#byron and eleora: we're getting married and having a baby!

[blueshistorysims]

Late July 1925, London, England

“I’d like to go back to Scotland,” Montgomery mused, combing his fingers through Samira’s hair as she laid her head on his bare chest. “Fuckin’ tired of England. I’m ready to go home.”

Samira nodded. “Always wanted to go to Scotland. See the Highlands. That’s where you’re from, right?”

“Aye. North Perthshire, was born near the clan seat before me family moved to Edinburgh when I was ten.” He swallowed. “Would ya like to come with me?”

Samira was quiet. “Leave London society and be a housewife?”

He frowned, sitting as she slipped behind him. “I’d never force ya to do anything ya dinna want to.”

“I know that. …I don’t mind being your mistress—oh, don’t make that face. It’s what I am. Your mistress.”

“Mistress to who?”

“You’re still in love with Edeline.” It wasn’t an accusation. It was a fact. “And I know you’re in love with Byron—even if he doesn’t realize it… or return it. I know you’re not ready to be married again, but I know you love me as well. And I’m content to be your mistress in the meanwhile.”

Montgomery sighed, closing his eyes. “Sometimes I think I’m the most selfish man in the world. I dinna deserve any of this.”

Samira hugged his body tighter. “You’re speaking nonsense. I don’t fuck selfish people. They always focus on themselves and not their lover. You certainly do not.”

He snorted at her bluntness. “...I feel guilty so often. What’d Edeline think of me?”

“Well, would you have acted on your attraction to Byron if she lived?”

“I wasn’t aware I was attracted to him until we met again. Perhaps I’d ‘ve found him attractive but never acted on it. I dinna ken.”

“Then why should you feel guilty?”

“He’s still me brother-in-law.”

“Men marry their dead brother’s wives all the time.”

“That’s different.”

“Is it?”

“I miss her so much,” he whispered. That wasn’t a confession you were supposed to tell your lover. “I was… lost when she died. I dinda know what to do, what the point of livin’ was. …On the first anniversary of her death, I was in Greece, had spent the day in the ruins of the Temple of Poseidon in Sounion. Standin’ on the cliffs, overlooking the ocean… considered jumpin’ off. To be with her. End me misery. In the end, I was uh too much of fuckin’ coward to do it, so I walked back to me hotel room and drank ‘til I passed out. It wasn’t the first time I’d considered suicide. Or the last.” He sighed, sniffling. “I’ve never told anyone that. I’m just… so afraid of bein’ alone.”

Samira rubbed his back gently as he bowed his head, near tears. “You’re not alone. You have your family, friends who care about you, patients who rely on you. And of course, you have me. I have you in my claws, you’re not getting away from me anytime soon,” she added, chuckling. 

Montgomery pulled her into his lap and buried his face in her neck. “I love ya,” he whispered. 

She nodded. “...I’m going to India after Byron and Eleora’s wedding. I think my parents would actually like you considering you hate England, hate the empire, and support the independence of your own nation. You’re everything they would want in a husband for me, except that you’re white and Christian.”

He chuckled.

“I want to show you the real India—you haven’t lived until you’ve tried my Ājī’s Basundi.”

“If ya’ll have me, mo ghràdh.”