A Voice from the Past

Chapter 15: Living on the Edge

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Jamie was in such an ebullient mood after I disclosed my condition. My only regret was that I was forced to tell him in the midst of a very unpleasant situation. While Jamie floated on a cloud of happiness, that was not the case with Frank. Clearly, I was not prepared for that man's reaction. It was no secret that he wanted children ... but of his own flesh and blood. His extreme response, however, proved to be so unlike him. I imagine that rubbing shoulders with that despicable brute, Randall, for such a long period of time had finally toppled Frank over the edge. I barely recognized the scholar with the soft-spoken voice.

It occurred to me that Frank now had two options before him: stay and play out the life of Black Jack, or return to his own milieu. Personally, I hoped for the latter.

My Scotsman was very attentive to me that night, for which I felt the weight of guilt. While Jamie enjoyed our intimacies, I could picture my poor Frank wallowing in self-pity. I had made my decision, but that didn't mean that I felt any less sorrow over it. Sorrow or not though, I supposed that it could never be the same between us. From now on, Jamie and my child would be my only concerns.

# # # # #

It was a blow to his pride to discover that for eight years his wife had remained barren, and now after just a few months of being intimate with that ... that Scottish bastard, she was pregnant!

Claire was right of course, he could not accept her with open arms; not while carrying another man's child. It rankled him. They had spoken previously about adoption—a million years ago it seemed. Even then, he could never reconcile himself to raising someone else's child, and especially now, when he was aware that this particular someone had carnal knowledge of his wife.

He had been prepared to take Claire back, despite her infidelity, but not the infant gestating in her womb. Then an errant thought occurred to him. Suppose this fellow should die in the very near future. After all, these were dangerous times. That would still leave the child, however. But with the Highlander out of the way, perhaps the idea of Fraser's offspring wouldn't seem nearly so repugnant to him. He had to ponder about the fact that the child would possess half of Claire's genes as well. That detail alone, made it seem more palatable.

Oh, Claire, couldn't you have run away? It was bad enough you were forced on Fraser, but did you have to fall in love with the man?

His eyes began to moisten. With Claire gone from his life, Frank had a choice of his own to make; perpetuate his charade of Jonathan Randall, or continue on at the University. Never one to make a rash decision, he'd sleep on it tonight and conjure up a plan in the morning.

. . . . .

Frank obtained little rest that night. He thought and thought until his head ached with the strain. On the one hand, he had his job in Oxfordshire ... or did he? Good lord, the dean probably had forgotten all about him by now; he'd been absent for so long. Could he even get on with another college after disappearing without a jot of explanation?

Then, there was this whole heinous Black Jack persona as well. If he fit himself securely in the captain's boots, Randall's reputation could be white-washed, leaving the man revered and not a blasted, dark stain on history, and consequently on Frank's personal ancestral tree. Being the historian that he was, it might very well behoove him to remain behind and actually participate in British and Scottish history.