Page 34 of Ruining a Highland Healer
"I feel like I could be daein’ somethin’ tae help," Valora admitted. "If I told Laird Gunn… if I gave him an answer, everythin’ would be resolved."
"Ye mean if ye gave him an affirmative answer," Daisy pointed out.
"Aye, I suppose so," she said.
"Is that what ye want?"
Valora didn’t know the answer to that question. Marrying Torrin was much more preferable over marrying Laird Keith, but she hardly knew the man. She couldn’t have possibly made a decision in the short time she had known him, and yet she felt like she had to, if only to put an end to the conflict.
When she didn’t respond, Daisy gave her a small, kind smile as she reached for her hand over the table. Valora allowed her to take it and give her a gentle squeeze, forcing herself to smile back, even if the gesture was small.
"This isnae yer battle," Daisy told her. "An’ it isnae a battle that started with ye. Me cousin an’ Laird Keith had been enemies fer many years. This would have happened sooner or later, even if Torrin had never met ye. They were always headin’ towards war, there have even been times when they narrowly avoided it, so dinnae blame yerself, Valora. But I dae think… ye’re good fer him. Fer Torrin."
Valora didn’t know if she necessarily agreed with that assessment. But Daisy knew him better than Valora did, naturally, and if she claimed so, then perhaps it was true.
But what daes that mean about me? About him? About us?
In the previous two days, she had warmed up to him. Seeing him with his people, helping them, joking with them, had given her an insight that she had lacked, and now the thought of something happening to him unsettled her. She recognized that she didn’t only fear for herself. She feared for him, too, for his safety alongside with her own.
Perhaps sensing that this conversation was weighing on Valora’s mind, Daisy’s smile brightened and she sat up a little straighter, though she never let go of her hand.
"Enough about this," she said decisively, taking the choice from Valora’s hands, much to her relief. "Tell me about ye. Tell me how ye’re findin’ the castle, the village … an’ Arrow! How did ye find him? He’s such a sweet dog."
Just the shift in the topic of the conversation was enough to lift some of the weight off Valora’s shoulders. She leaned back on her seat, her shoulders deflating, some cheer returning to her as she thought about Arrow.
She had half a mind to ask Torrin if he could sleep with them in the room, but she already knew he would refuse. Still, that wouldn’t stop her from smuggling him in sometimes, just to spend some more time with him.
Valora told Daisy everything about the previous couple of days—her impressions of the castle, of the village and its people, her newfound love for Arrow. And the more she spoke, the more she found that she was feeling lighter, her burdens seeming smaller t.
It was Daisy, she realized—she had a calming effect on her, one that Valora couldn’t disregard as coincidence.
And by the time she left for the night, Valora found that she was tired; truly tired to her bones, with none of her previous nervous energy keeping her up.
Torrin had not yet returned, though. She had no idea what it was that he could be doing, but she kept repeating to herself thatif something was wrong, the entire castle would be up in arms, trying to defend him.
He is simply busy, o’ course. What else can it be?
After Laird Keith had sent his men to his home like that, it was only natural that he would be busy. Plans would need to be made, strategies would need to be discussed. Sooner or later, he would return to the room, safe and sound.
Valora didn’t wait for him. Instead, she crawled into bed and closed her eyes, hoping that her night, at least, would be restful. Perhaps if she managed to get some rest, she would also get some much-needed clarity.
The fire crackled in the hearth, its orange glow bathing everything in the room in a soft light. Under any other circumstances, Torrin would have loved a night like this, sitting in the quiet of his study with Noah over a dram and simply talking.
But they were not simply talking now. There was much to be discussed after the Keith men’s visit and the meeting they had had with his council.
"I cannae help but think this is only a ploy," said Torrin. "I dinnae ken what kind. I dinnae ken what Laird Keith may be plannin’, but I dinnae think he’s so foolish as tae think that Iwould ever agree tae such a deal. So why would he propose it in the first place?"
Noah sat across from him, shaking his head over the rim of his glass before he took a sip. "I dinnae ken," he admitted. It was rare for Noah to not even have an idea or a suspicion. "I have nay idea what he may be plannin’. This is unlike anythin’ we have encountered afore, Torrin, an’ I dinnae think it is wise tae approach it as any other conflict."
"How, then?"
Noah gave a small shrug. "I truly dinnae ken. But I will consider it."
There were few people as loyal as Noah and Torrin’s own cousin, Col.
"What about Miss MacNeacail?" Noah asked after a few beats, and though he tried to pass off the question as casual, Torrin could hear the true meaning of the words behind his tone.
He wanted to ask if there was something serious there—something more serious than it appeared to be.
