continued to search the crowd. A few stalls ahead were the vendors that catered to musicians and their instruments. That was where she could purchase new strings, or whatever else she might need. The bow she currently used had been purchased from one of these vendors. It was made of the finest cherry wood which fit her hand perfectly. The bow was unique and one the vendor had acquired on their travels abroad. She had paid hefty coin for it, but she did not regret her decision.
Eilidh liked the sound it produced and the lightness of it. She was also proud that no other fiddler had one similar. At least not one she had crossed paths with as of yet.
Eilidh paused, her breath hitched in her throat.
There. Four stalls ahead, she saw him.
Torquil MacGregor.
She paused her approach.
He was speaking to a lute merchant, who was showing him something that appeared to capture his interest considering the way his attention was focused on the merchant as he spoke.
As if he felt the weight of her stare, Torquil looked up. From the distance, their gazes met—again—but this time, he said some parting words to the man he was speaking to, and approached Eilidh.
Her heart skipped a beat and her palms were suddenly damp. She took a deep breath to settle her nerves and waited as he drew closer.
“Milady,” he said in greeting when he caught up to her. “I am pleased to see ye here.” He bent in a bow and swept his arm out. “Would ye care to walk the market with me?”
