Page 8 of Ruining a Highland Healer
He could only imagine the kind of life she would have had by his side. And no matter how much he had promised himself he wouldn’t get involved before arriving at the auction, when he saw the lass and Laird Keith together, he couldn’t stop himself from intervening.
How many other girls will have the fate she escaped? How many other girls have been sold tae the highest bidder an’ will now be taken away, never tae be seen again?
"O’ course," said Laird MacNeacail. "Well, since our business here is concluded, I shall go ahead an’ sort everythin’ fer ye."
True to his word, Laird MacNeacail went ahead and soon, Torrin was blessedly left alone with Noah. The moment Laird MacNeacail was far enough to not be able to eavesdrop, his friend and most trusted advisor turned to him, his eyes narrowing and his hands jumping up in the air.
"What have ye done!"
Torrin let out the groan he had been keeping back all this time, his hand coming up to rub his face wearily. "The last thing I need is ye tellin’ me just how badly I mishandled the situation."
"Well, that’s exactly what I’ll tell ye," said Noah, running a hand through his short, sandy blond hair. Torrin could see the effort it took him not to tug furiously at the strands. "I thought we were supposed tae be here tae observe, nae fer ye tae find a wife!"
"That was the plan, aye," said Torrin.
"Then why are we leavin’ with a bride?"
"It was wrong o’ me," he admitted firmly. "An’ I did it without even consultin’ ye. But ye saw what Laird Keith did tae that lass. I couldnae let him have her."
"So ye bid all that gold on her?" Noah asked. He didn’t sound reassured at all by Torrin’s explanation.
"We can afford it."
"Aye, we certainly can," Noah said. "Or we could buy some grain with all that gold. Some horses. Some sheep! Nae a lass!"
"What would ye have me dae?" Torrin asked in frustration. He knew what he had done was far from wise, but he couldn’t bear to watch a young woman face such a fate. He could never live with himself if he allowed Laird Keith to have her. "I understand yer concern. I am concerned as well. I didnae think it through, it’s true. But what is done is done."
Noah shook his head, but said nothing more. With a sigh, Torrin continued down the hallway and soon, Noah followed him, jogging to catch up.
"How terrible tae be auctioned off tae the highest bidder," he said. "Poor lasses, they never stood a chance."
"Nay, they didnae," said Torrin. Never once had those women been asked what they wanted, and Valora had made it clear to him that she, at least, was anything but happy about that. And though she hadn’t fallen into Laird Keith’s claws, she had still been sold off to Torrin in exchange for gold.
This hadn’t been the kind of ball where heirs of noble families searched for their mate, courting each other. No, this had been a market, where men like Laird Keith, who would be unlikely to secure a wife otherwise, paid to have what they wanted.
Men with too much gold, men with too much power. Torrin was no different from them, in the sense that he, too, was a powerful man. And yet, he refused to be dragged into their games; he refused to be like them, using people like pawns or like property.
"It was good tae see the bastard Alban Keith panic, though," said Noah after a few moments of silence, his chuckle loud and pleased. "Did ye see his face when he realized ye had won?"
Torrin had not; he hadn’t been looking at the man at all, since he feared the moment they would lock eyes, he wouldn’t be able to fight the urge to punch him.
Just as Torrin and Noah neared the main doors, a scream echoed in the air. It was a woman’s scream, frightened and desperate, and Torrin immediately drew his sword, all but kicking the doors to spill out into the courtyard. Behind him, Noah followed closely, ready to act as his backup.
It took a few moments for Torrin’s eyes to adjust to the darkness outside, but then he saw two men trying to drag none other than Valora away. She was kicking and screaming, acting like a rabid animal as the two men tried to hold her still and pull her away, and Torrin couldn’t help but be impressed by her efforts, even as she failed to produce any results.
She was a small woman, being held by two very large men—she had no hope of ever escaping on her own.
His feet stomping on the ground as he ran, Torrin rushed to Valora and the two men. As he got closer to them, he realizedthey were wearing Laird Keith’s colors and rage built up inside him, threatening to bubble over.
How dare he send his men tae take her! Scoundrel! I should have killed him where he stood!
The world would have been a better place for it. A man like Laird Keith didn’t deserve to live and breathe, and Torrin was determined to do anything in his power to ensure he wouldn’t live and breathe for long.
"Unhand her!" Torrin shouted to be heard over the commotion. The men, though, seemed to have no desire to listen to him, and so he threw himself at them, forcing them to split. One of them dragged Valora farther away as the other drew his sword, his blade clashing against Torrin’s with a clang that pierced through the silence of the night. With a roar, Torrin attacked again with a swing of his sword in an arc, bringing his blade down. The other man parried the blow, but Torrin was quick to attack again, and this time, he didn’t miss.
His blade pierced through the man’s stomach, from one end to the other. Blood spouted from the wound, drenching them both, along with the ground beneath their feet. Near him, Valora let out a sharp scream at the sight, but quickly silenced herself, swallowing it down, and Torrin wished she didn’t have to see any of this, but he had no other choice.
He had to kill the other man, too, but just as he was about to attack, more men came out of the shadows—three more, all of them armed to the teeth.
