wave, wings of fine sea spray flew along the gunwales, making Flora feel she was soaring, joining the birds overhead in their flight.
Alec steered the boat towards the white sands of the beach at Firemore and pulled in alongside the rocks. In the shelter afforded by the headland, the water here was as calm as a hillside lochan, making it easy for Flora to scramble ashore. She balanced at the top of the boulders, reaching back so that Alec could hand her the hamper and, while he made the boat fast, she spread a plaid rug on the dry sand a little higher up the beach. Raising a hand to shield her eyes against the dazzle of the spring sunlight on the water, she smiled as Alec approached, his boots crunching on the black tangles of bladderwrack that festooned the bay. He threw himself down on the rug beside her and lay looking straight up into the sky above, which was the same colour as the delicate harebells that grew here and there along the roadside in summer.
‘We’re being watched.’ He pointed upwards and she lay back, too, to follow the lazy circles that the eagle drew as it spiralled ever higher, climbing on a thermal over the hills. Alec reached for a pair of binoculars that he’d tucked into the hamper alongside the sandwiches and ginger beer. He handed them across to her and she focused the sights, just able to make out the graceful, finger-like primary feathers at the end of each wing. She passed the binoculars back and Alec took his turn. After a few minutes, he sat up and scanned the hills on the far side of the loch.
‘That eagle’s not the only one watching us,’ he said with a grin. He pointed towards the shoulder of land above the eastern shore, where she could just make out the grey walls of a concrete hut, one of many that had sprung up around the loch in the past months. ‘That’s the signal station. I’d better be on my best behaviour, because your brother is keeping an eye on me.’ He handed the binoculars back to her.
‘How do you know Ruaridh is on duty today?’ Flora asked, squinting through the scopes to try to see.
‘Look to the left, just beside the hut. What can you see?’
‘There’s what looks like a signal flag tied to a stick. A blue cross on a white background. What does it mean?’ Flora asked.
Alec laughed. ‘It stands for the letter X. Which is also used to signal the message “Stop carrying out your intentions and watch for my signals.” It’s your brother, all right. See, he hasn’t run it up the official signalling mast. It’s meant just for us. Or, more probably, for me!’
‘Well, what a cheek! I’m sure your intentions are nothing but honourable.’
Alec propped himself on one elbow, watching her profile as she scanned the landscape with the field glasses.
‘They certainly are honourable. But I do have intentions, you know, Flora, where you are concerned.’
She set aside the binoculars, laughing. ‘And may I ask just what those intentions might be, Alec Mackenzie-Grant?’
His expression was suddenly serious as he reached out a finger to brush a tendril of hair from her cheek. ‘I intend to spend the rest of my life with you, Flora Gordon. If you’ll have me, that is. I can’t give you a formal proposal just yet, as I have a few hurdles to cross before I’m in a position to do so. But once both of our families have realised how serious I am about you, once I’ve had a chance to square it with your father and mine, I’ll be asking you. Just so’s you know, in case you were in any doubt.’
She lay on her side, facing him, watching the play of sunlight and shadows on his face, and then she said, ‘I have no doubts whatsoever where you are concerned, Alec. But you were engaged to another woman just a few months ago. I’m not at all sure this is very proper.’
He picked up a fistful of sand and watched it trickle through his fingers, opening his palm to let the wind scatter the last grains across the beach. ‘I’m ashamed to say that I allowed my father to talk me into the idea of marrying Diana. A very suitable match, he said it would be. My heart was never in it. And clearly neither was hers, given the speed with which she replaced