“He has come of age; he needs more rest,” she remembers the physician saying.
While treating Clach, the physician had questioned her on how he damaged his head. Amelia had told him the truth, and seeing her face and the patches of lost hair she had, he became silent with his questions.
“Some marriages are like that,” he said, putting the conversation to a stop.
Indeed, Amelia wasn’t expecting him to congratulate her on what she did. He will surely take sides with Clach, who has been his patient for years and has been putting money in his pocket. And, he has been the one taking care of her bruises for the past five years. Therefore, she expects him to understand that if she caused Clach to lose some blood, it means she has had enough of his brutality.
While Clach recovers, Amelia has always visited his chamber to keep an eye on his health and ensure the maids are giving him his medication. Since he hasn’t agreed to the divorce discussion she had brought up, she is still his wife and has to take good care of him, even when he doesn’t deserve it.
Sitting on a cushion not far from his bed, Amelia watched as the senior maid gently passed the cup of medicine to Clach. He murmurs some curse beneath his breath as he sits upright to drink the mixture. Amelia watches him closely; he has never once stayed at her sickbed whenever he had pounded her on in their five years of marriage. And here she is, sitting for him. She is sure of one thing; she is different from him.
“Ye witch! Are ye trying again to kill me by sitting there?” Clach says. “I won’t be surprised if ye put poison in these honking herbs. If ye must know, Ah'm hard crack, I deh die easily.”
Amelia stands up. He has always known him to be a man with a foul mouth, saying things that can hurt another person. She won’t let him screw her mind with his words like he usually does.
“That’s the difference between you and me, Clach, I deh hurt people for the fun of it,” Amelia looks away from him.
Clach chuckles, “Ah'm surprised at your boldness, before you ran away; you could barely look me in the eye. Now, you have toughened up, huh, hitting back at me?”
“Your physician said you need bed rest in the next two to three days. Your head is healing, he said, then you can go back to work,” she says as she walks towards the door, ignoring his question. She knows he is trying to start another fight; she won’t grace it.
Then she stops and turns to him just before she exits the door. “I will be visiting ma family today.”
“I forbid you to visit them!” Clach snaps.
“I wasn’t asking for your permission,” Amelia says, “just to let you ken.” She turns to leave, then hesitates. “Oh, when Ah'm back, we’ll talk about the divorce.” With this, she left the room, and she hears Clach cursing after her.
Oliver folds the last pieces of paper he has been writing, a business letter from one of his partners in another village. Oliver, looking through the papers on the table, finds there are no business-related matters he needs to resolve. Oliver tosses around the papers, hoping to see a piece that needs his attention. However, he finds nothing. All business-related matters are solved. Now there is nothing left for him to do; his mind will wander off to Amelia. The very thought he has been working so hard to shut off.
Since Amelia left, Oliver has been using work to shift his mind from thinking about his personal life. He wishes he could have back the life he chooses in Dunfermline, an uncomplicated life that doesn’t cost him much. An experience where he could practice what he loves while pushing behind any thoughts of Montrose.
But here, it is difficult to put a blind eye to the issue surrounding him. Here, it is difficult to turn away from Montrose because here is Montrose. After his father’s burial and putting his uncle away, he had decided to talk up his father’s business as Amelia was on his side; the one person who he believed loved him. Now she is gone. He is stuck here with Sophie, the worst person he ever imagined spending a day in his life with.
She has refused to leave but instead occupies the castle as the self-proclaimed lady of the house. For him, he has been ignoring her; after all, this castle is big enough for the two of them. However, the one thing he will never make a mistake of again is to be drunk anywhere near her. He will also never allow her in or near his chamber or the study.
In the past two weeks, she kept saying that they made love, an act he didn’t remember doing. Indeed, he was drunk the night she said it happened, but he never remembered kissing her again, let alone touching. There is a knock on the door. He goes to unlock the door, and upon seeing Sophie, he walks away from the door back to his desk.
“I told you I don’t want to see you anywhere near my chambers or here.”
“Come on, love,” Sophie begins.
“Deh call me that!” Oliver snaps; he hates the sound of the word in her mouth.
“You can’t keep telling me to go away; soon, you’ll realize I love you...”
“What do you want, Sophie?” Oliver can’t keep listening to any of her lies.
Sophie smiles and walks toward him, “Halt! Don’t come any closer,” Oliver directs her in anger. “Just state your need!”
Sophie hesitates.
“Fine! If it pleases you to know, we are expecting a child. I am pregnant.”
“Whit!”
Oliver exclaimed.
Chapter 24
Amelia stands at the door of Clach chambers, waiting for him to emerge. His physician had stated that he is physically acceptable to practice every activity. For Amelia, one of the essential activities she expects him to do is to accept her proposition for a divorce. She has been gentle in pressuring him to accept the terms of the divorce, but he has been rejecting. Well, now his health is back, she has to pursue him differently – a method which she believes is suited for someone like him.
Aside from the divorce, one issue that has been bothering Amelia. Will Clach hit her again as he has previously done? Over the week, she has silently prayed that he should see reasons or at least take a turn on how he assaulted her, but the way he curses at her while he lay on his bed makes her think otherwise. It won’t have mattered much if he has finally agreed on the divorce; at least she will know that she won’t be staying in the castle anymore and means seeing less of him.
Thinking of what trespassed between her and Clach, she marvels at the amount of courage she has suddenly grown. If she is to be happy or thankful for one thing she has learned since she fled, it is never be naive in the trials of life. This was something her mother never made mention of or taught her as a little girl. Only experience can teach one about this.
When she stood up for herself to Sophie, she never imagined seeing herself do that, neither did she expect that of Clach. Even though she was scared about Clach and his action, she can recollect that when she pulled up the lamp and landed it on Clach, old pains from the past five years resurfaced.
“You are still silent about the divorce,” she begins as Clach walks out of his chambers.
“I didnae promise ye one,” he replies as he walks past her.
“I have been asking for a peaceful annulment. Don’t make me tell the council that there are other reasons involved in this.” Her words bring him to a halt.
“Is a threat, huh?” Clach chuckles. “To tell them I batter ye, huh?”
“If that will put an end to this union, I will do it. Ah’m no playing the good wife anymore.”
“Oh, Ah'm feart” he waves his hand in the air, talking in a sarcasm tone. His face gets serious.
“Look, scunner! The council does what I tell them to do; this is Arbroath, nobody cares about yer story, especially when it is from the mouth of a meager tube twally like ye! Nobody cares about how ye sink the link with ye fucking wife! Now get off ma face, I have a business to attend to!”
he says as he begins to walk away.
As painful as his words may sound, there’s truth in them. Such is Arbroath; nobody cares about your story if you are not wealthy or born to a highborn family. Does th
at mean she will stick to this man forever? Never, she needs her freedom, and she is not ready to compromise it for anything.
“How about telling them ye are incapable to father a child.”
Clach stops immediately and swings around to face Amelia from a distance.
“Leave us,” he says to his domestic servants who have been walking with him. They did as they were instructed while Clach walks back to Amelia. She could see the sudden darkness in his face; her revelation really took a toll on him.
“Whit, do ye say?” this time, his voice is a bit low.
“Just as you heard. I know you can never impregnate a woman. Your physician confirmed it, he said you knew about it. Yet you married me just to waste my youthful years!”
“Ye bastart!” Clach grabs her neck, trying to choke her while Amelia struggles with him.
Trying to save herself, she struggles for words. “if ... I die, people will come for ... you. I … already told someone to leak my death cause I know you ... will rather have me ... dead than give me ... a divorce.”
He holds her for a few minutes then finally releases her, and Amelia breathes in and out faster. For a moment, she didn’t know she would have survived it, thanks to the words she made up.
Clach breathes in and out in anger.
“You’ve grown so many nerves! So much! I will destroy ye!”
“Same way I will do to you!”
Amelia snaps.
“Give me my freedom, or I will tell everyone who you truly are. A woman batterer, a manless man, and a cheater!”
Clach looks at her in surprise.
“Aye, you’re a cheat. I have seen you many times with Sophie! The wife of your close friend! You’re a man with no dignity or self-respect! Oh ...Wait till I tell everyone what a roaster and reprobate you are!”
Clach yells out in a fury, looks at Amelia with loathing and bitterness for a second, then he walks away.
One week after her confrontation with Clach, Amelia has never felt such greater happiness in her life before; today is the last day of her marriage separation. Today, she will finally say goodbye to this castle and walk around as a single woman. Despite her happiness, she woke up feeling sick, and it has been like this for the past three days. She had wanted to see a physician, but that will be after the council meeting; nothing will stand in her way of getting her liberty.
After the council meeting is, Amelia walks out of the council room, all smiles; it is finally over. Outside the courthouse, she can hear the whispers of gossip from a woman, one of Clach’s friends, but she won’t let that bother her. She walks straight to catch up on her appointment with her physician. After a few examinations, he gave her the news, which brings her a mixed feeling of excitation, regrets, and sadness.
“You are three weeks pregnant.”
The physician says.
Chapter 25
The three-year-old young boy opened the study door and ran toward Oliver, who was busily sketching something on paper. Oliver moves his eyes from the paper down to the little boy who has run inside to stand beside him. When he’d heard the door creak open, he knew it was the boy. Since the lad had learned how to walk, he had not long after learned to open doors, especially that of the study in order to visit Oliver, which was often.
The little boy struggles to climb onto Oliver’s lap without much luck. Oliver stops his sketching, looks at him, and smiles.
“Trying to be a wee strong laddie, huh?”
Oliver picks him from the floor and sits him on the table, shuffling the paper a little to create a bit of space for him. Now closer and facing his father, the boy smiles at him and touches Oliver’s face.
“Da,” he says in a tiny voice with a smile.
Oliver kisses him on the forehead. “You know you shouldn’t disturb da when he is working, huh,” he says, smiling, which the boy does in turn.
“Where is your ma?” Oliver asks him, but the boy doesn’t answer as he is too busy touching things strewn on the table.
Oliver stands up from his chair and puts the boy back down. The wee lad tags along with Oliver as they both walk toward the door, but then one of the maids approaches.
“Ma laird, I’m sorry I let him out of ma sight.” She moves for the boy, but the little guy refuses to let go of his father’s hand.
“It’s okay, let him be.” Where is his mother? Oot?”
“Aye, ma laird.”
Hmm. Just as Oliver suspected - a mother who is never home and her son's welfare comes after her frivolities. “Has he eaten?” he asks the maid about the little boy.
“Naw, my laird.”
Oliver bends and carries the young boy, “Go eat. Da will come back for ya.” He kisses him again, and the boy kisses him in return. Oliver hands him over to the maid. “Try not to let him out of yer sight again.”
“Aye, sir,” she replies sheepishly and carries him away. Oliver sighs as he watches them walk away and returns to his study to resume his drawing.
He still cannot believe that he’s found himself in this predicament, together with Sophie and raising a son with her? It still seems so wrong. It was three years ago when she’d brought news of her pregnancy. At first, he rejected her claims, but she persisted that he was the child's father. After instructing his physician to address the matter, her pregnancy was confirmed.
To make such a stupid mistake. To let his guard down and allow Sophie back into his life. He was berating himself over his weakness every single day for three years. But what was he to do? It was the honorable thing after all; he is the father. Three years. Three years on, and he still can’t seem to forgive himself. And then there’s Max, his son, who he would do anything for. Oliver would do anything he needed to protect him and keep him safe. Dear God, he loved that lad, even though he wished Sophie was not the mother. She was. He is her son, a son whom she doesn’t seem to care for as her own.
Oliver sits in his chair, continuing his sketching to keep his mind from dwelling on his predicament. Three years ago, after the birth of Max, Sophie had been making his life in his castle unbearable, and drawing became the only way to escape. If she weren’t asking for more money, she would be nagging and threatening and ... she has made this castle become a hellish place to live.
Sophie had a way of undermining his authority when dealing with household servants and workers. Embarrassing him on more than one occasion, he was afraid that it could one day lead to losing the respect of his people, something out of the question for a laird. She continuously lashed out without considering how it reflected poorly upon him or the effect it had on their son. Damn! All of this could have been avoided if he’d followed his instincts and simply had avoided her. Even after all these years, he still couldn’t remember the night they lay together. The night Max had been conceived. Why? How? The whole situation was so confusing, and yet …
Ah, Amelia, he thinks to himself.
Things wouldn’t have turned out this way had it been Amelia that was here with him. Countless were the times he had let his imagination run; life could have been much different with her by his side. Living in peace and experiencing the joys of life together. He wonders where she is and who she’s with.
Two and a half years ago, he had gone to Arbroath to look for her after coming to terms with his feelings for Amelia. He was accompanied by the rider who rode with Amelia to Arbroath. Upon arriving in Arbroath, he didn’t find Amelia. He did, however, meet her loud and abrasive husband who told him to ‘fuck off and get out of his gaff!’ Oliver later learned from one of the servants that Amelia had divorced the jackass on the grounds of adultery and had disappeared. No one knew of her whereabouts.
As he left the castle defeated that day, he wondered how Amelia had ever ended up with a man like that in the first place. With his foul mouth and lack of all manners, a good husband would never have behaved that way to any woman, let alone his wife. The way he made mention of her, he didn’t have a single kindness for her, and certainly could not have loved her.
Where is she now? He kept asking himself as though the answer would suddenly materialize and put his mind at ease. At first, he’d thought she might have returned to her parent’s village, but remembered she’d been in dispute with them for forcing her into that horrible marriage. No, she wouldn’t be there.
Oliver couldn’t stop thinking how much better life could have been having Amelia there with him instead of wretched Sophie. It would have been so different; she would have been a better mother, more understanding toward the house staff; she would have been a caring confidant and lover, listening to him as he discussed his days of work and future ambitions. All things Sophie wasn’t. Instead, her priorities lay with that of her own wants and needs, to continually needing gratification at the expense of everyone else around her. Unfortunately, this was his reality, and he had the well-being of Max to consider. He was trapped.
“HAS MAX GONE TO BED?” Oliver asked as he sat down to eat in the dining hall. It was getting late, and Oliver had lost track of time again.
”Aye ma laird,” replied the maid. “I fed the lad his supper as well .”
Oliver nodded. It was late, and so he expected Max would already be tucked in for the night. Oliver had promised to look in on him before bedtime, but he lingered too long in his thoughts. Oh well, after his meal, he would sneak in to bid the boy goodnight and watch him breathe gently as the light of the moon shone in through the window. It wouldn’t be the first time; this had become an almost nightly routine, seeing as the boy’s mother couldn’t be bothered to put her child to bed.
Highland Lover: A Historical Highlander Steamy Romance Collection (Highland Lover Series Book 6) Page 10
