Page 4 of Ruining a Highland Healer
Valora barely managed to stifle a smile, but others around her were not as restrained. Not many had heard the man, but those who had were amused, which only served to turn Laird Keith’s face an even deeper shade of red.
When Laird Keith made no attempt to move, the other man added, "Perhaps ye could have a seat an’ a drink fer a moment. It’s only one dance. I promise."
Valora didn’t know if it was the man’s words or the look he gave Laird Keith that made him retreat, but he did so slowly, with a sharp nod. Only when he was gone, disappearing into the crowd, did the other man finally turn around, and Valora saw his face.
Immediately, she was taken aback.
He’s so handsome… like a paintin’.
His storm-gray eyes seemed to see right through her and for a moment, Valora had the irrational feeling that he already knew her intimately. Over those eyes, a pair of straight, dark brows rested on a high, regal forehead. His sharp jaw, covered in a thick, short stubble, made him look as though carved from marble.
And when he placed his hand on her back, between her shoulder blades, the shiver that ran through her was not one of revulsion, but rather one of desire.
CHAPTER TWO
The music swelled around them as the man pulled Valora into the sea of swaying bodies. The cornett, the lute, the flute—all instruments working together to create a fast reel that had the guests dancing joyously in a dizzying whirl of color. Her partner held her firmly as he led her through the steps, but his grip never became insistent or possessive, like Laird Keith’s had been. Valora’s hand rested on his chest, the pads of her fingers feeling the muscles under the layers of formal clothing. The man was solid as stone, but warm, radiating heat like the sun, and Valora found herself swept into the moment, forgetting where she was.
It didn’t last long. Even that wasn’t enough to make her forget the reality of that night—the fact that she and every other woman in the room were there to be used as bargaining chips.
How can someone like him be here? Is he truly nae different from everyone else?
The man was handsome, more so than any other man Valora had ever encountered, but that didn’t necessarily mean he was a good man. His external appearance could have no correlation with his inner world, for all Valora knew. He also didn’t smell like alcohol and his body wasn’t heavy with drink as Laird Keith’s had been, but it was still early in the night. There was plenty of time for him to get drunk, and Valora couldn’t say for certain that he wouldn’t.
Even as she glanced up at him, trying to find some clue regarding his thoughts, they proved to be well-guarded. His gaze betrayed nothing. His expression was blank, giving her no hints. He moved with purpose and practiced ease, guiding her confidently around the dance floor, but other than that, she couldn’t decipher anything about him.
What is a man like him daeing in a place like this?
Just as there was only one reason for the young women to be there, there was only one reason for the bachelors to be there; he, too, had to be in search of a wife. The mere thought was enough to leave Valora with a bad taste in the back of her throat, but despite everything, she felt safer in this stranger’s arms than she had felt all night alone.
What is the matter with me? Why would I trust this man at all?
She had several reasons to be attracted to him, from his striking eyes to his broad shoulders and solid chest, but physical attraction meant nothing without proof that he was a good man.She didn’t know him at all, and so she hated the part of her that was so easily comforted by his presence.
"Dae ye often slap yer dancin’ partners?" the man asked her. Now that he spoke in a low voice, his tone had a gravelly quality about it, a roughness that sent a chill through her as though she was at the mercy of a chilly breeze.
"Only if they’re bein’ inappropriate," Valora said.
His handsome looks threatened to make her forget that he, too, was there to find a wife for a good alliance, and he had every choice he could ever want, while the women had none. It was a vile place, that ball, filled with men who felt entitled to the women around them, and this man couldn’t possibly be any different if he was among them.
"Then I shall have nay fear," the man said confidently. True to his word, he kept his hand high up on Valora’s back, far away from her rear, much to her relief.
"How can I be certain o’ that?" she asked, unable to help it. She didn’t trust him; she didn’t trust anyone in that room. "Perhaps ye’re only sayin’ this so I will be fooled."
"Why would I need tae fool ye?" the man asked her, his brows knitting into a frown. "Dae ye think everyone is tryin’ tae fool ye?"
"Nae everyone," Valora was quick to say. "Only the men in this room."
Looking around them, the man hummed as if in acknowledgment, nodding slowly. When his gaze found Valora’s once more, there was a slight softness there that she hadn’t noticed before.
"All o’ them?" the man asked. "Surely, some must be decent men."
"Are ye talkin’ about yerself?"
"Perhaps."
Valora couldn’t help it; with the way the man spoke, it was as though he was purposefully trying to make her admit she didn’t trust him, and she was not going to hold back.
"I dinnae think ye’re any better than the others," she said, just as the man twirled her and pulled her close once more. Her breath caught in her throat for a moment as their bodies met once again, and she had to swallow in order to be able to speak once more. Still, she didn’t waver, nor did her assessment change. "Ye’re here fer the same thing everyone else has come for; tae choose a wife, when the wife has nay say in the matter. Have ye considered that some o’ us dinnae wish tae wed? Has anyone?"
