Forbidden Valentines Read online

  Forbidden Valentines: Three Short Regency Romances

  Isabella Hargreaves

  Published by History in Focus, 2016.

  Copyright © Isabella Hargreaves 2016

  ISBN 9780994435033

  Except for use in any review, no part of this book may be used,

  reproduced, or transmitted in whole or in part, in any form, or by any

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  without the prior written permission of the author.

  This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade

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  author’s prior consent. If you would like to share this book with another person,

  please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. Thank you for respecting the

  hard work of this author.

  This novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are

  either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

  Find out more about Isabella Hargreaves and her books at

  www.isabellahargreaves.com

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Foreword

  Gideon

  Gabriel

  George

  About the Author

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  Foreword

  This anthology is my first foray into writing valentine-related short stories and each is united by the theme of forbidden love.

  My thanks to my wonderful writing friends, Anthea Jones and Kendall Talbot, for their valuable comments on the drafts, and to Lauren McKellar for editing the manuscript.

  I hope you enjoy reading these stories as much as I enjoyed writing them.

  Isabella Hargreaves

  Gideon

  14 February 1814

  On 14 February 1814, Caroline Medworth decided to commit social suicide.

  For miles, she had idly looked out the window of the carriage, twisting a strand of auburn hair around her index finger, wishing she was anywhere else but listening to her snobby cousin Rachel recite the advantages of Caroline’s forthcoming marriage to Baron Strathmorie. Every so often, her father would add his voice in support of Rachel’s.

  They were travelling to the baron’s estate in Scotland for the wedding.

  It wasn’t the baron’s first marriage or his second or even his third. And evil rumour had whispered in her ear that he’d had scores of mistresses in his seventy years.

  And now he wanted her as his fourth wife!

  Her father was a wealthy, social-climbing merchant with his own country estate, growing richer by the year. It was her job to catch a title so his grandchildren would be members of the aristocracy.

  That was fine, except the only titled person willing to offer for her was ... hideous. Her father and everyone else in her family were delighted.

  She was not.

  Her skin crawled at the thought.

  Then, out the window, Caroline saw something she had never expected, no matter how much she had wished otherwise.

  Cousin Rachel’s excited voice prattled on. “When you are Lady Strathmorie you will—”

  “Stop the carriage!” Caroline screeched.

  Her companions looked at her in confusion.

  “Whatever for, cousin?”

  Her heart pounding as though she was dancing the Roger de Coverley, Caroline’s mind raced to find a believable reason. “I don’t feel well.” She clutched a hand to her midriff. “My stomach.”

  “I hope you will recover before the wedding,” her father said.

  Cousin Rachel leant over her, flapping a handkerchief in Caroline’s face. “We should halt at the next inn.”

  Caroline’s stout father hoisted himself forward in his seat to rap on the ceiling and called for the driver to stop ahead.

  Caroline leant back against the soft leather squab as her cousin instructed. Within minutes, she felt the carriage lurch off the high street.

  She dared to raise her head and open her eyes. The wide driveway of a half-timbered inn was busy with carriages entering and leaving.

  Excellent!

  ***

  As soon as Caroline could extract herself from her cousin’s zealous, fluttering concern, she left the private dining room of the Bull and Pig Inn on the pretext of visiting the ladies’ withdrawing room.

  Instead of making her way there, she walked right out the rear door into a courtyard where lines of washed sheets hung, then hurried along the alleyway beside the inn until she reached the main street of the town, busy with market day.

  Swiftly, she ducked down a side street to avoid the crowd and kept walking. She knew exactly where she wanted to be. She looked over her shoulder repeatedly in case she was being followed. Her heart raced, pounding in her chest, its beat loud in her ears.

  At the edge of the town on the London road stood a modest whitewashed house set back from the roadway. To one side stood a large low-set building, open at the front. Inside, the fire of a forge burnt brightly. Under a spreading tree nearby stood a grey draught horse awaiting its shoeing.

  At the forge inside, a boy worked the bellows. A tall young smithy, dressed in workman’s garb with rolled up sleeves and a leather apron, tempered a horse shoe. With each blow of his hammer the muscles of his arms rippled. His curling brown hair and chiselled features made him look like an Adonis. Even after all this time.

  Caroline swallowed against the lump in her throat. She hadn’t imagined what she’d seen from the carriage window. It was him.

  Mesmerised, Caroline took a step across the road towards Gideon—towards her past and her longed-for future.

  Loud yelling and vehement swearing broke out as a London-bound coach veered to miss her, its driver and outside passengers uniting their voices in condemnation.

  Startled, Caroline staggered back to the verge, clutching her pounding chest.

  When she looked again at the blacksmith’s shop she saw the commotion had interrupted Gideon’s work. The horseshoe was now forgotten and cooling on the anvil.

  Gideon, with a hammer in his hand, stood immobile in the doorway.

  Staring.

  At her.

  A look of astonishment, open-mouthed and wide-eyed, froze on his face. He took a step forward then stopped.

  Caroline watched him in fascination, blood beating in her ears. He was bigger, stronger, more riveting than before.

  With deep breaths to calm her racing pulse, Caroline searched for an opening in the traffic on the busy road from London, then ran across its cobbled pavement.

  On the other side of the roadway, soft green grass beneath her half-boots rushed by as a blur as she hastened towards the blacksmith’s shed.

  A sob escaped her throat. Her eyes misted with tears.

  Gideon took another step and halted. The hammer dropped from his grip.

  Caroline covered the last few yards towards him. She yearned to throw herself into his muscle-corded arms, to feel the love and comfort she had felt five years before.

  Before they were wrenched from each other.

  When Gideon made no further move to meet her, didn’t raise his arms to envelope her, didn’t smile to greet her, her confidence and momentum faltered.

  She stood frozen, just three feet from his tall, muscular form. From his gentle touch. From his loving embrace.

  The bubble of joy in her body evaporated. Her breath rasped in her throat. Two fat tears overflowed onto her flushed cheeks.

  “Gideon,” she whispered through numb lips.

  “Yes.” His baritone voice was gruff, his body stiff, his face frowning in confusion.

  Her voice quavered. “Don’t you know who I am?”

  His clear blue eyes pierced hers as though to decipher her soul. “I don’t dare say in case I’m wrong,” he murmured.

  Her shoulders sagged with relief. “Then you do know me ... Caroline.” She sighed. “I’ve found you at last.”

  “You were looking?” He sounded confused, hopeful.

  Her heartbeat juddered to a halt. “I’ve never stopped! How could you doubt me?”

  “I never dared to hope.”

  Caroline slowly, tentatively reached out her hand to touch him. Her fingers trembled as the distance between them narrowed.

  She touched his cheek. The rough bristles of his face sent tingling sparks along her skin. Her hand cupped his cheek, his chiselled jaw. So familiar, so loved, so ... precious.

  His tanned and calloused hand closed over hers. His eyes darkened to cobalt.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “I was on my way to my fiancé’s estate to be married.”

  His head jerked back from her hand. “Did you come here to taunt me with what I can’t have?”

  “You don’t understand. I don’t want to marry him.”

  A frown marred his brow. “If you are engaged to marry, then you must.”

  Defiance bubbled in her veins. “I shan’t!” Nausea rose from her stomach at the thought. Never! “Not now I’ve found you.”

  He shook his head. “You are duty-bound to do so.”

  “He is a vile, lecherous old roué. Just the touch of his hand on my arm when he proposed made my skin crawl.” She rubbed her forearm. “Strathmorie’s teeth are as yellow with age as those of a horse.” Caroline tossed her head towards t
he animal tied under the tree. “A rasp wouldn’t fix what is wrong with them. And his breath!”

  Gideon gave a bark of laughter, then gathered her into his arms. “That’s the Caroline I remember of old. You haven’t changed in that way at least.”

  “I haven’t changed.” She looked down and pinched her sprig muslin gown. “Only my clothes, for the London Season, are more expensive.” She lifted her face to kiss him. His lips met hers as though searching for their past passion, then finding it, escalating until all that was left was a raw aching need to eradicate their loveless separation.

  Caroline came to her senses first. Very soon, if not already, her cousin Rachel would create a frantic scene at the Bull and Pig Inn after she discovered Caroline was missing.

  Caroline glanced over Gideon’s shoulder at the busy traffic beyond. What she saw made her back away from Gideon into the shadows of his smithy’s shed.

  She ducked behind the front wall and stood frozen with her hands clamped against it, blood pounding in her temples. Waves of heat radiating from the forge could not warm her.

  Gideon followed, a crease dividing his brows. “What is it?” He threw a look over his shoulder. “Who did you see?”

  “My father’s carriage, with cousin Rachel leaning out the window, coming along the London road. She’s looking for me already.”

  Gideon took her into his arms, his warm, secure embrace. “I’ll protect you if needs be, but I don’t think she saw you.”

  “Eventually they’ll find me, wherever I go. I’ll never be free from them.” She burrowed into the safe harbour of his arms, as if that would shelter her.

  “Yes, you will. I’ll protect you.”

  “For how long? Only until they track us down.”

  “If they do, they won’t be able to take you anywhere.” His voice was steely. A fierce frown crossed his forehead.

  “How can you stop them?”

  “You’re of age—we’ll be married. They can’t take you then.”

  Her heartbeat slowed while she strove to comprehend his meaning, then it raced into triple time. She hugged him hard. “You don’t know how often I have dreamt of that.”

  “So have I,” he murmured against her temple. “I have never forgotten you. I love you still.”

  “Where will I stay while the banns are read? How can I hide from my family in the meantime? When I don’t arrive at his home, the baron will be looking for me as well.”

  With a grim mouth and determined face, Gideon said, “There won’t be any banns read. And you won’t be hiding here. You’re in Scotland now so we can be married immediately.”

  Caroline clutched his arm. “How?” she breathed.

  “By public affirmation and ...”

  “And what?”

  Gideon flushed. “And because you are sure to be pursued by your family and fiancé ... by consummation.” He pulled his leather apron from his body revealing a cambric shirt clinging to his muscled chest.

  Caroline longed to smooth her hand over its breadth. “You would do this for me?” she asked.

  “I would do anything for you, but this would be for me too.” His voice was deep and gentle.

  Warmth flooded her body. “Yes. Now. Let us marry at once.”

  A distracted look appeared on Gideon’s face. “We need a witness.” He grasped her hand and led her from the rear of the forge along a gravelled path. “Come, you should wait with my mother in the house.”

  Entering through the front door, Gideon called, “Mother, come quickly. She’s found me.”

  Mrs Wetherton appeared from a doorway in the hall. Somewhat older and greyer, she was just the same pleasant-looking woman Caroline remembered from the time when Gideon’s father was their estate manager in Essex, five years ago.

  The lady hurried forward to greet Caroline, a look of welcome on her face.

  “We’re to be married, Mother, right now,” Gideon said.

  “Why the hurry?” she asked.

  “Caroline’s father has engaged her to that disreputable old rogue Baron Strathmorie.”

  Mrs Wetherton gasped. “No! I’ve heard terrible stories about him.”

  Gideon nodded. “Take Caroline into the parlour while I wash and change.” He hurried towards the stairs.

  “Come, Caroline.” Mrs Wetherton smiled and held out her hand to show Caroline the way.

  “You aren’t shocked, Mrs Wetherton, that Gideon wants to marry me?”

  “Not in the least. He’s spent the last five years trying to forget you and has failed completely. When your father found you both in each other’s arms and sent Gideon away, he thought he’d lost you forever.”

  How I ached for him. “It was wrong of my father to send you both away. I tried to discover where you went, but none of the servants knew, and I was sent to boarding school in Bath immediately. Until today I had no idea what happened to Gideon.”

  “We came here to my brother’s home and Gideon became his apprentice. After his passing, Gideon took over the business. It’s not the career that Gideon’s father and I had hoped for him, but he seems content—except for fretting over you, that is.” She smiled.

  Caroline’s heart beat stronger. He loved her still. To have had her devotion reciprocated was everything she could have ever hoped for.

  Gideon soon returned. He strode to Caroline, his eyes earnest. “Are you sure, Caroline, that this is what you want?

  She nodded and would have stepped into his embrace, but he held her at arm’s length. “This is forever. A blacksmith’s income is a pittance compared with that of Baron Strathmorie or your father.”

  “I would rather a poor life with you than a wealthy one with him! How can you doubt me?”

  Gideon raised an eyebrow. “How will you fill your days? There are no grand balls and social events here.”

  “With housekeeping, of course. And gardening. There are so many tasks I could do.”

  “I can move in with my sister’s family, I’m sure,” Mrs Wetherton said.

  “That is not necessary. Please stay with us. I would prefer it,” Caroline said.

  Gideon nodded agreement and turned to Caroline. “If you’re still wanting to marry me, we’d best get on.”

  Caroline replied, “My wishes haven’t changed in all these years. They won’t change now.”

  Gideon took her hand and said, “Will you witness our marriage, Mother?”

  Mrs Wetherton looked at them, a sweet smile on her face.

  Gideon’s mellow deep voice recited his vows. “I take you, Caroline Medworth, to be my soul mate and wife for the remainder of my life. I will love you, adore you and protect you, for evermore.”

  Tears filled Caroline’s eyes and her throat tightened. “And I take you, Gideon Wetherton, to be my beloved husband and soul mate. I’ll love and care for you all the days of my life.”

  They were husband and wife. Caroline sighed, her heart full with love.

  Gideon took a step towards her. His hands smoothed her hair, her cheeks. He lifted her chin with his thumbs and pressed his warm lips to hers. She sighed and opened her mouth beneath his.

  Mrs Wetherton muttered about her cooking and hurried from the room.

  Gideon took Caroline’s hand in his and led her upstairs into a spacious chamber with a smattering of furniture against its white-washed walls. A good-sized wooden bed faced the window, which overlooked the flower-filled front garden. Chintz curtains fluttered with each sigh of the breeze.

  “I have something for you. Not a wedding present, but something that proves I have been true to you all these years.” Gideon guided her onto the embroidered cover of the bed and strode to a chest of drawers.

  From a battered tin he withdrew some papers and cards, which he handed to her.

  The distant sound of the busy road faded.

  Caroline lifted the first card with its newly inked, bright red love heart. In handwriting she recognised as Gideon’s were the words: “To my valentine, no matter where you are and how long we are parted, my heart will always be yours.” In the bottom corner it was dated today.

  Tears prickled her eyes.

  Four other cards lay in her hand. The bottom one was yellowed with age. It read, “My valentine has been taken from me. I long for you. My heart is in pieces. I will find you.” It was dated 1809, soon after they had been separated by her father.

  She looked up at him through misty eyes and swallowed past a throat tightened with unshed tears. Her heart felt as though it filled her whole chest. Could there ever have been a truer love than his? “Love me,” she whispered. “I’ve missed you all these long years.”