Page 49 of Highlander's Captive Bride
He shot her another smile. “Eleven it is, then. Enjoy yer breakfast.”
* * *
Daisy watched Bellamy’s retreating back with her heart fluttering wildly in her chest. She had been completely taken by surprise when he had appeared opposite her at the table, flashing her a wide, white-toothed smile. He had looked heart-stoppingly handsome, and seeing him so soon after their intimate liaison in the early hours of that morning had made her hot all over again.
His invitation to step out to the village with him had delighted her, and she had accepted willingly. She was impressed by his thoughtfulness and looked forward to spending some time alone with him again. It was a relief to think she did not have to worry too much about Elodie for a little while, for the child was practicing her acting skills on the unfortunate Poppy very successfully and was quite safe, for the time being.
So, Daisy felt free to join Bellamy on a jaunt. But that brought up the matter of what she would wear. She toyed with the notion of changing her gown. It was a fine, warm day. Perhaps something a bit lighter would suit the excursion more than the plain stuff dress she was currently wearing—her usual sickroom garb.
Feeling excited for the day ahead, she ate a leisurely breakfast of buttered oatcakes and sheep milk cheese, washed down with strong tea. Then, she made her way back to her room to find a suitable dress, pinch her cheeks, and brush her hair into a less formal style. She wanted to look nice for Bellamy.
When the clock in the great hall struck eleven, Daisy tucked a cloth bag in her pocket for any shopping she might do and was soon gliding down the staircase to meet him. She was happy to see he was already there, waiting for her, dressed in his kilt of Murdoch tartan and long boots, with a simple sheepskin jerkin over his shirt.
Just the sight of him standing there, smiling at her as she approached, made her heart skip several beats.
“Well, ye look as bonny as a summer day,” Bellamy told her gallantly, offering her his arm as she came up to him. She took it willingly, thrilled to feel the strength of the flexing muscles beneath the material of his shirt.
“Thank ye kindly, Sir,” Daisy said, finding herself in a mood of girlish excitement. “Ye dinnae look so bad yerself.”
“Are ye ready to go, then?”
“Aye, I’m ready.”
“Then let us away.”
He led her out through the keep doors, and they stepped into the bright sunshine of the courtyard. It warmed Daisy immediately, banishing any remaining tiredness she felt from her lack of sleep and filling her with a sense of optimism.
“This way, Madam,” Bellamy said, apparently in a playful mood, steering her away from the main gates, around the side of the keep, and across the green.
Eventually, they came to a small wooden gate. Bellamy let go of her arm long enough to hold the gate open for her to pass through ahead of him, then took it up again once they stood on the other side.
Daisy gasped and smiled in delight when she saw the rolling moors ahead of them, the gorse blazing golden, and snow-capped mountains gleaming in the sunlight on the far horizon. A broad, grassy path unwound lazily across the moor, which she presumed was their route, for she could just spot the curling smoke of chimneys beyond.
However, the loch lay in front of them, its shimmering expanse breathtaking in the bright light. She noticed a small rowboat tied to a tree.
“Hop in,” Bellamy prompted her, leading her to the edge of the water and handing her into the boat. “Careful now. We dinnae want ye spoiling that pretty dress by falling in,” he added as she wobbled before getting her sea legs. “It’ll be better if ye sit down.”
Gingerly, Daisy sat on the wooden seat that straddled the little craft. Bellamy came aboard with one long-legged, practiced stride, making it bob on the water. He sat down opposite her and shipped the oars.
“Off we go,” he said, grinning at her before taking the first stroke with ease, the muscles in his arms and shoulders rippling beneath his shirt.
A warm breeze ruffled his hair, the sight of him looking so carefree setting Daisy’s heart aflutter once more. She was suddenly aware of how light her heart was—lighter than it had been for quite some time.
Bellamy rowed them out onto the waters, while Daisy enjoyed the comical quacking of mallards as they complained about this invasion of their territory. She admired the magnificent grace of the geese and a pair of swans that flew over and skimmed spectacularly as they came to rest on the glittering surface of the loch.
“So beautiful,” she breathed, mired in wonder, gazing around her.
“I’m glad ye’re enjoying it. I thought going this way would be a wee bit more picturesque for ye than taking the causeway, which is the usual route to the village,” Bellamy told her, pulling strongly on the oars. “But we’re nae in any hurry, so we can take our time, and I can show ye some of the sights of me home.”
“Ye sound very proud when ye speak of it,” she observed, taking her eyes off the glorious scenery long enough to smile at him.
“And why not? There’s plenty to be proud of,” he asserted, and she had to agree.
With Bellamy’s long, powerful strokes, they arrived at the opposite loch shore in around a quarter of an hour. Bellamy handed her out of the boat onto a little gravelly beach, without even a drop of water getting on the hem of her dress. She waited for him, breathing in the fresh air as he tied up the boat.
“The village is just over the hill there,” he told her when he joined her, taking her arm in his again.
“What is it called?” Daisy wanted to know.
