Forget Me Not, My Scottish Love by Allie Palomino

Chapter Eighteen

Another fortnight had passed.  Abby had began crying without ease one morning, and she called for Bess claiming head pain.

“Abby, dear, what’s the matter?”

Abby turned from the bed when Bess entered the room.  Bess inhaled sharply.

“What occurred?  Did ye fall?”  Bess rushed forward taking the blood-soaked dress from Abby.

“Nay.”

The whisper was soft and laced with so much pain, Bess’ eyes began to tear.

Abby’s voice was hollow.  “I woke up to the blood and pain.  Cameron had already left, thankfully.”

“Oh, dearie.  I am so sorry.”

Bess hugged Abby, but Abby only allowed it for a moment.  She took herself out of the embrace and turned her back to Bess. 

“I don’t deserve your pity or sorrow.  I deserve every bit of the pain I feel.”

Her voice was so faint, Bess had to strain to hear it. 

“No pity, Abby.  Sorrow, yes.  Ye did nothin’ wrong, lass.  ‘Tis unfortunate to lose a bairn like this, but not unusual.”

Abby began to sob.  It came from her very soul.  Bess walked over and hugged her.  Abby turned around and sobbed into the older woman’s ample bossom.

“Shhh, dearie.  ‘Twill be all well.  Ye will be able to try again soon.”  Bess held Abby as the she wept. 

“I lost our baby.  Cameron’s baby.  He didn’t even know.”  Her voice rose in pitch.  She looked up at Bess, and her green eyes were so light in color from the tears, Bess could see specks of yellow.  “What have I done?  He was not able to be happy even for a moment.  I took that from him, and from them,” she nodded to the door.

Bess brought her in closer.  “Ye did well, sweet Abby.  Ye wanted to spare them pain, an’ now ye’re experiencing what ye spared them, all by yerself.”

Bess passed a hand through Abby’s hair.

“‘Tis my fault.  Mayhap I ate a disagreeable food, or didna rest enough.”  She inhaled shakily.  “‘Tis my fault!”

Abby grabbed the dress and flung it into the hearth.

“Now I cannot tell him.  It would break his heart twice.  I will not do that to him or them.”

Bess walked over to her and grabbed her hands.  “Ye must, love.  Ye cannot shoulder this burden alone.”

Abby shook her head as they heard a knock.  The door opened suddenly and Amy walked in.

“Abby?  What has ye upset?”

Abby’s sobs broke free and she threw herself on the bed.

“Bess?”

Bess shook her head, her eyes full of sorrow and tears.  Abby turned around, and told Amy.  She hugged her waist.  The moment Amy heard, she moved over to Abby and hugged her.  Amy looked over to Bess and nodded.  The older woman left the room.

“I’m so sorry, Abby,” Amy said, crying along with her.  Although it did not sit well with Amy, she agreed to keep it a secret.

Should would’ve promised Abby anything to get the angel to stop crying.

Abby was no better two weeks later.  Much to everyone’s unease, Abby had grown thin, distrustful, and frightened.  She was unpredictable.

“Abby, darling, ye must eat more,” Alice said gently, worried about her.

“I doona have an appetite, Alice,” Abby snapped.

Everyone looked around at each other.  Abby’s new mood was not an easy adjustment. 

Abby looked towards her left and saw something or someone move down the hall towards the kitchen.  She jumped up and inched back.  Cameron stood up.

“What’s the matter?” he asked her.  Her face had gone paler. 

“N-nothing,” she said frightened, and sat by the fire to knit.

“What is the matter with her?  She’s not been acting like herself now, for nearly weeks!” Alice said, bewildered.

Cameron sat back down slowly and took a deep breath.  “She’s been seeing the abnormalities again.  She doesna sleep.  She doesna want to eat.  We barely speak.”

“It’s her.  It’s that wench,” Alice said, scathingly.  “Toss her out!”

“Mother, Abby acted much the same before Gillyanne returned,” Cameron said, in a low voice that echoed his sadness.

“Ye think her mind is breaking again, doona ye,” Amy said, her mouth agape.

Cameron sighed.  He looked over to Abby, sadness in his eyes.

“I doona know.  She’s my wife, damn it, and I love her, but she’s been separating herself from me and from everyone.  She’s aloof and frightened,” he said, grief on his face.  “She’s reed thin.”

He got up and walked over to her.  “Abby, would ye like some fruit,” he asked, squatting down in front of her.

She looked up at him, confused.  “What did you say?” she asked in a weak voice.

“Would ye like some fruit,” he asked, looking into her bleak green eyes.  She wasn’t even returning his gaze.  She was starring passed him.

“Nay,” she said and continued talking to Gillyanne while knitting.

Cameron sighed and returned to the table.

“I need air and a good fight,” he said and left the great room.  Aidan and Keith followed him.

Keith and Aidan saw Cameron wielding his sword.  Some of the warriors came over to him, anxious to spar with their laird.  The first came up to Cameron and was easily defeated.  A second one challenged Cameron, but gave Cameron another easy win. 

A third stepped up.  Cameron’s head was not in the sparring, though.  Images of Abby growing weak and thin flashed before him.  He remembered her cries when she was asleep.  She said she saw things move.  She cried about the marriage and the threat of annulment.  She mentioned a bairn, which confused him.  What broke him was his inability to protect her from her mental torment. 

His fear that he was losing her.

His fear that she was losing her mind.

His mind reeled.

Cameron’s muscled chest glistened with sweat.  He gritted his teeth and grunted loudly, pushing himself to extraordinary limits. 

The warrior was on the floor, Cameron’s sword at the warrior’s neck.

“Cameron!  That’s enough!” Keith yelled in his face.

Cameron shook his head in an effort to clear it.  He saw the warrior on the floor, whose eyes were wide.  Cameron withdrew his sword, helped the warrior up, and strode to the castle. 

Later that evening, when everyone had gone to sleep, he sat down before the hearth and drank.  He enjoyed the solitude. 

“Here, let me pour ye some more,” Gillyanne said, pouring the strong ale into his cup.

Cameron looked up and saw Gillyanne smiling.  He took a long swallow again.  She filled it up again and took a seat.  She took out her needlework.

“Abby taught me how to knit.  Such a domestic activity,” she said laughing.  “Never thought I’d be doing this, did ye?” she asked, and looked up at him from her needlework.  She laughed again.  “Yes, I didna think I’d be doing this, either.”

He kept drinking and stared at her.

“Where’s my wife?” he asked brusquely, not caring for small talk.

“Alice and Amy took her to the kitchens.  They thought mayhap Bess could help her keep something down in her stomach,” she said, continuing to knit.

“I canna come to terms with this change in ye, Gillyanne.  ‘Tis almost too much to believe,” he said sarcastically, leering at her.  He took another long swallow.  She quickly got up and poured him some more.  “Do ye like serving me, Gillyanne?”

She smiled as she sat back down.

“Ye know I did once,” she said, stealing a sly glance upwards at him.  “I know ye’re worried about Abby- so am I.  Most of the time she mumbles about odd things.  Then she complains about seeing things that are’na there,” Gillyanne said.  She moved to the edge of her seat and laid her needlework on the chest.  She rested her elbows on her knees.  Sincerity glowed from her blue eyes.

“She worries me,” she said, looking down in consternation and looked up again.  Cameron watched her carefully over the rim of his goblet.  His sight grew blurry and he blinked to clear it.

“She’s been so kind to me, when all I had done was treat her badly,” she paused and took a deep breath, letting it rush out.  “I know ‘tis difficult for ye and everyone else to believe that I have changed, but I have.  I consider Abby my friend and I worry about her.  As of late…” she said but stopped.

“As of late, what?”

His mind was spinning. 

“I doona know how to say this, Cameron,” she said and sighed.  Her brows furled and her forehead wrinkled as she inhaled a steadying breath.  She looked at him and he thought he saw her eyes watery.  He grew anxious.

“As of late, she’s been saying horrible things.  She’s paranoid, Cameron,” she said and leaned back in the chair.

“Like what?” he said in a throaty voice.

“I truly believe she’s losing her reason,” she said softly.  She pursed her lips together and continued.  “She believes that ye doona love her and that ye want the marriage annulled.  She has even said that ye are working with her father against her,” she said, shaking her head and biting her lip.

“Why would she say that?”  He watched her closely.  “Ye wouldna be telling her lies, would ye?”

She scoffed.  Cameron blinked seeing two of her.  He let out a long breath and drank the remaining ale.  She slowly got up and refilled it.

“I doona want anymore,” he snapped.

“Nay, Cameron, ye’ll need more, for I’ve not finished telling ye all.”  Slowly she sat down again. 

His eyes grew more unfocused, so he shook his head.

“Is something the matter, Cameron?” she asked, concerned.  “Are ye feeling all right?”

“This is strong ale, ‘tis all,” he said, taking another drink.

Gillyanne nodded and continued.

“She not only talks about those matters, but about something darker.  I doona want to hurt ye, Cameron, but she speaks about taking her life,” she said and looked up, tears in her eyes.

He took a long swig, looking at her hard.

“How long has she been speaking like this?”

“For nearly a fortnight.  Doona ye recall when she began her hysterics, crying for no apparent reason?”

“Why has it taken ye so long to tell me?” he said in a hard voice.

“I’m the only one she trusts, Cameron!” she said in a pleading voice.  “Despite what ye and yer family may think about me, I want to help her.  I care for her!  How can I so casually push aside the trust that she only gives to me?  She sleeps in the adjoining chamber, Cameron.  She willna even get into bed with ye!” Gillyanne said in a rush.  “I was scared, so I kept the secret, but I can no longer.  I am unable to convince her now, not to take her own life.  She means to do it, Cameron, and soon,” she said, tears spilling down her cheek.

“She has told me none of this,” Cameron said, drinking more.

“Of course she wouldna.  She distrusts all of ye.  I canna explain why but I can only accept it and help her.  I’m afraid that my influence on her is fading,” Gillyanne said in a bare whisper.  He saw the tears falling down her cheeks.  His vision grew dim.

“Cameron, are ye all right?  Do ye want me to get ye some bread to lessen the effect of the ale?” she asked.

He nodded, not able to speak.  Gillyanne rose and left the room. 

His Abby was thinking about taking her life?  She trusted no one save for Gillyanne? 

That scared him.

He heard a noise and looked up.  There were three people there.  No, wait, one?  Cameron closed his eyes and opened them again.  He saw Abby’s silhouette.  Two of them.  He couldn’t quite see her features.

“Abby?” he asked hoarsely.

She nodded, looking downcast.

“Come here, my love.  Sit with me,” he said, his vision blurred.  He tried to focus on her face, her beautiful face, but it was difficult.  His eyes could not focus on anything and were sensitive to the roaring fire. 

She sat on his lap and he inhaled deeply.  She smelled good to him but something in her scent was off.  Breathing deeply again, her sweet fragrance floated to his nose and his body recognized it.

“I’m scared, Cameron,” she said, lowly.

“Shh, my love, I’ll take care of ye,” he said, running his hand on her head.  He tried to focus on her lips.  “I love ye.” 

Despite the fear and tense situation, he grew hard.  He hadn’t made love to his wife in over a month.

“I love ye, Cameron.”

Her words were garbled, as if they came from a distance underwater, but he understood them nonetheless.

Abby kissed him and it was Heaven.  He returned her kiss with all the built-up passion from a month without her.  She turned so that her legs were wrapped around his hips, straddling Cameron.

“Make love to me, Cameron.  I’m desperate for yer touch!” she said, pleading and bounced on him.  Cameron threw his head back and moved his plaid up.  Abby hiked her skirt up.  She was poised above him, and ready to guide him in.

“Cameron?”

They froze.

Cameron tried to focus but he couldn’t.  Every time he chased a thought, it ran faster.  Abby raised her arms, although it looked more like she had eight arms, and hid her face with her hair.  Even though his head was swimming and his eyes were blurry, he knew the voice didn’t come from the woman on his lap.  Puzzled, he looked at the stairs. 

An angel stood there.

“Cameron?” she asked again.

“Abby?”  He looked at the woman on his lap again. 

Cameron was confused.  He couldn’t see clearly and couldn’t focus.  He looked again at the stairs to where the angel stood.

“Cameron, how could you!” the angel said and he saw her run from the room.

“I doona…under…shtand…”

Cameron laid his head back and passed out.

Gillyanne rose from him, smoothed her skirts, and smiled.  Hurriedly, she ran for the back staircase and went to her room to await Abby, who would yet again, tell her another woeful story.

Several moments later, Keith walked by. 

“Cameron?”

Cameron woke up slowly.

“Cameron, ye drank too much.  Ye’re asleep in the chair.”

“What?” Cameron asked, his voice thick and slurred.  He could barely open his eyes.  “Why are ye yellin’?”

“Come on, man, I’ll help ye upstairs,” Keith said and placed Cameron’s arm around his shoulders.  Cameron walked unsteadily. 

“Easy.”

Keith helped Cameron into bed and stared down at his brother.  If things didn’t improve between him and Abby, his brother would continue on a downward road.

“Can you believe that, Gillyanne?  He was about to make love to another!” Abby wailed.

“Did ye see who?” Gillyanne asked, smoothing back her friend’s hair.

“No!  She smartly kept her face averted.  Does it matter who it was?  I told you he’s been adulterous!  This is another woman, in the line of many, I’m sure,” she said weeping.

“It’ll be all right, Abby,” Gillyanne said comfortingly.

“I cannot trust anyone.”

“Ye can trust me, Abby.”

Abby nodded her head.  “You’re the only one.  Everyone has deceived me!  They’re working with Cameron against me.  With my father, I just know it.  Why, Gillyanne, why?”

“I doona know, sweeting.”

“You’re right, you know.  I cannot return to my father, and they all want me to,” Abby said in an anguished whisper. 

“I’ll help ye anyway I can.”

“I don’t know!  I feel so alone and fraught.”

Amy was walking passed, and stopped to listen as the door was ajar.  Why was Abby fraught?

“Ye have to trust more people, Abby.  They’re not out to harm ye.  They love ye,” Gillyanne said.

“Nay!  They do not.  They aim to take me back to my abusive father!”

“All will be well, Abby.  But I know that the MacPhersons doona mean to hurt ye nor to see ye leave here.”

“Stop!” Abby said, covering her ears.  “Gillyanne, don’t you turn traitor against me, too!”  Tears fell from her eyes.

“Shh… all right.  We willna talk about that.  Here, drink this to calm down,” Gillyanne said, handing a cup of tea to Abby.

“You’re the only one I can trust.  I have nothing left.”  Abby sipped the tea.

Amy had heard enough and left.  Maybe Gillyanne was not deceiving them.  Amy slowly made her way down the hall.

Once Gillyanne saw Amy leave, she spoke again.

“Ye have me, and I’m here for ye.  I understand why ye doona trust them, and ye shouldna.  Drink all of that, yes?  Warm tea always helps me sleep and these days ye ar’na eating anything.”

“I’m scared.  What if my mind is not well?”

“Shh…I’ll stay here a little longer,” Gillyanne said gently.

Smiling.