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CHAPTER NINE

W ith the maids arriving, Torrin headed to his study—the place in the entire castle where he spent most of his time those days, working on plans with Noah and the rest of his advisors.

In his efforts to make it a warm place, he had filled it with books piled high on every available surface, trinkets, things passed down to him through his father and his father before him—from decorative daggers with shining jewels on their handles and old, worn maps with crumpled corners, stained with age.

The study was a warm place, and the fire that perpetually burned in the fireplace only added to that effect, dousing the place in a warm glow.

With Valora in his chambers, the study was the only place where he could take a breath and relax.

He sat in the worn, leather armchair behind his mahogany desk, sinking into the soft seat with a sigh, his hand reaching for the whisky that was just on the edge of his desk.

He took a large swig, leaning into the feeling of the slight burn in his throat.

He needed just a moment to himself to truly realize what he had done.

In ten days, I might be a wedded man.

Nothing was certain yet, of course. Nothing was written in stone, not until Valora made up her mind that she wanted to marry him, and until then, he would be left wondering.

But just as he had discussed with the council, the alliance between him and her father would be so beneficial to the clan that he was willing to do plenty of things in order to ensure the wedding would happen.

It daesnae hurt that she’s a bonnie lass, either.

A knock on his door pulled him out of his thoughts and Torrin cursed quietly under his breath, expecting another councilman there, ready to share some grievance or some plan.

But when he called for his visitor to enter, it wasn’t a councilman—it was his cousin, Daisy, and Torrin sat a little straighter to welcome her in.

"Daisy!" he called, surprised by her presence. "Come in, come in. What are ye daein’ here?"

Daisy was a petite girl, short and delicate, but her eyes and her wit were sharp. She had her mother’s golden hair—his beloved aunt Isla’s, who was long since gone, taken too soon from those who loved her.

With a cheery smile, Daisy all but skipped her way to the desk, sitting across from Torrin. "Col left on a mission again so he sent me here. He didnae want me tae stay home."

Though Daisy was still cheerful as she spoke, Torrin’s expression darkened.

There was only one reason why Col, her brother, wouldn’t want Daisy to stay home, and that was their father.

Baldwin was not the kind of man any of them wanted around, but there had been only a handful of times before when Col, upon leaving home for a mission, had sent Daisy to Torrin instead of letting her stay home, and it had always been due to some conflict.

What happened this time? Is Baldwin gettin’ worse?

Torrin could only wish that wasn’t the case. Many had suffered under Baldwin, most of all his aunt, who had been forced to marry the man as a young girl and to bear him children. Then, there was Col and Daisy, his next victims, who had suffered under his tyranny ever since they were born.

"Well, ye’re welcome tae stay here fer as long as ye wish," Torrin assured her. It wasn’t unheard of for Col to disappear for months at a time when on a mission, and the last thing Torrin wanted was for Daisy to be trapped in her home with her father, especially when Col had entrusted her safety and well-being to him. "What happened this time?"

"Ach, it daesnae matter," said Daisy, waving a hand dismissively. Her tone was light still, but there was a strain to her words, as though something was choking her. Even so, her smile never wavered. "Tell me about ye. How have ye been? I couldnae sleep and I saw the fire burnin’ in here."

Daisy was looking for a distraction—and Torrin, after everything that had happened that day, was looking for someone to listen.

"Well, ye willnae believe this," he told her with a soft, humorless chuckle. "I was just on this mission… as ye ken, we’ve been after Laird Keith all this time an’ I found out he would be attendin’ an auction. But it wasnae just any auction."

Daisy’s eyes narrowed in suspicion as she looked at Torrin. "What kind o’ auction was it, then?"

"They were sellin’ the hands o’ young, eligible ladies," Torrin said after contemplating for a moment if she should know or not.

But then again, she was an intelligent woman and she knew of how men treated women.

"Some fathers, lookin’ fer gold, brought their daughters there fer noble men like Laird Keith tae have their pick. "

The horror in Daisy’s face was one Torrin had felt himself when he had first heard of this auction. No one in their right mind would participate in something like thats, he had thought, but then again, he couldn’t claim those men were in their right minds in the first place.

"Please tell me ye’re jestin’," said Daisy, her hand coming up to cover her mouth in shock. " An’… an’ those poor lasses, they cannae dae anythin’ about it?"

"They dinnae really have a word in it," Torrin said. "Only their fathers an’ the men dae. Ye’d be surprised, the things men like Laird Keith dae fer gain or even simply fer entertainment."

Daisy shook her head in disbelief. "Who would place a bid on a lass like that?"

Torrin froze. It was a momentary response, but one Daisy knew well, as she had seen it before, every other time he was caught doing something he shouldn’t have, especially as a child.

It was as though he were a child now again, paralyzed by the prospect of someone finding out he had done something wrong.

She narrowed her eyes at him, suspicion returning to her gaze. "Dinnae tell me?—"

"I had nay choice!" he cried, throwing his hands in the air, before Daisy could say anything else. She startled at his sudden outburst, but he continued his explanation before she could judge him for it. "Laird Keith was biddin’ fer her hand an’ he would have gotten it had I nae stopped him. I had tae dae somethin’, Daisy.

He had already acted inappropriately with her on the dance floor.

I couldnae let him have her. Can ye imagine what would happen tae her if she married him?

Can ye imagine the life she would have by that man’s side? "

Daisy said nothing for a few moments, but she nodded in understanding.

She seemed to consider it for a few moments, tapping her long, slender fingers against the armrest of her chair.

She leaned back, regarding Torrin with her sharp eyes —the same storm gray as his, inherited by their shared grandmother.

"I understand why ye did it, Torrin. I dae," she assured him. "I just dinnae ken if it’s the right thing tae have done."

"I dinnae ken that either," Torrin admitted. "I’ve been wonderin’ if I’ve done the right thing. But I keep thinkin’ it was, both fer her an’ fer me… fer the clan. Her faither has power over the northern seas. With his ships an’ our men we could defeat Laird Keith once an’ fer all."

"But is that what she wants?" Daisy asked. "Because ye may want it but that’s nae enough, Torrin."

"I gave her ten days," Torrin said. "Ten days tae decide if she wishes tae be me wife or nae. It’s her choice an’ I’ll respect whatever she decides in the end."

Immediately, Daisy smiled at him, and her smile was enough to put him at ease. She had this effect on people.

"Very good, cousin," said Daisy, clearly pleased with him. "I kent ye would dae the right thing."

"Dae ye think this is the right thing?" Torrin asked. He was still uncertain of himself, still uncertain of the choice he had made. It was true that she would have suffered her entire life by Laird Keith’s side. But the fact that he had purchased her didn’t make him that much better.

"I think ye did the right thing considerin’ the circumstances," said Daisy with a small shrug. "An’ I think ye’re still daein’ the right thing by lettin’ her choose."

Torrin nodded softly, considering Daisy’s words. He took a sip of whisky, relishing in the burn of it as it slid down his throat.

"I will keep her company," Daisy said then, slamming her hands on the armrest with decisiveness. "I willnae tell her anythin’ about the auction, o’ course. She daesnae ken, daes she?"

Torrin shook his head. "Nay, she daesnae. Nae one o’ the lasses kent."

Nodding, Daisy said, "Then I shan’t say anythin’ on the matter. It is best she doesnae ken, dinnae ye think?"

"Aye," said Torrin. "Better fer her tae think it was… it was simply a regular decision regardin’ an alliance between our clans."

"So… ten days," said Daisy. "An’ then maybe ye’ll be a married man."

Torrin chuckled humorlessly, shaking his head. "I dinnae even wish tae think about it."

"Ach, Torrin, ye’re thirty-two years o’ age!" said Daisy, laughing softly. "Dinnae tell me ye’re afraid o’ bein’ wedded!"

"I’m nae afraid, Daisy," said Torrin with a roll of his eyes. "But ye must admit it isnae somethin’ I’ve done afore."

Daisy laughed, opening her hands wide as if to say Torrin had a point. "Let us hope this will be the first an’ last time ye dae it."

Despite his bad mood, Torrin couldn’t help but laugh as well. "If it happens," he pointed out.

"Well, I will see what she thinks when I speak with her," said Daisy.

"As temptin’ as that is, I prefer nae tae ken," said Torrin. "I think it’s best tae let her think about it without any outside influences."

"If ye so wish," said Daisy as she stood from the chair. "If ye need me, ye ken where ye’ll find me."

With that, she left the room, leaving Torrin alone with his thoughts and his glass of whisky. He tossed the rest of it back in a large swig before refilling it; he would need all the liquid courage he could get that night if he was to get through it.

What bothered him the most was the unknown—the fact that he would most likely not have an answer from Valora before the ten days had passed and there would always be that question mark at the back of his mind, that desire to know that would bother him until he did.

But he didn’t want to rush her into making the wrong choice.

But what is the wrong choice here? What is better fer her tae choose?

A life with him, a man who would treat her with respect but whom she may never love, or returning back to her home, where her future was so uncertain?