Belle knew very well she could be vain sometimes. And she was also aware that they were going for a walk. Without hesitation though, she unpacked the sole pair of stilettos, her beloved yet sturdy blue wonders, and put them on. She braved worse terrain in them than just grass.
When she was leaving the bed and breakfast, she needed to pass the entrance to the local pub that were in the same building on the first floor. As it turned out, Ruby, the nice girl who checked her in yesterday, was a granddaughter of the woman that treated Gold so rude. The woman, Mrs. Lucas, known better as Granny, was the owner of both the bed and breakfast and the pub.
Now she saw Granny behind the counter in the pub, engrossed in conversation with some other woman, and Belle left quickly, not trying her luck. It was a good thing that she was meeting Gold outside, at a small square in the middle of the village. Belle spotted a single, wooden bench there and sat down, waiting. She was a bit early, so she dug out a notebook from her purse and reread multiple questions she had regarding local legends and traditions. Half the night she was writing down what she had learned yesterday and today she barely could contain yawning. The walk was a brilliant idea, she could clear her head then.
'Miss French,' she heard a familiar, soft voice and raised her head with a smile. Robert Gold was standing there, smiling shyly. Dressed in a shirt and jacket, he seemed a bit overdressed for the small village, but it fit well with her own dress and heels.
'Mr. Gold, how nice to see you.' She stood up. 'Shall we go?'
He led her down the main road through the village and out, at a slow, leisurely pace, while she bombarded him with questions, first about legends known throughout the whole Scotland or at least Highlands: nuckelavee, bauchan, cat sith, even Loch Ness monster. He proved to be knowledgeable and entertaining, just as she suspected, and Belle practically tripped over herself trying to ask him every question that popped into her head. Surprisingly, he didn't seem to be tired of it at all; on the contrary, he explained everything with a smile and even, for some reason, gratitude. Perhaps he didn't have many occasions to talk about any of this, people here must have known these things already.
They strayed from the sand path leading up to the hills, through the grass and bushes. Immersed in the conversation, Belle hardly paid any attention to the increasing discomfort of wearing heels in such terrain. Until she lost her balance with a most undignified shriek.
'Miss French!' Gold caught her by the arms, saving her from the fall. For a moment she didn't dare to move – and to be honest, she didn't even want to; it felt too nice being held by Mr. Gold. However, at his urgent questions if she was okay, she had to do something.
'Thank you, Mr. Gold, I'm fine.' She really was, years of wearing heels giving her muscle memory needed to avoid most of the injuries, even when falling down. None of her joints were any worse for wear, she noted with pride.
'Are you sure? I shouldn't have led you here, with your shoes...'
'No, no, it's alright,' she laughed. 'I'm wearing heels almost everywhere, though for our next walk I'll change them for flats perhaps.'
'Do you... Can you go back in them, though?' he asked anxiously. 'I... I wouldn't be able to help you much...'
He gestured helplessly at his cane, looking like he expected her to demand of him to carry her to the village on his back. Well. It wasn't entirely unappealing, but there was no need anyway.
'I'll be fine, Mr. Gold. I can walk back just fine, maybe slower and actually looking where I'm stepping. I don't want to head back yet, though. If you have time, we could just sit here, on that nice rock and talk more.'
She pointed to a rather large rock on the top of the small hill they were climbing. He nodded. When they sat down, he rubbed his knee with relief.
'It must be unpleasant for your knee too, walking here?' Belle asked. He blushed, and she almost bit her tongue. Curiosity and politeness, indeed.
'It's okay,' he said curtly, taking his hand off his knee. 'Well, I guess now that we're sitting safely, we can continue our chat?'
Belle smiled and allowed him to pull her back into the fascinating conversation about legends. He was in the middle of describing Cu Sith and Belle felt herself shudder despite it being a warm, sunny, August noon.
'Cu Sith has paws as large as a man's hand and shaggy, mangled fur. It's more like a large, very large wolf than a dog. It makes its home in the clefts of the rock, and from there it sets forth to roam the muirs. Cu Sith moves silently, hunting, but occasionally it lets out three, and only three, terrifying howls, and anyone who hears it, if he doesn't reach the safety by the time the third howl sounds out, shall be overcome with terror and die. The howling could be heard from many, many miles, even at the sea...'
Just then a loud bark rang out and Belle shrieked, catching Mr. Gold's hand. He gasped in turn, gaping at her clutching his palm, and only after a moment they looked around.
Towards them ran a large, black dog. It barked again, in a deep, deep voice.
'Mr. Gold!' Belle whispered.
Mr. Gold however calmed down after seeing the dog.
'It's okay, Miss French. It's only Bear.'
She looked at him totally confused.
'Bear?...'
'That's his name,' he explained quickly, standing up. 'Bear!'
The large dog almost knocked him down, but at the same time let out a yelp that could be described only as excited and enthusiastic. Soon enough, Bear was wriggling with pleasure, cuddling and nuzzling, as Mr. Gold rubbed his head, back, sides and eventually belly, repeating what a good boy the dog was. Seeing the giant with all four paws and tail waggling in the air, Belle found it hard to fear the creature. Observing the petting session, she didn't notice the second stranger until she heard the greetings.
'Hiya, Gold!' the red-haired girl called. She was wearing jeans, a blue jacket and worn out trainers, which made Belle a little embarrassed, seeing as the girl was two hundred percent better dressed for a walk there.
'Hi, Merida,' Gold smiled. 'Miss French, this is Merida MacAllister. Merida, this is Miss French, a journalist from London. Miss French asked me to tell her about local traditions and legends.'
'Yeah, no wonder after seeing what a star you were yesterday at the festival. You stole audience from all of us, even from my archery show.'
'It was all thanks to Miss French,' Gold said blushing and concentrated completely on petting Bear.
'I swear,' Merida said to Belle confidentially, 'this dog is trained to be a guard dog and scare people, but with him he's a complete teddy bear.'
Belle giggled, but Merida's next words brought her back to earth.
'It's a pity Gold isn't as good with people as he is with animals.'
'What?... What do you mean?...'
Merida shook her head.
'No matter. You'll see, or maybe not...'
Belle frowned, but then Gold looked back at them. Belle suspected he heard everything, despite Merida talking quietly.
'I think we should go back to the village,' he said. 'It's rather late. I need to open the shop.'
Merida bid her goodbyes and ran off with Bear in tow. The dog was probably the only one truly unhappy about the parting.
The walk back was quiet, Belle managed to ask some questions, but Gold seemed lost in thought. When they reached the first building, he stopped.
'Perhaps... perhaps we shouldn't walk together... I'm not the best liked man in the village.'
He seemed resigned and Belle was having none of it. Boldly, she looped her arm around his.
'I like you, Mr. Gold. I don't see why I should be concerned about local opinion.'
Gold took a deep breath.
'What if local opinion is right?'
'I prefer to make my own opinions, Mr. Gold. That's why I'm a good journalist. You've mentioned a shop. I would be delighted to see it, if you showed it to me.'
To her relief, she felt Gold relax.
'Alright, Miss French. This way, please.'
Belle beamed at him and followed. It was shaping up to be a good friendship.
Gold's shop was small, but Belle fell in love as soon as she saw the window, full of handmade woolen clothes and toys, as well as books. Books! The inside was no bigger than her single room at the bed and breakfast, cozy, filled with merchandise of undoubtedly Scottish theme that was a far cry from cheesy souvenirs she despised so much.
'It's technically a souvenir shop,' Gold explained. 'But locals buy many things too or ask me to order them from Inverness or even Glasgow. They don't have much time to go there and shop themselves.'
'You have books!' Belle said, her mind being a bit single-tracked at the moment.
'Yes, most of them have been here for a very long time, though. I have some classics for tourists, like Walter Scott or Robert Burns. Locals either already have them or aren't interested. And of course tourist guides and maps. And some crime fiction and romance books. These are selling the best. And I must admit that I read them also, the crime stories I mean.'
He blushed a bit, looking adorable. Belle smiled.
'I like both crime and romance stories. Classics too. I like everything perhaps. I might buy some from you, my own stash probably won't be enough.'
Especially if she was going to prolong her visit, which was very, very tempting. She could write just as well from there.
'You are very welcome to buy anything you like, Miss French.'
'So,' Belle couldn't rein in her curiosity. 'What gave you the idea of setting up this beautiful shop? These things, you made them yourself, right?' she gestured at the array of woolen products. 'Where did you learn it?'
'My aunts taught me. Then I was training to be a tailor in school. But the most valuable skills I learned from my aunts. They owned this shop once upon a time, it was a tailor shop back then. But now there's not much work for tailors, and we have many more tourists than twenty years ago.'
'What were your parents doing? Were they farmers here?'
She could practically see Gold tense and look around as if searching for the quickest way out. He took a step back.
'My parents weren't from here,' he said, straining to sound calm and normally, but Belle had been a journalist for too long and had done too many interviews to fall for this. She wasn't doing an interview, however, and felt sincerely bad for making Gold this distressed.
'I'm sorry,' she said. 'I've been told many times that I'm too curious for my own good. You don't have to answer.'
Gold shook his head.
'I'm sorry, too... I...'
'It's alright,' she said quickly, trying to save him from making any further explanations. 'We can talk about something else.'
Gold smiled sadly.
'Well, if you are interested in my family, I can show you a picture of my son.'
'I'd love that,' Belle beamed. Gold pulled a wallet from an inner pocket of his jacket and opened it.
'That's him. It was taken a year ago, he was seven then. This is my favorite picture of him.'
Belle gently took the photo. A smiling boy was sitting on the grass, with a live sheep on either side, with some hay in his brown, curly hair. Belle couldn't help her own smile, the liveliness and happiness were practically pouring out of the picture.
'I can't wait to meet him,' she said.
'His mother will drive him back here the day after tomorrow. And the day after that... maybe you'd like to eat dinner with us?...'
He was looking at her practically not breathing and Belle savored that sight for a moment.
'I'd love to, Mr. Gold.'
'Good!... I'm... very glad. I'm sure you'll find Bae a kindred spirit. He's full of energy and that ardor for learning everything about the world.'
'It's a date then, Mr. Gold,' Belle said deliberately choosing the words and silently thanking every possible entity or force that might have had a hand in putting this lovely man in her path.
Because in that moment Belle was sure – she was falling in love with Mr. Gold and if that wasn't a worthy adventure, nothing was.
A/N: Stay tuned for further short fics in the series!
