Chapter 2

2

D espite his constant, nagging fear for Elodie, as he rode with his captive behind him down a narrow, rocky pass, Bellamy had to admit he was enjoying himself. Not only had he procured what he sought and had a fine fight that had eliminated any witnesses to boot, but it was turning out to be the most interesting kidnap he'd ever staged.

This wee slip of a lass was arrestingly beautiful, with her deep-brown, doe eyes that flashed with anger, long, silky, dark-brown hair, and enticing curves. But she was fascinating, too. He could not help admiring her for her courage and wit when she had continued to argue with him so fearlessly, seemingly immune to his threats.

She isnae exactly what I was expecting, though. Healers are supposed to be old and ugly, are they nae? I just pray for Elodie's sake that this slip of a lass lives up to her reputation.

As evening drew in, he decided it was time to look for a place to make camp for the night. They were approaching a stand of pine trees next to a fast-flowing burn fringed by soft turf. Bellamy surveyed the rocky crags above, but no threat seemed apparent.

He knew they were about forty miles from Castle Murdoch, a distance easily achievable by sundown the following day, even with their mounts carefully picking their way over the often treacherous mountainous terrain.

"We'll rest here for the night and leave at dawn," he commanded as they rode beneath the trees. Birdsong and the wild music of the tumbling water was the only sound to disturb the tranquility of the day. "Let the horses rest and eat yer rations."

With some exclamations of relief, the party clanked to a halt. One by one, the men dismounted, rummaging in their saddlebags for any provisions they had brought to sustain them before turning their beasts loose to eat and drink their fill by the burn.

Bellamy swung down frontwise from the saddle, then turned to lift the healer down. She was as light as thistle seeds blowing in the breeze. His hands spanned her slender waist easily, and she must have been aware they could just as easily snap her in two if they so wished.

However, if so, it did nothing to cow her spirit. She huffed and glared at him as she steadied herself on her feet and brushed down her dress. He motioned for her to sit on a nearby rock.

Her lips pursed, she obeyed, but he did not take his eyes off her as he unbuckled his saddlebag and took out some provisions wrapped in oilcloth. He slapped his horse's rump affectionately and sent him off to drink with the others before sitting down beside her, not trusting her not to try to run away. Unwrapping the cloth, he took half of the bread and cheese within and offered them to her.

"Nay. I'm nae hungry after seeing all that slaughter," she said haughtily, looking away.

"Eat," he ordered, thrusting the food at her.

Flashing him a furious glance, she snatched the bread and cheese from his hand and nibbled at it, clearly forcing herself to do so. He chuckled inwardly, thinking she must be as hungry as he was, but he supposed that seeing her escort cut down in front of her eyes might have affected her appetite.

No matter. Whatever the circumstances, no one was going to accuse him of not feeding her. Besides, he needed her in good fettle to do her job.

Firewood was gathered, and a fire was soon blazing. Tea was made, and after a generous dash of whisky was added to the mixture, the hot beverage was handed around in horn cups. The men sat around the fire, eating, drinking, and talking amongst themselves.

Bellamy and the healer sat slightly apart, eating and drinking in silence. He could not help but cast her sideways glances, finding himself admiring her finely carved profile and the way she ate so delicately.

She finished the last bite of her cheese and brushed the crumbs away. "How much further do we have to go?" she asked suddenly, her eyes fixed ahead on the horses.

"Well, if we keep on like this, we'll be back well in time for supper tomorrow if that's what ye're thinking."

The withering look she shot him then made him almost choke on his bread with laughter. It was so easy to provoke her! And so amusing. In fact, he had a hard job remembering when anyone had made him so amused—at least, not since Elodie had fallen sick.

After a while, with the meal concluded and the pleasant smell of pipe tobacco floating in the air, Bellamy looked upwards. The sun was dipping below the horizon, streaking the sky with streaming banners of pink, violet, and orange.

"Time to bed down, lads," he declared, getting up, yawning and stretching.

In answer to his command, the men moved to go about their last-minute chores. Some went to secure the horses, while another went to the burn to rinse out the cups before bringing them back and adding more wood to the fire to ensure it would burn throughout the night.

Bellamy gestured for a fellow to watch the healer while he joined some of the other men in briefly disappearing into the trees to answer nature's call. Upon his return a few minutes later, bedrolls were already being unfurled and laid beside the fire, ready for sleep.

He was about to get his own bedroll and a blanket for the healer from the saddlebags on his horse when she suddenly rose to her feet and said, "I need to relieve meself."

Bellamy looked down at the top of her head, which came up to the middle of his chest. Her hair shone like silk. His fingers suddenly itched to touch it, but he somehow managed to stop himself from acting on the impulse.

"Aye, all right," he agreed, casting about for a convenient tree not too far away, where he could keep an eye on her. He pointed to a thick pine tree about twenty yards away. "There. But dinnae try anything. I'll be watching ye the whole time."

"Ach, I'm sure ye will," she answered disdainfully before picking her way carefully over to the tree and vanishing behind it.

Bellamy kept his eyes on the flash of pale green her gown made against the brown trunk. Something made a thrashing noise in the branches above, and he briefly looked away from the tree, upwards, to locate the source of the sound. It was naught but a squirrel.

When he looked back, he glimpsed pale green flashing between the tree trunks, heading off fast, away from him.

"Dammit," he muttered under his breath, irritation rising as he took off after her.

There was no time to waste on such a pointless chase. He had to get home fast, for his daughter could already be dying, and this healer was his last chance to save her.

Daisy crouched behind the tree trunk as if to relieve herself. In reality, she was watching Bellamy Kane intently for any gap in his attention. When a pair of pigeons in the tree above him distracted him momentarily, she saw her chance.

Picking up her skirts, she dashed off into the forest, leaping over the underbrush and ducking to avoid low-hanging branches as she plunged deeper into the trees.

I have to get away!

But even over the sound of her own racing heartbeat thundering in her ears, she heard him crashing through the trees behind her, the sounds growing ever louder. Risking a quick glance over her shoulder to see just how close he was, she was horrified to see him almost upon her, and she let out a small scream, turning back and increasing her pace, panting wildly in panic as she forged ahead.

She shrieked as his hands suddenly grasped her by the waist, bringing them both crashing down to the leafy floor. Immediately, she swiveled on her behind to face him, lashing at him with her hands and feet. But in a flash, he had her, covering her thrashing body with his large one.

Daisy sobbed in frustration as he easily pinned down her arms by the wrists.

"Ye bastard!" she hissed, hating him with every fiber of her being as she vainly tried to dislodge him. She might as well have been trying to shake off a mountain for all the good it did her.

"Wheesht, lass, 'tis nae the sort of language ye expect from a laird's daughter!" he said, panting. "Ye're just wasting time," he added.

She gave up the struggle and simply tried to recover her breath, but his weight was crushing.

"Get off me, ye great dummart," she gasped. "I cannae breathe with ye on top of me!"

In answer, he leaned up on his elbows, taking the weight of his body off her, staring down at her while she took in deep breaths.

They lay there for a few minutes, just staring at each other. Daisy grudgingly admitted to herself for the first time how extraordinarily attractive he was. The hard, masculine angles of his face could have been chiseled by a master craftsman but for the silvery battle scars highlighting his left cheek and the bridge of his nose.

Black stubble covered his jaw, and his lips were wide and firm, with white, even teeth showing between them. When she looked into his large gray eyes, she realized they were fixed on her mouth, and she shut it immediately, deliberately pursing it into a thin line.

"Let. Me. Up," she told him emphatically.

"If I do, will ye promise nae to run away again?" he asked, looking into her eyes intently.

"Do I have a choice?" she shot back, resolving to acquiesce to her fate as his captive—for the time being, at least.

"All right, but behave," he warned.

She did not deign to reply as he sat up slowly and finally allowed her to do the same. But he kept a tight hold on her wrists, transferring them both to one hand as he got to his knees and then rose to his feet, pulling her up with him.

"Ow, ye're hurting me wrists," she complained, trying to get him to let go. The crushing pressure on her bones lessened infinitesimally.

"Just dinnae try anything," he warned. "Now, stay still, ye have pine needles in yer hair."

Before she knew what he was doing, he began picking the needles out, one by one. Astonished, she found herself standing quietly, allowing him to do it, though part of her wondered what the hell she was playing at.

"That's it. Now, come on. And no more tricks. We need to get back to Castle Murdoch without delay."

"But why? What d'ye want with me?" she asked in frustration.

"Ye'll find out soon enough. Now, come on."

Bellamy led her back to the campsite, where his men had already bedded down for the night except for a guard left on watch. He let her wrists go but kept her near as they approached his horse. He snagged his bedroll and two blankets from the saddlebags, led her over to a spot near the fire, and threw the bedding on the ground.

"Lie down there," he ordered, pointing at the blankets.

Daisy obeyed, seeing no point in arguing. She felt utterly spent. But then, he lay down on the bedroll, right next to her.

"Ye cannae expect me to sleep next to ye!" she exclaimed, sitting up at once.

He pulled her back down. "That's exactly what I expect," he replied.

Huffing with indignation, she pulled one side of the blanket up to her neck and rolled to her side, turning her back to him in disgust. But then, as if to add insult to injury, he slung his arm over her waist, pinning her in place against his chest.

Shocked, Daisy gasped and stiffened, trying to pull away from him. He merely flexed his arm, and she was right back where he wanted her.

"Stay still."

Mortified, Daisy lay awake for some time, listening to the sounds of him breathing next to her. They were so close that she could actually feel the steady beating of his heart against her back. He tightened his arm and grunted in satisfaction as if he was sure she would not escape.

Finally, his breathing slowed, and she realized he was asleep. Briefly, she entertained the idea of running again. However, as if he could read her thoughts even in his sleep, his arm tightened around her.

With a heavy sigh of defeat, she gave in to her weariness and soon succumbed to sleep as well.

Bellamy awoke just as dawn was breaking, illuminating the sky above with a riot of colors. The healer lay warm against him, still in his arms. Slowly, not wishing to wake her, he leaned up on his elbow and watched her face in repose.

The dawn lit her features, allowing his gaze to rove unchecked over their perfect symmetry. A silky tress had come loose and fallen over her forehead. His hand moved automatically with an unfamiliar gentleness to brush it aside, the better to look at her.

Her eyes fluttered open, and she stared up at him, confusion in her gaze. Then, a small line appeared between her brows as she realized where she was. Immediately, she pulled away from him and sat up, rubbing her face, and pushing her long hair aside.

This time, when she went to relieve herself, he went with her, turning his back as she crouched behind the same tree as before. She came out blushing, but her demeanor was as dignified as a duchess's as she accompanied him back to the camp.

His admiration for her increasing with every moment, Bellamy tried to put his somewhat steamy thoughts of her aside. He was careful not to look at her as they briefly broke their fast and prepared to move on before the heat of what promised to be another fine day began in earnest.

"Let's get going, lads. Time's a-wastin'," he commanded, swinging himself into the saddle and pulling the healer up behind him.

He put Elodie at the forefront of his mind as they set off again towards home. He was not a religious man, but he silently prayed his daughter's condition had not worsened in his absence.

Things were peaceful for about the first mile or so, which gave Bellamy time to reflect on what had happened in the woods. Some said this healer was a witch because of her ability to cure folks when they could not be cured. He did not believe in the supposed powers of witches—that superstitious nonsense was for bairns and old women—but the lass had seemed to exert some power over him in the woods.

Something buried deep within him told him that the pull he felt towards her was more than just simple lust. Any woman was his if he wished it, and they usually wanted more of him than he was willing to give. That was the way he liked it. And that was the way he intended to keep it.

At the same time, he had to admit that this lassie's warm curves pressed against his back and her slender arms wrapped around his waist as they rode on were distracting, to say the least. The feelings she was stirring inside him were unexpected. And disturbing, too.

He resolved not to let her weave her spell over him again.

"Why did ye have to kidnap me? I mean, why me? I'm needed urgently at home. I was on me way there in a hurry, to treat me sister-in-law, who's very poorly. She needs me. There are plenty of other good healers in the Highlands. Why did ye nae kidnap one of them?"

The question broke suddenly through his reverie, demanding his attention.

"Because I heard ye're the best," he answered simply. "And I need the best."

"Why? Why d'ye need me services so badly?"

Bellamy thought for a moment. "If I tell ye, will ye stop with yer questions until we get to me home?"

There was silence from behind, and then she said, "I might not. Then again, I might."

He grunted through his smile. "Very well." He paused to choose his words carefully. "I have a wee bairn—a daughter. Seven summers is all she is. She's right bonny, but a week or so back, she suddenly started getting sick. There's something wrong with her stomach, for she cannae keep a morsel down, that's if ye can get her to eat anything.

"She says she feels sick all the time. And she's lost a lot of weight, even in that short amount of time, and she's as pale as a sheet. Sometimes, she has a terrible fever, too, and convulsions…"

He began to hear in his voice the weight of his sorrow for Elodie and stopped speaking.

"And?" The prompt came softly, encouragingly.

Bellamy took a deep breath. "I've tried three healers already, from within me lands, but none of them can come up with an answer as to what is the cause of it. And they certainly cannae do anything to ease her pain or cure her. Then, I heard about ye and what a great, wise healer ye are, that ye can cure people of things…" he trailed off, suddenly unsure of what to say.

"When they shouldnae be curable," she finished for him with a sigh tinged with sadness.

Why should that make her sad?

"Aye, that's right. I made it me business to find out about ye. Then, I heard from me sources that ye'd be traveling from Castle Rottrich back to yer braither's castle at a certain time yesterday. Well, I couldnae waste the chance to grab ye and bring ye back, to see if ye can help Elodie," he said, determinedly unashamed of his actions.

"Elodie. That's a bonny name," she said reflectively. "The poor wee lassie. I'm so sorry she's suffering." Her gentle words touched his usually stony heart in a novel way, and hope for his daughter sprang up in his breast anew. Then, she added in a harsher tone, "But ye didnae have to kidnap me and kill all those men like a brute. Ye could have just asked me, like a normal person!"

"Ach, woman, do ye always have so much to say for yerself? Can ye nae be quiet for a minute?"

Bellamy was irritated, with himself as much as anything, for her words hit home. And even as he spoke, the niggling feeling that he ought to do something to put things between them on a more civilized footing overwhelmed him.

"Fair enough. But I didnae ken that at the time. I had to make sure of getting ye. Would ye even have come if I'd asked ye nicely? Ye said ye were on yer way to treat yer sister-in-law back at yer braither's castle. Would ye nae have refused me on her account?"

He felt her physically bristle behind him, but the urge to justify himself was strong.

"I love me sister-in-law, and ye ken very well that I was on me way home to help her—"

He nodded his head. "Ye see? I was right, ye would have said nay."

"Let me finish," she huffed. "But when a healer has to choose between helping a sick child and an adult, well, the child has to come first, whatever they may feel about it. At least, that's me rule."

Again, her words touched him in a way he had never felt before. She had integrity as well as grit.

"All right. What if we make a deal?" he offered, thinking fast.

"What sort of deal?" she asked, sounding doubtful.

"Well, ye come and help Elodie and do yer best to make her well. And if ye succeed, I'll compensate ye handsomely for yer time and artistry."

"And all the rest—kidnapping me, scaring me half to death, and murdering me escort in front of me eyes, nae to mention manhandling me."

He shook his head irritably, like a horse annoyed by flies. "Ye see, there ye go again! Can ye nae let it drop? Take the deal."

"At the risk of repeating meself, do I have a choice? It's hardly a deal, since ye kidnapped me, and ye're forcing me to do yer will. And I dinnae require any compensation for me services, thank ye. I'll do it for the child, nae because ye're forcing me."

Even as they sparred, and despite his irritation, Bellamy felt his excitement rise again as every quiver of indignation, every tiny movement of her leg muscles behind him passed from her body to his. It was deliciously distracting, and he secretly reveled in it.

And despite her continued feistiness, he felt her relax against him. The stiffness of before had left her body as if she'd given up hope of escape.

She leaned against him like it was the most natural thing in the world, her hands clasped loosely around his belly. They were moving as one atop the horse as the beast kept up a steady canter homewards.

Like lovers out on a tryst.