Page 50 of Highlander's Captive Bride
Bellamy laughed. “Why, Murdoch, of course.”
“Of course,” she said, joining in his laughter.
They strolled slowly up the grassy incline, through the heather and gorse, until they came to the top of the hill. There, Bellamy paused to allow Daisy to take in the view, the quaint village of Murdoch spread out before them.
“And all of this is yers?” she asked as they walked on side by side.
“Aye, all this and much more, too. One day, maybe I’ll give ye a tour.”
“I’d like to see it,” she said as they came to the outskirts of the village, meaning every word.
But then she remembered with a pang of sadness that she would never see the full extent of his domain, for she would soon be leaving him and Castle Murdoch behind.
If only things were different!
15
“’Tis quite busy for a small village,” Daisy observed as they walked down the main street, which was bustling with farm traffic and people.
“Aye, ’tis a market day,” Bellamy explained over the cacophony of sheep baaing, dogs barking, chickens clucking and squawking, people talking, children yelling, and loaded farm carts creaking by. “And the last market day before Beltane, so everyone’s keen to get their goods sold today so they can spend the whole day tomorrow celebrating.”
He laughed good-naturedly, returning the many curious looks and greetings of his subjects with slightly reserved nods and smiles. Daisy suspected that, for some reason, he did not want to encourage interruptions.
“Aye, of course. ’Tis the same everywhere,” she said, wondering a little forlornly how the Beltane festivities were shaping up at Castle McGunn and feeling rather homesick.
But she soon forgot it as they drew nearer the village center, over which a large stone cross towered, and they entered the market proper.
Daisy observed all the stalls selling early spring harvested vegetables and barrows full of fresh meat and fish, alongside those offering dry goods such as flour and oats.
She noticed a stall loaded with pots of heather honey containing large combs which she thought looked delicious. She adored honeycomb and looked at them longingly, wondering if she should treat herself. But it was difficult to decide what to choose, for there were jars of fruit preserves, too, and what she guessed must be flasks of locally made wine.
Interestingly, as she was deliberating, she noticed that the stall appeared to be run by a pair of monks.
“Is there a monastery nearby?” she asked Bellamy as he looked over the goods on display.
“Aye, St. Tristan’s, about five miles up the road,” Bellamy explained before greeting the two monks, who inclined their heads politely under the hoods of their robes.
Daisy waited while Bellamy bought a whole case of wine and had it put aside to be collected by a servant before the end of the day. Then, to her surprise, he bought one of the honeycomb pots, too—the largest on display—and presented it to her.
“I saw ye looking at them with big eyes,” he told her with a wry smile.
“Am I really so easy to read?” Daisy asked ruefully after thanking him and putting the pot in her bag.
“Aye, I’m afraid ye are,” he told her, making her laugh.
After that, they wandered on, pausing now and then to inspect the huge variety of goods on offer, from woven cloth to candles, from beef to buttons to boots. It was a feast for Daisy’s eyes and ears after spending so much time in Elodie’s sickroom. Her senses felt quite refreshed.
They were passing a kiosk bedecked with fancy ribbons, beads, and hair accessories for ladies when they saw Nadia standing there, rifling through some colorful scarves that were hanging from a crossbar. Over her arm was a wicker basket with a few items in it. When she saw them, she gave them a bright smile.
They greeted her.
“Good day to ye, M’laird, Daisy,” Nadia said, bobbing a curtsey. “Ye’re out doing a wee bit of shopping, too, are ye nae?”
“Aye. I’m showing Daisy around a bit,” Bellamy replied.
“Ach, that’s nice.” Nadia turned to Daisy. “What d’ye think of our little market, Daisy? Have ye found anything ye wish to buy yet?” she asked.
“I like it very well, Nadia,” Daisy told the girl. “I’ve seen far too many pretty things to buy already. I dinnae ken what to choose. Have ye bought anything nice yerself?” She eyed Nadia’s basket.
