For The Love Of My Scotsman (Complete!)

What Happened With Edmund

Lottie tossed in her sleep, the same nightmares that had haunted her for a year chasing her once again, holding her hostage.

Lottie stood by the window in her room at the Thorpe's manor, straining to catch a glimpse of the handsome, tall blonde man who had captured her heart. Why did he want to talk to Fidelia instead of her? What were they talking about?

"Lottie..." a man's warm voice behind her made her heart jump in her chest and she spun around.

"Edmund!" Lottie couldn't hide her smile. Her heart always fluttered when she saw those merry blue eyes, the kind grin...

But something felt off about those eyes this time. "What... What's wrong?"

Edmund advanced toward her slowly. His left cheek was red as if he had been struck. When had that happened? He'd been talking to Fidelia only a moment ago...

He took her hand in his and Lottie went a little weak in the knees, remembering the way he had emerged from the darkness on horseback in Baltimore, swooping her up into his arms and rescuing her from her kidnappers during the riot. Edmund was a good man. A man she could dedicate her whole life and heart to. In her mind, she already had.

"Run away with me," he whispered urgently. "Right now, before Fidelia or William try to stop us."

The dream began to turn dark, her memories distorting as she smiled up at him and nodded.

Foolish girl! She tried to scream at her younger self as she watched the naïve girl turn and lead the way out to the servant's exit. No one would see them leave... no one could save her now...

"No! Don't go!" Lottie screamed, sitting upright in bed, fighting against the covers that wrapped around her legs and arms, suffocating her.

"Miss?" Sally, her maid, rushed in from the side room and lit a candle. Sally screamed at the sight of her mistress, but Lottie was too caught up in the fragments of her nightmare to register what was happening.

Someone threw open the bedroom door, but they stopped just inside with a gasp. "Lottie! Stop!" they cried, lunging toward her.

Lottie brought her arm down instinctively in defense and her attacker cried out, but they caught her wrist.

"Lottie, let go."

Breathing hard, sweat dripping down her forehead and the back of her neck, Lottie blinked. "O-Octavia?" she whispered, shaking her head in confusion. Slowly, she looked down at her hand.

Her knife trembled in her grip.

Octavia held Lottie's wrist tightly in one hand, the other brought up to protect Sally, who stood frozen in place just an inch from the blade's tip. Lottie had been about to slash her own maid in the midst of her nightmare.

With a gasp, Lottie dropped the knife. Octavia caught it deftly by the blade and flipped it over to grip it by the polished cherry handle in a steady hand. Octavia let out a slow breath and smiled uneasily. "You gave us quite the fright, my dear Lottie. Are you alright? What happened?"

Lottie closed her eyes, shaking her head again. "I'm so sorry, Sally, I-I don't know—"

"T'is alright, miss," Sally said gently and she helped Lottie sit down on the bed. "I've nay seen your night terrors this bad, miss."

"Do you have night terrors often?" Octavia asked sharply.

Lottie finally opened her eyes and looked up at her friend. She had rushed to Lottie's room dressed in only her nightgown, her lovely dark curls coming loose from a side braid. Octavia's gaze pierced into Lottie and she looked as commanding as a sea captain. She must have learned that from her father, Lottie thought absently, still trying to gather her mind.