Highland Lover: A Historical Highlander Steamy Romance Collection (Highland Lover Series Book 6)

by Fiona Knightley

  Thinking back to how it all started, how they had met, he is beginning to believe that something is not quite right. Maybe she has never been authentic to him. If she could hide killing his father, what else is she capable of hiding? Now he is starting to question everything he thought he knew about her, which isn’t much in the first place. Maybe their meeting had been planned; could it be? She might have known about him and his family’s wealth, and then staged herself as a poor farm girl to win his trust and love.

  Maybe she was the mastermind behind his abduction when traveling home to his father’s funeral. Might she have faked the kidnapping by paying those men to do it, and at the same time “rescuing” him from them? If not, it wouldn’t have been easy overpowering those men by herself. How did she do it? Alternatively, who else dare hire kidnappers to bargain him away? One of his father’s rivals? Aye there are many, and he’d convinced himself one could be the hand behind his father’s murder; but now, it’s evident he was quite, quite wrong. If Amelia was indeed capable of killing his father, then obviously she must have been capable of arranging the kidnapping, too.

  Thinking about it, it wasn’t obvious why she would be roaming from one village to another just to run from her parents. I mean looking at it, if she pleaded harder to her parents, maybe they wouldn’t have married her off to the so-called man to clear a debt. Or was that also a made-up story? At this moment, he wasn’t sure of what to believe. It seems the ale has done very well in opening his eyes to something he should have seen earlier. Or is he wrong …?

  After all, she never denied the allegation, claiming Rory wasn’t telling the truth about her treatment at the hands of his father. Whose words is he to believe; Rory’s or Amelia’s? As much as Oliver is unsure of Amelia, he is more so about the lad Rory. However, his uncle proclaimed the young lad trustworthy, having accompanied the Laird on past hunting and business trips.

  That said, he did owe a debt of gratitude to the boy; if not for him, the truth about his father's death would have gone unheard. Such disappointment and inner turmoil; the fact that Amelia knows who his father was and saw him in the portrait yet never told him. It makes her untrustworthy. Maybe her identity is not as she claims, but he needs to clarify it now.

  Standing up, he heads to the library where he had left her. Upon opening the door to the library, he finds she’s no longer there. Going to her chamber, swinging the door open angrily; she isn’t there either. Where could she be? Has she fled? No! She better not. Walking briskly to find the guards...

  “Where is Amelia?”

  “Laird Elrick took her to the dungeon.”

  “Whit!” he bawls out in awe.

  The fury within him is most certainly on the verge of boiling over, unsure of who most deserves the rath; Amelia or Uncle Elrick

  Chapter 11

  Oliver marches to his uncle’s chamber with all the rage that has finally built within him. This anger is undoubtedly kind of new, and he is sure it wasn’t the influence of the ale he took early. And it wasn’t because of his early encounter with Amelia. He is still angry with her, but maybe not to this extent. Walking down the hallway leading to his uncle’s chambers, he is quite sure this anger consuming him is for Elrick – putting Amelia in that cell was never what he had planned. Certainly not until he had time to mull everything over in his head.

  Without knocking, the door is swung open. “Uncle, explain what you have done with Amelia!”

  The elderly man looked up from his writing and shot the young Laird the evil eye. “I see Dunfermline has made you lose some manners, boy! You seem to have forgotten how to knock before entering a room.”

  “Where is Amelia?” Oliver asks him, ignoring his statement.

  “Ah'm sure you have asked around. Amelia is where she's supposed to be,” Elrick says as he continues with what he was writing.

  “In the dungeon? Uncle, that’s too much! I dinnae say to put her there!”

  “I dinnae need your permission, lad!” Elrick snaps. “You mibbe the sole heir to this castle, but dinnae forget that ah'm still the elder here!”

  He is right. In this castle, after his father, comes his uncle. Trying not to sound authoritative, Oliver lowers his voice.

  “There are options other than the dungeon; it’s pure shite down there. More, we still dinnae know the full story.”

  “What other information do you need?” Now Elrick's face vividly displays the anger within him.

  “She agreed that she stabbed yer father and ye dinnae find any wrong in it?! What has that pooched wench given to you that makes yer aff yer heid!”

  “We shude know more about this incident before taking such serious actions.”

  “Oh, shut your geggie! Whit’s wrong with ye! First, you bring your father’s murder hame; now ye be defending her! Are ye not ashamed to yer actions?”

  His uncle's words hit him hard; he truly had been covering up for her, though he never intended to do it. As if his uncle's words haven’t rung true enough, he throws more words at Oliver.

  “Yer a disgrace to yer family! Even in his grave, Alexander will be forever humiliated by ye and yer actions.”

  Here is his uncle, hitting him with another truth; he wasn’t surprised, yet hurtful at the same time. His uncle has always known how to flog him with his words. Moreover, he is right; he has indeed failed his father. Probably the ale he took earlier has clouded his thoughts and sense of judgment.

  “What do ye intend to do with her?” he quietly asks his uncle.

  “I will be sending her to the council next week.”

  “Whit!” Oliver exclaims.

  Sitting in a dark corner of the empty dungeon, her only visitors a couple of rats, Amelia wonders if they feel as hungry as she. Well, at least they can freely crawl in and out of the cell without restriction. How she wishes she had such liberty.

  Why does freedom keep avoiding her?

  Looking back, it’s clear to see that most of her adult life was spent in captivity. First, her abusive marriage to the sadistic Clach, then enslaved for sex by Laird Alexander, and now with Oliver and his uncle. The only thing making the most recent different from the others is the part she’s played in creating it. Fortunately, nobody is enslaving her for sex here, at least not yet, anyway.

  For the past three days here in this dank, dark hell, no new faces have come to visit, save for the two guards stationed by the heavy iron grill door—no chance for escape. No visitation. No food. What have they planned for her? Probably starvation, or insanity, or both.

  They? Is she even sure who brought her here? Was it Oliver? Elrick? Or did both of them agree to it? She can’t correctly point the finger at whose command it is, but what does it matter? She is here already, and nothing can bring her out of it. And for the three days she’s been rotting in here, Oliver has not once visited her. Maybe he’d instructed Elrick to incarcerate her here, not able to face her himself, considering the feelings they have shared with each other.

  Was this the reason why he had left the library? Because he knew what his next action would be? She has wronged him, but it’s so sad he didn’t believe her. She wishes she had left her room to search for him. Maybe they would have spoken; maybe he would have listened to her side of the story without Elrick shouting or goading him into taking action. Or, perhaps, his uncle pushed him into bringing her here?

  Stomach rumbling with hunger, she has the feeling that she won’t survive this situation, unlike the others. Oliver is the sole reason she is in this castle; now, he has turned his back on her because of what happened. No one will save her from this.

  And there is the staff, too; she is sure that everyone in this household and castle detests her. After all, she is the outsider who killed their Laird and still wants to marry his son. She saw the expressions on their faces as she was being dragged from her room.

  It’s no use. She will die in the bowels of this castle. Her parents will never find her body, nor will they ever know the whereabouts of her remains
. Ever.

  Chapter 12

  For the past three days, Oliver has not been himself. He hasn't felt this way for years. The last time he felt this down was when he heard the news of Sophie’s marriage and also when his mother died. At this moment, Amelia's state has brought him to this shape; he doesn’t know what to do or how to react. On a typical day, he would have turned to his ale to clear his mind, but now, he hasn’t even touched it. Whatever actions he needs to take must be taken with a lucid mind, one that will favor her late father and Amelia.

  He wonders what Amelia will think of him now as she stays in the dungeon. If only she could see that it was not him or his intention to put her in the dungeon. He doesn’t know if she is telling the truth. He feels that there is more to what happened between her and his father. He has lost trust in her, but he thinks that staying in the dungeon is not the right thing.

  The dungeon is hell. His father threw men in there who had stolen from him, leaked vital information about his business dealings, or staff who have gone against him. The place is covered with dirt, dust, and it reeks of rat feces and the foul odors of people who have stayed there before. The dungeon's purpose is not to kill anyone, but fas punishment for those who have gone against the Laird. It is not the right place for a lady like Amelia.

  Oliver wonders how Amelia is coping there without food. He did ask one of the maids to take food down there to her, but she told him that it was against Laird Elrick’s commands. And Oliver knows better not to step on his uncle's toes now. Therefore, if he intends to remove her from there, he must have a valid reason whether Rory or Amelia was right, and also an idea that will prevent his uncle from taking her to the council.

  He is sure that if Amelia appears before the council, she will be condemned to death, as those men are not interested in finding out the authenticity of a crime presented to them. Before leaving for Dunfermline during his stay in Montrose, he had watched men and women who he believed were innocent being executed.

  Also, judges who are members of this council discriminate between the rich and the poor, high-born, and the low-born. They are always quick to condemn a nobody while sparing a higher-born. Moreover, his uncle is a ranked member of this council, and he is entirely confident that he will make other judges believe the story that was told by Rory in that library without giving Amelia a chance to speak.

  It is undeniable that his uncle hates Amelia. It wasn’t because she killed his brother; the hatred had been there even before the disclosure. What could she have done to inherit such hate from him without even knowing her? Or did they know each other before now? Another of his fears is that the council might dig up information about Amelia, which would lead to more chaos, which would extend to Oliver.

  He had once told his uncle that Amelia was from Dunfermline, and they both met there. However, Amelia told him that she is from East Neuk and was fleeing from her authoritative father, who wants to compel her into marrying a man to pay her father’s debts. In as much as he is beginning to question everything he knows about her, he can’t watch her die or suffer. Even her being in that dungeon disturbs his peace.

  He may be a disgrace to his family as his uncle said, but he also can’t watch Amelia suffer. What if she is telling the truth? If she is suffering in the dungeon or is condemned by the council, he will never get to the facts. He must find a way to speak with Amelia before his uncle takes any further action against her.

  Finally, summoning up the courage to face Amelia, he stands up and walks out of his chamber to the dungeon. He could hear the sound of his heart as it raced and pounded rapidly. It’s just three days, and it seems as if they haven’t seen each other for a very long time. Entering the cell, the sight of her on the dirty floor makes his heart skip in sadness. She is lying on the floor, probably sleeping while her hair covers her face. She has certainly been through a lot.

  “Amelia,” Oliver calls her name gently. Amelia, startled by his voice, sits up immediately.

  Upon seeing Oliver, her eyes soften as if she were about to cry. Even in the dim light that shines into the dungeon, Oliver can still see her face, and it looks dull and pale. She is in this state as she hasn’t eaten for three days now. Amelia stands up with tied hands and walks up to Oliver while the barred iron gate separates them. He notices how weak she is. She has changed physically. Though she is a lady with a slender physique, she appears ghostly due to a lack of food, water, and sunlight.

  “You came.” She smiles gently at him. “I thought I wouldn’t see you again.” Her words make his heart melt.

  He shouldn’t have let her stay here for this long. He opens his mouth to apologize for not being able to protect her, but he stops. He isn’t sure of her authenticity, but first, he has to make a move that will help her escape death from his uncle and the council member. He sighs.

  “Marry me,” Oliver says.

  He hopes he is treading on the right path.

  Chapter 13

  When Amelia heard her name and looked up to see Oliver in the cell, the sadness she had felt earlier about him eased. She thought he had come to visit her and hear her side of the story or even give her something to eat. However, the last thing she expected from him was to ask her to marry him. In this cell? With this massive pandemonium going on between them? He hasn’t spoken to her since he left her in the library. This is what he comes up with when he visits her? – Amelia wondered.

  Staring at him now between the iron bars, she can’t make anything out of his request. Why exactly does he want to marry her? Has he forgotten she is the woman that pulled a knife to the chest of his father and plunged it in, killing him?

  “I can’t make anything out of your request. What do you mean by marrying you?”

  He heaves. “Soon, you will be meeting with the council as initiated by my uncle. However, marriage is the only thing that can save you.”

  She is in surprise. “I...I thought it was you who gave the order to bring me here,” she replies in amazement.

  His expression changes. “You owe me the truth and a lot of explanations. Putting you here or taking you to the council would prevent me from getting my answers. Being put in the dungeon, awaiting the council was my uncle's instructions.”

  Realizing that she has judged him even amidst her crime, guilt flows within her.

  “Ah, 'm sorry,” she says quietly, not knowing quite what she is apologizing for; those are the only words that come to mind.

  Oliver didn’t reply to this apology; instead, he went straight to his next statement of what brought him there.

  “Aside been married to me, you also have to be pregnant. I mean fake pregnancy,” Oliver emphasizes. When she thought she had heard it all, Amelia is presented with yet another wild idea.

  “This also has to do with the council?”

  “Aye,” he replies.

  Even though she won't know where all this will lead, or the implications, the assurance in his voice sounds real. If he wants to save her from the council of whom or what she knows nothing about, she just has to trust him.

  “Okay,” she says quietly. Oliver looks at her for a minute without a word, and she doesn’t understand the emotion she sees in it. This situation must have been hard for him to makeup, a position where you have to save your father’s killer, even when you don’t believe her. She silently prays he doesn’t seem to hate himself more for what he did.

  Oliver looks away from her and walks to one of the guards standing a few feet away. “Open the gate,” he says to them.

  The guard looks at him with questioning eyes, “Ma Laird?” However, seeing that Oliver’s face is direct, he understands that Oliver means business. “Aye, sir,” the guard adds immediately and proceeds to do what he was instructed to do.

  OLIVER enters Elrick’s chambers after he had knocked and was ushered in. His uncle looks at him with questioning eyes, and then slowly, Amelia, who has been hiding behind Oliver, comes out. Just then, Elrick's face rises in ire.

  “How dare
you! Ye have no right!” he yells with anger.

  “Please listen to me, Sir. I can explain why I did it,” Oliver says to him with a calm voice.

  “There is nothing to explain! It was ma order to have her there. She is...”

  “She is pregnant. I can’t leave her in that dungeon.” Oliver's words hit Elrickt like a blow to his chin, which cut him off. Knowing what he just did, he immediately continues to help him embrace all the shock. “I should have told you this before; we were engaged in Dunfermline. Father’s death paused the wedding.”

  Trying to digest all the words his nephew just spattered made Elrick breathe in rage. “Diteit! How can you bring dishonor to this house! Haven’t you done enough damage already?”

  Oliver remains silent, nothing he will say now will ease the tension or the bitterness that runs through his uncle’s veins. One thing he is sure of at this moment is that Amelia is never going back to that cell.

  “Get out!” the elderly man roars.

  The day of the council meeting finally arrives. The courtroom is overflowing with onlookers. This is something Oliver could never have imagined. It turns out many of the villagers were aware and interested in this case; bad news indeed spreads fast. Although his father was a popular member of the community and the council, he also held significant influence within the community. Moreover, everyone is interested in seeing who the alleged murderer of Laird Alexander Adair is.

  Amelia stands in the dock where every alleged criminal or offender once stood. At the front of the platform sits the so-called ‘men of honor,’ who are specifically men of wealth, and they were dressed entirely in black, including his uncle.