Page 65 of Ruining a Highland Healer
She nodded once. When she spoke, her voice was a quiet promise. “I will.”
Torrin reached for her hand and drew her gently to his chest. And for a while, there were no more words—only the sound of the fire and the soft pattering of the rain beyond the stone walls, and the quiet, steady beat of two hearts in the space between.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
The night was heavy with silence, the kind that settled over the land like a shroud. The night chill seeped into the stone walls of the castle and the dying fire valiantly fought its last battle against it. Valora lay still beneath the woolen covers, eyes wide open, heart too full for sleep. The room around her breathed with the hush of slumber, but she could not match it tonight.
The wind stirred faintly at the edges of the shutters, as if calling her. Valora slipped from the bed; there was no point trying to sleep when her mind was racing like this. Her bare feet touched the cold floor with a small flinch, and she gathered her shawl around her shoulders.
Stone gave way to trimmed grass as she passed through a narrow side door near the kitchens and into the open. The wind caught her hair, tugging a few strands loose, and the stars overhead blinked into clarity. She stood at the northern edge of the courtyard, where only a few yards from her the walls gave wayto the wilderness that surrounded the castle, and let her gaze lift skyward.
The stars had always made her feel small, but in a comforting way. The stretch of sky above her was more than her mind could comprehend—an endless veil, one that seemed to go on forever, all the way back home, where Althea was looking at the very same stars.
She didn’t know how long she spent there in silence, all alone, staring at the night sky. Soon, the chill began to seep into her bones through her shawl, but she hardly noticed. Her thoughts were with Althea, with Torrin, thinking about the wedding that was to come and the threat that loomed over them all.
For a long while, she stayed there, plunged in the silence of the night. Eventually, though, a door creaked behind her and heavy footsteps approached, swift and purposeful. She turned slightly, already knowing who was there.
Torrin.
He crossed the ground quickly, his face shadowed with worry. He wore only his trews and his linen shirt, hastily tugged on, and in one hand, he carried a thick wool blanket.
“I woke an’ ye were gone,” he said softly, breath puffing in the chill. “Me heart near stopped.”
“Dinnae fash,” she told him softly, giving him a small smile as he moved close and draped the blanket over her shoulders. “I’m fine.”
“What are ye daein’ out here?” Torrin asked, concern still coloring his tone even though Valora had reassured him she was alright. “It’s freezin’. Ye’ll catch yer death.”
Valora shrugged a shoulder. “I couldnae sleep. I thought I’d come out here an’ look at the stars.”
Torrin sighed, a low, long sound. The silence between them stretched.
“Come,” he said finally, voice lower now, meant only for her. “I ken a place.”
Taking her hand, Torrin began to drag Valora down an overgrown path that led to the west side of the keep. She followed quietly, leaves and grass and pebbles crunching under their soles as they walked side by side through the sleeping keep, past the old smithy and training yard, toward the barracks. The roof there was flat, laid with stone and set apart from the main keep. When they reached the far end of the squat building, Torrin paused in front of a narrow staircase that seemed as safe as a knife’s edge.
“Surely, ye dinnae expect me tae go up there.”
“I’ve got ye,” Torrin promised her, but Valora was not entirely convinced. She looked at the steps with mistrust, eyes narrowing as she tried to gauge whether or not this would be her last night on earth.
“I promise ye,” Torrin continued. “Dae ye think I would ever let anythin’ happen tae ye?”
There was no one in the world Valora trusted more than Torrin. If he promised her that she would be safe, then she believed him.
Taking his hand once more, Valora let Torrin lead her up the rickety stairs to the roof of the barracks. His other hand laid gently over the small of her back, steadying her, giving her the boost she needed to get to the top. Then, once she was safely on the roof, he pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her waist as he pressed against her back.
Up here, the world opened.
The sea was a distant hush, steady and endless. The land rolled out in darkened folds, hills cloaked in night, leaves whispering in the wind. The darkness only served to make every other sensation that much stronger, heightening her senses.
Torrin pulled her to the edge of the roof, sitting there with his legs dangling over. Valora sat next to him with the blanket clutched close, knees drawn up, strands of hair dancing wild about her face.
“It’s so bonnie up here,” she said at last, her voice barely a whisper above the wind.
“Aye,” he agreed.
She turned toward him then, her expression softer, tired in a way that spoke not of sleep, but of longing. “I wish Althea could see it. I wish she could be here fer our weddin’.”
Torrin didn’t hesitate. “Then I’ll send fer her.”
