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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 the 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.”
Gideon leant down and gently kissed her closed eyes. A tear slid down her cheek. He stopped its journey with the tip of his tongue.
Caroline raised her hands to his shoulders and turned her head to meet his lips with her own. She subsided backwards onto the bed, tugging Gideon with her.
His lips parted and his tongue trailed a tingling path across her lips, enticing them open. Tentatively her tongue touched his, then explored his mouth. She pulled the soft cambric shirt from his breeches, then slid her hand across his smooth, muscled abdomen. Her fingers searched for the button to release the fall of his breeches.
“Let me help you,” Gideon murmured against her lips. His mouth left hers while he pulled the boots from his feet. They landed on the timber floor with a resounding thud. He raised his shirt over his head to reveal a torso banded with tight muscles, sculpted by his daily work at the forge.
Gideon knelt at her feet to remove her half boots. His calloused hands slipped up her legs to the tops of her stockings, sending arrows of sensation shooting along her skin. With two purposeful sweeps of his hands, the stockings joined her shoes. She shivered and held out her arms to him, wanting him in them again.
Instead, he raised her into a sitting position and sat beside her to undo the small buttons that closed the back of her summer dress.
First one side of her dress, then the other, sagged down to reveal her shift. He trailed a line of warm kisses across her shoulders.
He eased the strap of her shift from her shoulder and slid his tongue down the path it revealed to her breast, and suckled her nipple. A lightning bolt of arousal ran through her to imbed itself between her legs, making her hot and swollen.
Gideon peeled her dress and shift down to her waist to give full attention to both breasts. His breath felt warm until he blew on her damp skin. Were those moans hers?
Caroline pushed Gideon’s breeches from his slim hips. His erection stood proud from the linen of his drawers. She shed her remaining clothes.
Naked, they embraced toe to toe, Gideon’s erection hard against Caroline’s flat belly. Her hands cupped his face, now smooth and smelling of fresh soap. Gideon’s lips ran a trail of hot kisses up Caroline’s neck and across her jaw until their mouths met to suck, nip and lick each other into yearning passion.
Gideon folded back the linen from the bed and guided Caroline between the sheets.
She pulled him on top of her.
Gideon gave a brief chuckle and rolled to her side. His hand smoothed from her breast to her thigh in a long, lingering stroke. At the juncture of her thighs, he teased her auburn curls and slid his fingers into her. His lips didn’t leave hers, and his tongue flicked in and out of her mouth, mimicking his fingers. Her breathing raced as the pressure built up in her.
An explosion of colour and sensation ignited in her brain. Caroline moaned. All tension drained from her body. This was as far as they had progressed all those years ago. Gideon’s magical hands were unchanged.
This time Caroline pulled Gideon towards her. “Now you,” she whispered. “You’ve waited too long, husband.”
Gideon entered her gently. There was some stretching, but she felt so relaxed and fulfilled it was insignificant. She urged him onwards.
He started a slow rhythm of thrust and withdrawal. His mouth continued to explore her neck, jaw and mouth. The muscles of his arms bunched above her, taking most of his weight.
Caroline drew his head closer and nipped him, leaving a trail of pink marks marching up the column of his neck. His straining body filled hers with yearning again, making her breathless as her body built up to climax once more.
The pace of his thrusts increased until he groaned in orgasm, just as Caroline sighed in release again.
He rested his forehead on hers. His clear blue eyes glittered with emotion. “My love, my valentine. Never leave me again,” he rasped, still breathless.
“I’m yours forever. I’ve waited too long for us to be together to ever let you go,” she murmured in response.
Gideon rolled to one side, drawing her into his arms. She was safe, comfortable, fulfilled. Within minutes, she drifted into sleep.
***
Twilight sent soft beams across the pale sky as Caroline lay naked in Gideon’s arms.
A loud knock sounded on the front door beneath their room. Caroline heard Mrs Wetherton answer the door. Strident voices sounded in the hall below, and Gideon’s mother made some quiet answer.
Then the front door banged loudly as though it had hit a wall. Heavy footsteps thumped on the wooden floor.
“Where is she?” Caroline’s father’s voice boomed up the stairway. Footfalls echoed on the steps.
They were coming!
“What do we do?” Caroline gasped as she tried to find her shift.
Gideon pulled on his trousers. “Stay where you are.”
Doors crashed in succession, each bang getting closer and closer to their room. Suddenly their own door burst open.
“You cad!” yelled her father. He flailed his walking stick at Gideon, trying to strike him over the shoulder.
Gideon jumped forward and wrenched the stick from her father’s hand and broke it across his knee. “Get out! Your daughter is married to me and the marriage is consummated. You have no power here.”
Her father stared at them gape-mouthed, then a shrewd look came into his narrowed eyes. “You think not?” He grabbed Caroline and tried to drag her naked from the bed. “The Baron will still have her. He’ll probably be more than happy to have a wench with some experience!”
Caroline struggled and spat out her defiance. “I doubt that very much, Father. I hear he likes virgins best and pays a lot for the pleasure. Well, he won’t have me.”
“Unhand her, you ...” Gideon landed a punch on his father-in-law’s chin. He released his hold on Caroline and collapsed onto the bed like a felled tree, stopping further discussion.
Caroline stifled a scream. Her heartbeat raced. “Is he hurt?”
Gideon checked her father’s breathing and gave Caroline reassuring smile. “He’ll be fine.” Gideon grasped the lapels of the man’s coat and dragged him from the room.
Beside them, Cousin Rachel screeched, “You’ve killed him, you wicked man!”
Gideon brushed past Caroline’s cousin. “He’s unconscious, not dead. He’s going back to his carriage, that’s all,” he growled.
Caroline heaved a sigh of relief, pulled her clothes on and hurried to assist Gideon in removing her father from the house.
Together they carried him to the carriage and deposited him in a corner, his head against the plush squab. By the time they had achieved this, his eyes had opened and he was spitting venomous words, but was no longer in a fighting mood.
“She is my wife now, by law,” Gideon said, his voice adamant.
Her father frothed. “Not by law. She is no more than a fallen woman!”
“You are in Scotland now. She’s my wife—all right and tight. As long as you recognise that, you are welcome here.”
“Until you do, keep away, Father,” Caroline said. A wave of sadness at his callousness tightened her chest.
Cousin Rachel humphed and scrambled into the carriage to flutter about Caroline’s father, patting his hand.
He brushed her off and said coldly, “That day will never come, sir!” Still slumped in his seat, he banged on the carriage wall for the vehicle to move on.
The carriage pulled away, heading towards London. That itself was an admission of defeat. Caroline smiled shakily and took her husband’s hand.
Baron Strathmorie would wait forever for his virgin bride—unless Cousin Rachel wished to marry him in her stead. Oh but she hoped not, for her cousin’s sake!
Encircled by Gideon’s arm, Caroline laid her head against his shoulder. She could envisage no greater happiness than she knew at this moment.
She had found her long-lost valentine.