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CHAPTER FOUR

W hat have I done? God, what have I done!

Torrin kept his expression blank, his head high, his shoulders back. But deep inside, panic was beginning to settle as he thought about how reckless and impulsive he had been—two words that otherwise never described him or his actions.

He must have lost his mind; it was the only logical conclusion. Why else would he have bid on Laird MacNaecail’s daughter?

From the corner of his eye, he could see Noah glance at him every few steps, his gaze betraying all the concern the rest of his face didn’t. He, too, seemed entirely calm. The only reason Torrin knew he was worried at all was because he knew him so well.

As Noah walked to his left, Laird MacNeacail kept in pace with him to his right, the three of them walking to the main gates. His heart had leapt all the way to his throat, but when he spoke, his voice was calm, measured.

"I want all o’ me wife’s things tae be brought tae her new home," he told her father. "See it is arranged as soon as possible."

"O’ course," said her father, in that tone that was at the same time as eager to please as it was proud. Torrin didn’t understand the man; he was full of contradictions, too full of himself to speak to him in absolute servitude, but too aware of the importance of this marriage to make any demands—or even suggestions.

"Dinnae fash. I will have everythin’ arranged. "

Valora. A fittin’ name fer the lass.

It was the first time Torrin had heard her name. It would be the name he would call for the rest of his life, he realized.

When would the time come, he wondered, when her name would be as familiar to him as his own?

Better me than someone else. But how dae I explain this tae me council?

"It is a big investment," said Laird MacNeacail, clearly oblivious of Torrin’s dislike for him. The man had no concept of humility, nor any understanding of the feelings of those around him. "I understand that. So, if there is anythin’ I can dae fer ye, Laird Gunn, let me ken an’ I shall dae it."

"Thank ye, Laird MacNeacail," said Noah, jumping in before Torrin himself could respond. It was for the best; Torrin didn’t know if he could control himself and keep his opinion of Laird MacNeacail a secret. "Yer eagerness is appreciated. But now that me laird has paid ye fer yer daughter’s hand, ye have neither claim nor duty towards her. She is now Laird Gunn’s tae dae with as he pleases.

Ye ken this was an auction and ye dinnae have hold on Lady Valora anymore. "

Noah knew all the right things to say to Laird MacNeacail, but that didn’t mean Torrin liked to hear them. Besides, the more they discussed this arrangement, the more he was plunged into the depths of a quiet, secret panic at the thought of revealing his… bride to his council.

He had only gone to this auction to shadow Laird Keith and find out more about the man.

He was never meant to leave the auction with a wife, but when he realized Laird Keith would do anything to have the girl, Torrin couldn’t let him have her; not after what he had done in the middle of the dance floor, disrespecting her like that in front of everyone.

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 realized they 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.

Next to him, Noah brandished his own blade, which flashed in the light of the torches. Two against four were good enough odds for him; he had fought with worse, and so had Noah. With him by his side, he knew there was little chance of defeat.

"Unhand her or I will kill all o’ ye an’ then I’ll go after yer laird," Torrin threatened. His blade dripped with blood and so did his hands. His breath came in ragged puffs, rage and indignation coursing through his body and making it impossible to control himself. "Dae ye hear me? Unhand her!"

Reluctantly, the man who was holding Valora let her go, and she rushed to Torrin, who pushed her behind him, using his own body as a shield.

She was so close to him that he could feel her entire body trembling against his back, and he reached for her hand with his free one, the one that wasn’t holding his sword—the one that despite not holding his sword, was still covered in blood, thick and tacky.

Even so, Valora didn’t shy away from his touch.

She held his hand tightly, taking whatever comfort she could from it.

"This is an act o’ war!" Torrin shouted, his fingers tightening around the hilt of his sword. Laird Keith’s men remained silent, none of them knowing what to say. They were only soldiers, after all, and they were simply following the man’s orders.

Next to him, Noah took a step forward, and so did Laird Keiths’ men in response. With a slight tilt of his head, Torrin turned to Valora.

"Step back," he told her. "An’ dinnae fash. Ye are mine now and I willnae let anything happen tae ye."

Valora hesitated for a moment, before she did as she was told, taking several steps back and removing herself from the makeshift battlefield. If Torrin lost, if those men really wanted to, they could get to her, but he would give his life before he let that happen.

If there was one thing he would always do, that was to protect the innocent. And in all this, there was no party more innocent than Valora herself, who had been thrust into the depths of a situation as dangerous as it was unknown.

Torrin’s blade flashed in the moonlight as he raised it higher, ready to attack. And just as the men threw themselves at him, he took the first step, determined to win.