Page 15

CHAPTER ELEVEN

T orrin woke up thirty years older. Or at least that was how he felt as he stood after a night on the floor.

In his youth, he had spent endless nights camping for missions, and even now, whenever an inn wasn’t available, he would spend the night on the forest floor.

But he had gotten used to the luxuries of the castle and the inns, his body expecting the comforts of a good bed.

The previous night had left him sore and stiff, and he decided there was no better way to get back to Valora for making him sleep on the floor than to wake her up with a ruckus.

With a yawn and a languid stretch, Torrin pushed himself off the floor—albeit with some difficulty.

In the dim light of the morning, that first blue light that streamed in through the windows, he could see Valora’s shape under the covers on the bed, her chest rising and falling softly with every deep breath that she took.

Throughout the night, he had heard her toss and turn a few times, but he had refrained from waking her.

Not only did he not know whether or not he should disturb her, but he also didn’t dare approach her in the middle of the night, lest she thought he was trying anything less than chivalrous with her.

But now, he had no reason to stay so far away from her. Tiptoeing all the way to the bed, Torrin leaned over Valora, a sly smile spreading over his lips.

"Good mornin’!" he called softly, right over her ear. "Time tae get up, we have much tae dae!"

Despite his low tone, Valora woke with a start, almost bolting out of the bed with a cry of panic.

She clutched the covers to her chest like a shield, looking at Torrin with wide, terrified eyes from the far corner of the bed.

For a few moments, she didn’t seem to know where she was, but after a few breaths, her look of terror shifted into one of hatred mixed with disbelief.

"What dae ye think ye’re daein’?" she demanded, even as Torrin, unable to help himself, laughed. "Why would ye wake anyone like this, leaning over them? What is the matter with ye?"

"Well, ye’re nae the easiest lass with whom tae share a room," Torrin pointed out, as though that excused his behavior. He knew, of course, how irritating his wake-up call had been, but that didn’t stop him from being entirely too pleased with himself.

"An’ I wasnae lyin’. We dae have plenty tae dae today. "

"What could there possibly be fer me tae dae here?" Valora asked as she rubbed the sleep from her eyes. "I dinnae ken anyone. I have nay duties. Ye could have let me sleep."

"Ye think the Lady o’ the Clan daesnae have any duties?" Torrin asked with a small, confused frown, one that Valora soon mirrored.

"I’m nae the Lady o’ the Clan," she reminded him.

"Fer the next nine days an’ today, ye are," Torrin said. "I told ye, we must act as though we are wedded fer ye tae see if ye would like tae proceed with this."

"Could ye nae court me like a regular man?" Valora said as she fell back onto the mattress with a groan, her eyes slipping shut once more. Torrin, though, would not let her sleep; not because he was cruel, but because he wanted her to meet his people—the people who might soon be her people, too.

"Why would I dae that when I can dae this instead?" Torrin asked with a small shrug. "Come now, get up. It’s time fer ye tae meet yer people."

"Me people?" asked Valora as she opened a single eye to look at him—or rather glare at him, Torrin supposed, since she looked entirely too unhappy by his presence.

"Aye," said Torrin. "We’re goin’ tae the village."

For a moment, Valora said nothing, but then she gave him a look from head to toe—one that told Torrin she had only just realized he had come to wake her shirtless, not bothering to put on any of his clothes.

Immediately, her cheeks flushed a deep red and she averted her gaze quickly.

Torrin couldn’t help but chuckle at her reaction.

He couldn’t say he had been shirtless in front of a noble maiden before, and he was more used to women who didn’t have the same moral compass as women like Valora, so to him, her embarrassment was as amusing as it was endearing.

"Will ye put on a shirt, please?" Valora asked through gritted teeth. "I dinnae think yer appearance is particularly decent."

"There is naethin’ wrong about a wife seein’ her husband without a shirt," Torrin teased and any bit of embarrassment he had ignited in Valora instantly turned into fury as she grabbed a pillow from the bed and threw it right in his face.

Even with his reflexes, he had no time to catch it, considering how close they were sitting, and the pillow hit him smack in the face, pushing him back a little.

"Enough with this charade," Valora said. Now she had the guts to face him, her face still red, but this time from anger instead of shyness. "I agreed tae give ye ten days, but I’m nae yer wife yet. Ye will treat me appropriately."

Ach, I supposed I teased the lass too much.

"Fergive me," said Torrin, raising his hands up in surrender. "I will wear a shirt. I promise."

As he spoke, he rounded the bed and made his way to the chest of drawers by the door, grabbing a new shirt and pulling it on. Only once he was once again more or less decent did he turn back to Valora, gesturing vaguely at his torso.

"Well?" he asked. "Is that good enough fer ye?"

"It’s somethin’," said Valora. "Now ye shall leave me so I can also dress."

"Ye’re already dressed," Torrin pointed out.

"Well, I can hardly wear the same thing when I’ve been sleepin’ in it all night!"

With a roll of his eyes, Torrin walked to the door and left the room, closing the door firmly behind him.

Perhaps it had been a mistake to make her sleep in his own chambers. When he had requested it, he had not expected her to completely take over the room—even his bed.

He waited patiently for Valora to finish dressing—or perhaps patiently was an overstatement when he was tapping his foot against the floor, constantly wondering when the door would open.

But when the door did finally open, Valora peeked through it, only her head visible.

She mumbled something Torrin couldn’t catch, and he leaned a little closer, only for her to withdraw abruptly.

"What was that, lass?" he asked. "I didnae hear ye."

"I said… could ye help me with this?"

Torrin frowned, but then Valora took a step back, revealing the state of her dress—or undress.

Though she had every item of clothing she was supposed to be wearing was on, most of it was askew and much of it remained unfastened.

Torrin had to stifle a laugh, not for the first time that day, and they had only woken up.

"Dinnae laugh!" Valora said, since Torrin couldn’t quite control his expression. "It’s a difficult task! I’m nae used tae daein’ it alone."

"I’m sure it’s very difficult," said Torrin drily. Still, he had to admit the strange fastenings of women’s dresses were complicated for him, and he was mostly used to taking them off, not putting them on.

"Will ye help me or will ye mock me?" Valora asked, and with a sigh, Torrin pushed his way into the room, closing the door behind him once more.

"Is this ye askin’ me tae touch ye?" Torrin asked, raising a curious eyebrow.

"Nay!" Valora was quick to say, shaking her head vehemently. "O’ course nay! Ye may nae touch me."

"An’ how will I help ye dress?"

"Ye may touch me clothes."

Torrin looked at her in silence for a moment, taking in the fresh blush on her cheeks. For such a stubborn, contrarian, and fierce woman, she certainly blushed a lot.

Humoring her, Torrin fixed her sleeves, straightening them out, and then did the same to her petticoat, tugging it firmly into place. The entire time, he made sure to touch nothing but the garments, his fingers picking up the fabric delicately and his hands staying firmly away from Valora’s body.

He must have looked as ridiculous as he felt doing it, but what other choice did he have? Valora had made it perfectly clear she didn’t welcome his touch—not even for something as simple as this.

Once he had straightened out her clothes, there was one thing left to do—tighten the laces, which would surely prove to be the most challenging part. Grasping each side tightly in his hands, Torrin pulled, hard enough for Valora to rush tumbling into him, her back colliding with his chest.

Though their bodies touched for a mere instant, a brief moment that was gone as quickly as it had come, the sudden and shockingly intimate contact left him breathless. It was nothing but a fleeting touch, but it had more impact on him than any other experience he had ever had with a woman.

"Be careful!" Valora cried, quickly putting distance between them once more, and just like that, the spell was broken. "Have ye never done this afore?"

"Nay," said Torrin. "Why would I? I usually take lasses out o’ their clothes."

Though Torrin couldn’t see Valora’s face, he could see the back of her neck and the tips of her ears. Her embarrassment was so great, it seemed, that the blush reached all the way there, turning her skin an almost glowing red.

"Well, dinnae get any ideas," Valora grumbled. "Just… just tie them quickly."

"Any other orders ye have fer me, me lady?" asked Torrin sarcastically, not waiting for her response before he grasped the laces again and pulled. This time, Valora just had enough of a warning to brace herself, planting her feet to keep herself steady.

Soon, Torrin managed to tie up all the laces, fiddly and slippery as they were. By the time he was done, he was almost breaking in a sweat, and he despised the little strings.

"Well then, I’ll leave ye tae dress," Valora said instead of thanking him. Without giving him another look, she slipped out of the room, disappearing into the hallway.

But just before she left, no matter how much she tried to hide it, Torrin caught a glimpse of her heated cheeks and the way she was biting on her bottom lip in embarrassment—and perhaps, if he was lucky enough, in arousal.

Torrin chuckled to himself as he finished preparing for the day, washing his face in the washbasin and putting on trews suitable for riding.

He still didn’t know if he was doing the right thing.

He still didn’t know whether or not it would have been better for him to have done nothing when Laird Keith had made a bid for Valora, but there was no point dwelling on what could have been.

He had done what he had thought was right at the moment, driven by a sudden urge to protect an innocent girl.

But his decisions had brought him to this strange situation—living with a woman who was a stranger.

If nothing else, Torrin thought, it made for an amusing story. Valora was like a breath of fresh air in his life, a distraction from the daily routine of strategy and war. He simply didn’t know if he could afford such a distraction.

Once he was done getting ready, tying his dark hair at the back of his neck as he liked to do, he opened the door to find that Valora wasn’t there.

Cursing under his breath, Torrin rushed down the hallway, down the stairs, his feet stomping against the steps as he jumped half of them just to get to the ground floor faster.

Around him, guards and servants alike gave him strange, curious looks as he ran past them, frazzled and without greeting them as he often did, but he paid them no mind.

She cannae have gone far. There are guards everywhere. They would have stopped her from escapin’.

Besides, Valora herself had claimed she wouldn’t even consider escaping, not when her sister’s future was at stake. Torrin didn’t know whether or not he should trust her, though; for all he knew, she could have been lying to him to lull him into a false sense of security.

But nay… nay, it cannae be. She seemed so genuine.

Just as he ran out into the courtyard, he caught sight of not only Valora, but also Daisy, the two young women standing close and whispering joyously between themselves.

Torrin came to a slow halt, slowing his gait, and watched them for a short while as they spoke, even though he couldn’t make out what they were saying.

Neither of them had noticed him, so he could only assume Valora was being her authentic self.

She had no reason, after all, to have her guard up when it came to Daisy, and though they had only just met each other, Torrin understood the importance of a friend better than anyone.

He had Col and Noah. Daisy, though popular among the young women of her station, didn’t have such a close bond with anyone.

I hope they can be like sisters tae each other.

Slowly, Torrin made his way towards them, his expression stern as he reached Valora. "Did I nae tell ye tae wait outside?"

Valora turned to him with a confused frown, tilting her head to the side. "Nay?" she said, phrasing it as a question. "Ye never told me anythin’ like that."

It occurred to Torrin, then, that perhaps he had neglected to mention it. Clearing his throat awkwardly, he gave Valora a sharp nod.

"Alright, then."

Next to her, Daisy giggled, the sound bright and just on the edge of teasing. Torrin couldn’t stop himself from shooting her a dirty look, but it did nothing to silence her.

If anything, she seemed to be forcing herself not to laugh harder.

"Let us head tae the village," said Torrin, ignoring the rest of the situation. "We should hurry."

"Why?" asked Daisy, much to Torrin’s chagrin. He really had no other reason than the fact that he wanted to avoid any further awkwardness, and her question had only made it worse. "It’s nae that far."

"Can Daisy come?" Valora asked, but Torrin shook his head.

"Nay," he said. "Daisy will stay here. I can only imagine the trouble the two o’ ye could cause together."

"Whatever could ye mean?" asked Daisy, completely innocently. Torrin, though, was not falling for it.

"Ye ken precisely what I mean," he said as he began to make his way towards the stables. "Miss MacNeacail, please follow me."

He didn’t wait to see if she did. He simply kept walking, listening for her steps behind him, and only breathed out when he heard them—riding boots sinking in the mud, the dull thud of them syncing to his steps.