Page 16 of Ruining a Highland Healer
But even if she did, where would she go? Going back home was impossible, not only because her father would surely be furious with her for escaping, but also because she never wanted to lay eyes upon him again. She had no home; she had no one left, and the reality of it was only just beginning to settle in, making her doubt everything she knew.
"How is yer leg?" Torrin asked, much to Valora’s surprise. He seemed genuinely concerned by her injury, though the skin hadn’t even been broken and she wasn’t bleeding. She shrugged a shoulder and waved her hand dismissively, but Torrin was insistent. "May I see?"
She didn’t particularly like the idea of Torrin seeing her calf, but with the way he was looking at her, as though he was about to grab her leg himself and bring it right up to his eyes, she lifted her dress and showed him.
The next surprise came in the form of Torrin standing from where he sat and coming to crouch next to her, peering over it. Just as he had promised her, he didn’t touch her. All Valora felt was the warmth of his breath as it was whispered over her skin, feather-light and tender, and she couldn’t help the way her heart skipped a beat. Torrin was too close to her. In order to be satisfied that she was not hurt, he had leaned right over her, and now Valora was torn between wanting him closer and needing to push him away.
"It looks undamaged," Torrin said with a soft hum. "Must have been a very old, very dull trap. O’ course, I could tell better if ye allowed me tae touch ye?—"
"Nay!" Valora cried, snatching her leg back and covering it with her skirts. Torrin’s gaze snapped up to her eyes, and the two of them stared at each other in silence, something unspoken and confusing brewing in the air between them. Valora couldn’t identify it—she couldn’t name it, but she knew it was something she both desired and detested.
In the end, it was Torrin who looked away, standing from her side to head to the door. "Ye can stay here," he told her. "I’ll have the maids draw ye a bath an’ bring ye some clothes. I must speak tae me council."
"An’ where shall I sleep?" Valora inquired, standing as well. Surely, Torrin wouldn’t expect her to share a bed with him on the first night, when they were not even wedded yet!
"I’ll also have a room prepared fer ye," he promised. "It willnae take long."
With that, he was gone and Valora was left alone in his rooms. For the first time, she had the chance to look around and take in her surroundings—a large bed with four intricately carved posts that depicted natural motifs, an endless number of books, a sword hanging by the door. Though it didn’t seem to be in use, more decorative than anything, it gleamed in the light of the fire, reflecting the orange blaze.
The entire room, though holding few things, felt warm and cozy; personal. This was Torrin’s space, Valora realized—a space where few but him had been. Now, she was one of those few.
"Damn it!"
Valora didn’t know where the words had come from, and in her shock, she slapped a hand over her mouth to keep herself quiet. She looked around with wide eyes, waiting for someone to reprimand her, but of course, no one was there. With a groan, she sat back on that chair by the fire, burying her face in herhands, the panic and betrayal finally setting in, now that she was alone.
"Damn them all," she mumbled to herself, a couple of tears escaping her eyes before she could stop them. "Damn them an’ their plans an’ their clans an’ everythin’ they hold dear."
The only thing men like her father held dear, she knew, was wealth; wealth and power, the two things they didn’t seem to get enough of, no matter how much they had. Their whole lives, they strived for more at the expense of those around them, even if they were people they were supposed to love.
As long as Althea is safe… as long as she daesnae have tae sacrifice herself, I will endure this.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Torrin sat at the table, looking at the men in his council who had arranged themselves in a semi-circle around him. To Torrin, they resembled a shield, or perhaps a wall—something impenetrable, as unhearing as it was unfeeling.
The main job of the council was to do what was best for the clan, even if it meant they would clash with him. And he expected them to clash now that he had brought Valora there to marry her without consulting them first, without taking into consideration how his actions would affect the clan.
He had let his emotions cloud his reason, and now he would have to answer for it.
"There has been a… development," said Torrin, and from the corner of his eye, he could see the expression of disbelief Noah made in response—nothing more than a twitch of his eyebrows, but something Torrin caught regardless, even if no one else in the room did. He ignored his friend; this was not the time forhim to be anything but firm if he wanted the council to even consider his proposal.
"With Laird Keith?" one the men, Jamison Roy, asked and his voice was filled with so much excitement that Torrin hated the fact he would have to dampen it.
Jamison was a heavyset man, with a bristling beard under which hid a strong, square jaw. He had started to turn gray a long time ago. He was well in his fifties; the fact that he was still such a fearsome warrior had more to do with his stubbornness than his physical age.
War was what kept him young.
"In a way," said Torrin, and Jamison gave him a suspicious look, already realizing that something was wrong. "As ye all ken, I visited an auction tonight in order tae gather more information about Laird Keith. As expected, he was there."
Torrin took a deep breath before he continued.
"The auction was so wealthy men could purchase eligible young heirs from other clans," Torrin continued. "Laird Keith decided tae bid on Miss Valora MacNeacail."
"Keith married tae a MacNeacail heir!" said Jamison, slapping his thighs in exasperation. "That is certainly one way tae cause problems fer us!"
Everyone in the room knew of the importance such an alliance would have. Both Clan Gunn and Clan Keith were stronger than Clan MacNeacail in every way but one. The latter controlled the seas and could sway the result of the war between Clan Gunn and Clan Keith depending on which side they supported. In a way, Torrin supposed, he had done Clan Gunn a favor by bidding on Valora.
"Exactly!" said Torrin, grasping the opportunity to present his purchase of Valora’s hand as a good thing. "However, he failed tae win her hand."
