Highlander's Triangle Of Passion: A Highlander Steamy Romance Short Read (Highland Lover Series Book 3)

by Fiona Knightley

  Despite his act of kindness, he never said goodbye to her or asked Amelia to please stay. Probably his sullenness means that he didn’t want anything to do with her or that he has finally settled for Sophie. his first love.

  Looking at it from a different perspective, she needed to go back to Arbroath and fix her past. She hates to agree to it, but Sophie was right about one thing, fleeing away does not mean she is unmarried or divorced. If she had finally gotten married to Oliver while the Clach issue is unsolved, she would have been charged to crime and condemned; no woman is permitted to marry two husbands in Scotland. In this aspect, she can thank Sophie for reminding her of what she is doing wrong.

  Moreover, she never knew of this; she married at a tender age with no pertinent information about marriage. Since life with Clach was so horrible, she would go back to him, but only to ask for a divorce, which might turn out to be a difficult thing.

  Listening to the wheel's sound and the horse running on the rough road, she questions what will be in Arbroath. What will Clach do to her? What have his friends said about her? And how much gossip have they held against her?

  Back in Montrose, Oliver has a tough time. Lying halfway on his bed while drinking from a bottle of ale, he tries to assimilate the events that occurred days ago. Having Sophie around him is becoming a thorn in his flesh. He has told her to leave, but she has been giving flimsy excuses. First, she said she doesn’t want to leave knowing that they are not on the right terms, and now her reason is that she has no place to go. Besides her husband, she is not on good terms with her mother, who is now married to another man after her father's death.

  With all her excuses, he can’t order her men to throw her out of the castle. His parents, primarily his mother, had taught him to treat women with respect, and he has nurtured himself with the same standard. All he wants now is to see her leave; his heart's heaviness is becoming too much.

  Or perhaps the heaviness he is nurturing is all about Amelia. He can’t stop thinking about all she told him about being married and fleeing from an abusive husband. Why does she keep disappointing him by keeping secrets from him? He remembered she made mention of telling him something, but he never expected the discussion to be this heartbreaking.

  He takes a shot of the ale. Now Amelia is gone, leaving him alone in this castle, making him prey for Sophie. Or maybe he let himself be prey to Sophie. Oliver should have resisted hard from her kisses, but instead, he let himself be her little fool. He remembers the sadness written all over Amelia's face when she saw them. Even the plates that fell from her hands revealed how she felt.

  Aside from her wronging him, he has equally wronged her by kissing another woman, despite professing love to her. And knowing that Sophie has been one of her foes in Arbroath made it even worse and contributed to her abrupt leaving. Maybe he owed her an apology for that. Perhaps he should have begged her not to go.

  Just then, the door of his chamber opens and he could see a figure walk in. He isn’t sure if the ale he drank is causing a mirage, but he is convinced it is Amelia. The figure walks closer to him and places a kiss on his lips.

  “Amelia...” he whispers. “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s okay, my love,” she replies and kisses him more.

  Her lips and kisses taste different from what they used to be, but he doesn’t care; he just wants her. He opens his lips and drinks in all the kisses she is pouring in, rolling her tongue to hers, he moans deeply.

  “Oh. Amelia…” He calls out to her and grabs her breasts. The feeling of them is bigger, unlike before, yet feels familiar. The ale he drank is probably making him feel differently. Pushing away the thought of doubt, he bends and sucks on them, tenderly.

  “Oh…my love…Aye… I have missed you so much,” the figure says to him in a moan. Oliver understands her yearn, and he will do everything to satisfy it. Slowly, he traces his hand down her thighs and finds her female region, warm and moist, and he knows it is ready for his touch.

  Gently, he rubs her enlarged protrusion and proceeds to stroke in and out of her canal with his finger. She moans louder and kisses his lips. He increases the speed of his finger in her. She moans louder and turns him over and climbs on top of him. She quickly pulls his manhood out and puts it inside her and begins to ride him.

  “Amelia…Oh…” He moans in delight as she increases her speed. While he enjoys her work, Oliver is equally surprised at her sudden expertise in this. Amelia has never done this to him before.

  Whatever makes her become this excited, he loves it and is enjoying every part of it. That evening, they make profound love, and he drifts off to sleep, calling her name.

  Chapter 6

  The carriage stops at the frontage of Laird Clach’s castle, and a wave of doubt rushes within Amelia. Part of her is telling her to stay in the carriage and have the driver take her to another village, while the other part is telling her go inside the castle. Even if she is to leave the castle, where will she go? There is no place to go except her parents, and it will mean that she is still on the run; this is precisely what she wants to put an end to.

  “Should I take the trunk inside my lady?” the rider asks her.

  “Naw,” she says with hesitation. “I will take it from here.”

  “Okay, farewell.”

  The rider says, make a quick nod to her and rides the carriage away. Watching him disappear down the road, she speculates if her decision is the right one. With the carriage gone, there is no turning back. She is in Arbroath already, and even if she intends to run again, people will find her in no time.

  Drawing in a deep sigh for the strength of what she might encounter when she walks into that castle, she slightly prays that her fate won’t be death. While she has been on the run for few months, she never imagined that she would willingly walk into this same castle that she fled.

  She holds her trunk close; it consists of the clothes Oliver had gotten for her. After all; they are the only things she has that are related to him. Gently, she knocks on the door, once and a second time. One of Clach’s men opens the door, and his eyes widen in surprise.

  “My lady!” he says.

  Amelia didn’t know how she should reply to these greetings and not feel or look weird. Aside from thinking of what Clach and his friends will do or say about her, she had forgotten about his servants. The servants who regarded her as nothing, even being the lady of the house. Not that she cared, she is good after all without servants, as she never grew up with one.

  Quietly, she nods at him with a faint smile, and the servant could probably tell that she put it up. Slowly she walks into the castle and encounters some other attendants who are in the castle. Just as she expected, they whisper about her return amongst themselves, and it won’t be long before it reaches Clach. She doesn’t need to announce her presence, they already did it for her, and she walks into the waiting room waiting for Clach. He will be here soon.

  Amelia looked around the room; nothing much seems to have changed in the castle. She hasn’t taken a walk around it to confirm, but the aura she feels is just as similar to the one she had felt months ago.

  “Oy! Ye fucking fanny!” a voice barks behind her, before she could turn entirely to see the recognized voice. Clach walks to her quickly and slaps her heavily. He gives her another slap, which makes her lose her balance and fall on the floor.

  “C... Clach wait, please!” Amelia begs in tears.

  “Ye wee bastard!” he yells and hits her again then drags her off the floor by her hair while Amelia screams in pain.

  “What were ye thinking running, huh?!” he says as he drags her out of the waiting room. All the servants gather and watch in awe.

  “Ah'm sorry Clach, please. Clach, please,” she begs in tears while still resisting on the floor. As he pulls her by the hair, she could feel strains of blood in her hair. If she didn’t act fast, he would pull all her hair out.

  Quickly, she grabs one of the iron stands that held an ancient lamp to the grou
nd of the hallway and holds tightly to it while Clach pulls her harder by the hair. Withstanding the pains in her head, she fastens her grip on the stand. Seeing what she is doing, Clach releases her hair and reaches for her hand to loosen her grip on the frame; Amelia seizes the opportunity to kick him in the balls. Clach shouts in pain.

  She stands up quickly, takes the iron lamp from its stand, and shoves it toward him, charging herself for his next attack. She has a cut at the corner of her mouth and another beside her left eye, all were slowly dripping out blood.

  “If you dare hit me again, I swear, I will hit you with this!” Amelia says. Inside her, she silently pled that he wouldn’t come any closer. The domestic staff who have been watching were surprised at her defence.

  Slowing recovering from the pain, Clach swears under his breath, “I see ye have grown some nerve, huh?” he bites his lower lip in anger. “Before ye think of coming back, ye should have known that I would kill ya,” he says, walking menacingly towards her.

  “I'm serious Clach, deh comes any closer, I will hit with this!” Clach stops and looks at her for a minute, then burst into what seems like a burst of fake laughter.

  “See! The wheesht wee Amelia is now brave enough to talk back at me!” he says to his servants amid fake laughter.

  Amelia tightens her grip on the ancient iron lamp as she feels it shaking. Tears and blood cover her face. She murmurs silent prayers and pleads that he takes her fake threat seriously.

  “I didnae come here to fight with you; I want us to talk,” Amelia says calmly, hoping this will calm him down. “I need a divorce.”

  There is a moment of silence in the room, then Clach makes a loud laugh. “Ye fool! What makes ye think I will grant you one?”

  “I want to be free from this foul of a marriage! I cannae continue like this!”

  “Ye want to get merrit to another man, huh?”

  He comes closer. “Your cunt father gave ye to me, and now ye are ma hoore!

  I release ye whenever I want to. Now come here,” he drags her by the hand toward the stairs.

  In the direction he is going, Amelia knows he wants to take her to his chamber upstairs. No! She won’t let him force himself on her again.

  “No! Clach, please,” she cries in a plea while trying to resist his drag to the stair. “Clach, please...”

  He lands a heavy slap on her face, the ring on his finger cuts deeper into her flesh than it has done before, causing more blood.

  “Shut yer gob! Ye fucking cunt!”

  At this point, Amelia releases her hold on the iron lamp; she raises it and slams it on his head. Clach let out a loud cry of pain while holding his head. She didn’t want to use it on him before, now she has and does not regret it.

  Some of the domestic staff, who have been watching the entire time, run to their laird. The lamp has left a cut on Clach’s head, and she can see blood.

  Chapter 7

  It’s been two weeks since Amelia arrived back at Arbroath, and it feels like she has the same life she left seven months ago. However, there have been a lot of changes that have to do with her interaction with Clach. Clach has been on his sickbed as a result of the fight they had. He isn’t critically ill as the physician has stated, but he needs adequate rest to recover from the shock he had on his head the day she hit him with the lamp.

  “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 cha
mbers 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 8

  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.