Page 58 of Ruining a Highland Healer
Noah glanced at Valora with a small, knowing smile, one that made her blush to the tips of her ears. She had hoped Torrin would be alone. Now that Noah was there and knew precisely why Valora had come to the study, she couldn’t help but be overcome with embarrassment, and that smile he gave her only served to worsen it,
Torrin leaned forward, arms resting on the desk. “Fergive me fer keepin’ ye waitin’. We’ve been tryin’ tae keep everyone happy but in times o’ war, there’s only this much we can dae.”
The weight of the war weighed heavily on Torrin’s shoulders. Valora could see it in the way he held himself, stiff and tense, his shoulders up to his ears and his brow permanently furrowed.He looked as though he had not seen peace in a long time, as though whatever tentative peace the clan had experienced in the previous years was so fragile, so brittle that it may as well have been a time of war.
Valora smiled faintly, hoping the small gesture would give Torrin some comfort. “I understand. A laird’s work is never done.”
Standing from her seat, Valora made to join Torrin at the desk, where he was pouring them both a cup of wine.
How is it that me feelings fer him have blossomed so in such a short time?
Valora could hardly understand it, but that didn’t make her them any less real. She had tried to deconstruct her feelings and the reasons behind them, but at the end of the day, what truly mattered was that she desired him, body and soul.
But as she made to sit across from him, in one of the two plush leather armchairs dedicated to the guests, her eye caught a loose parchment among the others. Valora paused. Her name was written at the very top—Lady Valora MacNeacail.
Frowning in confusion, she reached for it.
“Wait—” Torrin said quickly, but she was already holding it in her hands. Her gaze skimmed the page, understanding dawning on her slowly the more she read. The note was written in a firmhand and formal tone, the script elegant and the signatures upon it terribly familiar; but the meaning struck her like a slap to the face, stopping her dead in her tracks.
It was a record of agreement, a purchase ledger with her name on it—her name, followed by a price and the names of bidders, among whom Torrin was mentioned as the highest.
The room narrowed, her vision going dark at the edges. Her ears rang and the walls seemed to spin, and Valora had to grip onto the edge of the desk to keep herself from swaying. Nausea gripped her, reality crashing down on her bit by bit until the weight of it was unbearable—until she could do nothing but stand there in shock, staring at Torrin with her jaw clenched, gritting her teeth to stop the tears from falling.
Across from her, Torrin stood still, just as shocked by her discovery as she was. His face was pale under the soft sunlight. His hand trembled almost imperceptibly. Valora could hardly stand to look at him, but she couldn’t bring herself to leave; not without getting some answers first.
“What is this?”
Her voice was too quiet, too calm. She didn’t want to show any weakness, but she didn’t know how to hide her horror, her absolute shock written plainly on her face.
Torrin hesitated. He swallowed with an audible click and then rounded the desk slowly, approaching Valora. She didn’t want to be anywhere near him, not if she could help it. She took severalsteps back, the piece of paper clutched tightly in her hand as the distance between them grew.
“Valora…”
Her heart pounded like a war drum. With every passing moment, the fact that she had been sold like cattle to Torrin sank deeper and deeper into her mind. The thought speared through her, an ache spreading in her chest. The betrayal was like a physical blow, so strong that she couldn’t help but think it was capable of killing her.
“What is this, Torrin?”
She wanted him to say it. She wanted him to admit it to her face, to tell her the truth.
Torrin drew in a deep, shaky breath. He stopped trying to approach her, but his hand made an aborted move to reach for her before falling once again by his side.
“It… it is precisely what ye think it is,” he admitted.
“I was… auctioned?” Valora asked, her voice cracking. She tried so hard to keep herself calm, to show nothing of the pain she felt, but it seeped through the cracks, showing itself despite her best efforts. “Sold off like cattle?”
Torrin said nothing. What could he say to this, when it was so clearly the truth? He could not deny it, but he could not bringhimself to say it out loud either. It didn’t surprise Valora; what was there for him to say to justify what he had done?
“Yeboughtme like cattle. Ye bought me like I’m naethin’ but an item,” Valora said, her voice strained and tight. “Like I have nae life o’ me own, like I can just belong tae ye an’—”
“Nay,” Torrin said firmly, interrupting her. “Valora, it wasnae like that.”
It was the last thing Valora wanted to hear. There was nothing Torrin could tell her—no excuse, no valid reason for what he had done. While still making her feel somewhat disrespected, marrying someone for alliance was understandable. But being sold? Like she was not a human being?
“Then tell me how it was,” she demanded, her hands coming to rest on her hips as she stared him down, her lips pressed into a thin, disapproving line. “Because from where I stand, I see coin, signatures, bargains. An’ none involved me consent.”
Torrin had the decency to look away, refusing to meet her gaze. But his shame wasn’t enough; she didn’t think anything could be enough, but she still wanted to hear what he had to say.
“I saw that Laird Keith was biddin’ fer yer hand,” he said. “He wanted ye, Valora, an’ he tried very hard tae have ye. Had it nae been fer me, ye would be wedded tae him now.”
