Forever Mine (53 page)

August 30, 1908

My darling sweetest of witches,

It is the tenth anniversary of your death. I decided to spend time alone in your room as I grieved for you. While I was there, I felt an unusual warmth fill the room. It was as if you had come into the room. Then as if someone were actually in the room with me, the secret cubby hole Edmund told me about popped open.

I am not a man who finds himself frightened by much, but it did startle me. I immediately went to the cubby hole to ascertain what might have caused it to open. Unable to determine the reason for its opening, I closed the compartment. As I turned around I caught a glimpse of you in the sunlight streaming through the window. You were as beautiful as I remembered. It was as if you knew I would need sustenance to ease the pain your loss has meant to me.

It made me believe that you are there waiting for me in the future, that you truly will find the journals I am writing of you. I think you will enjoy the locket I have had made for you. So far, Lockwood has made four miniatures of Andrew for the inside of the locket. It’s a rather clever design as it opens up to show four portraits on the front and four on the back. I am holding spaces for our son’s school days at Eton, the day he becomes a man, the day he marries and the day he becomes a father. This way, you will see him as he grows up.

He is a boy you can be proud of, Victoria. He is honorable, thoughtful, kind and has a mischievous sense of humor that has him pulling pranks on a regular basis. However, do not think he is without fault. Our son is stubborn, commanding, and has a tendency to brood on occasion. Does that remind you of anyone? I can hear your laugh now, sweet witch, and know that I am smiling with you. I love and miss you my dearest of hearts, sweet witch.

Yours always, Nicholas

March 19, 1909

My darling wife,

As you know from previous entries, Edmund has been ill for some time. He never fully recovered from his bout with the flu last year, and his body was incapable of warding off this most recent illness. He died quietly in his sleep last night. I am grateful for these few years I had with my brother. I have never met a more gentle soul or kinder heart. That he will be missed does not do justice to the feelings the entire household is dealing with at the moment.

Andrew is beside himself with grief. He and Edmund were like brothers, and it pains me to see our son hurting so badly. My experience tells me that his grief will ebb leaving a bittersweet pain that will remain with him always, but that the joyous moments are the ones that will shine through in the months and years to come. Such is my experience of loving you.

I wish you were here, my love. I know you would be the stalwart one of us who would mourn with us, but remind us all that Edmund was the best of us.

Always and forever, Nicholas

September 1, 1910

Dearest sweet witch,

Today is the first day of Eton for Andrew. I would have sent him to school last year, but I was certain you would have vehemently protested sending him away so soon after Edmund’s death. So I decided to keep his tutor on for one more year.

I bought a Rolls-Royce recently. I am told that automobiles will be the transportation mode of the century, but I prefer trains and carriages. There is change in the air. Still, the automobile allows me to bring Andrew home for visits whenever he has time. If he is like his mother, I believe those visits will become more infrequent as he makes his way in the world.

I believe our boy’s gregarious personality will serve him well. He is certain to make a great number of friends. Sebastian and I first met at Eton. The two of us have been friends ever since. With Andrew in school and Edmund gone, I find myself with little to do, so I have decided to take a more active role in Parliament. To date, I have participated on a small level, but I intend to take up a cause I think would be dear to your heart.

The suffragette movement is still in need of support. There is a growing antipathy toward the leaders and followers of the movement. While I will be in the minority in my support of women’s causes, I shall do my best to persuade members of the House of Lords to do what is right. See, my love, even though you are not here, you are persuading me to do what you believe is right. You are smiling right now, are you not, my love? I know you are. I love you, madam wife. You are forever mine, no matter where you are.

Your loving husband, Nicholas

September 20, 1925

Well, my love, tonight was the announcement of Andrew and Jane’s impending nuptials. I am as delighted as Sebastian and Anna. It is really not a surprise, but Jane did manage to bring our boy up to snuff when he seemed to be hedging on a marriage proposal. She simply began to be seen with other young men, which promptly made Andrew stake his claim.

I know your heart would be swelling with love and pride if you had been standing at my side this evening. Sebastian and Anna put on a splendid affair. I have no doubt it will be the talk of the season. There is only one more miniature to add to your locket, my sweet witch. Lockwood has developed arthritis, and has taken on a protégée who will do the final two portraits of Andrew. I imagine the man will work on the miniature shortly after Andrew and Jane return from their wedding trip.

I must close now. Keeping my eyes open is a difficult matter at the moment. Sebastian and I celebrated our pleasure at the joining of our two houses a bit more than we should have. I have not drunk this much since that terrible night my words made you flee to Brentwood Park. I miss you still my love. But I will find you in your future. I believe this with all my heart.

Always and forever, Nicholas

November 22, 1927

My darling wife,

You are a grandmother. The Honorable Sarah Jane Thornhill was born at twenty after one this afternoon. Jane apparently suffered a great deal, much to Andrew’s dismay. But she is doing well, and our granddaughter is beautiful.

Sebastian and I have been debating which side of the family she looks the most like. It is clear that she looks like you. Do not laugh, my love. I am in earnest when I say this as she has your sapphire eyes, and there is a distinct auburn cast to her hair.

Your loving husband and the proud grandfather of a baby girl, Nicholas

October 30, 1933

Dearest sweet witch,

As I always do at this time of year, I visit Goodman Cottage and walk the path around the pond thinking of you and my refusal to believe that you weren’t Vickie. I am still amazed at my stubbornness to not recognize the truth more quickly. Nonetheless, this is my favorite time of year because it reminds me of how fortunate I am at having had you to love. What we shared was something few find in this world, and when we meet again in your world, I know we will be equally fortunate then. Despite my inability to see, hear, or touch you, you are always with me. I feel you in the dark just before dawn is about to break. I breathe you in whenever I smell the scent of lemons with honey. And I hear your laughter whenever young Sarah runs through the halls with her grandfather chasing her. My beloved wife, when you read these journals, I pray that I am with you, holding you. I know you will laugh and cry, and I want to be the one kissing your brow as you read what a wonderful legacy you left behind. I adore you, my beloved wife.

You are forever mine, your husband Nicholas

February 10, 1940

My darling sweet witch,

I have been ill. Bertram is uncertain as to what is wrong with me, but I am adamant that he is not to send for any experts from London. I have lived a good life, had a wife I loved and who loved me, a son who has made me proud and a granddaughter who is the apple of my eye. I can think of only one thing now, and that is you. I am eager to join you in whatever grand adventure awaits us in your time period.

I love you, my darling Victoria. No matter how far the distance that time itself puts between us, I will never stop loving you. You are still more dear to me than my life itself, and I believe with all my heart that I will be with you soon. I shall hold you again, and we will have the chance to love again and experience together all the things I’ve shared with you in these journal entries.

I love you, Victoria. You bewitched me all those years ago and each thought of you ensures you remain in my heart. It won’t be long now, my love. I am eager to be with you again.

Forever and always, Nicholas

§  §  §

Thank you for reading FOREVER MINE! I hope you enjoyed it. If you did, please help other people find this book:

1.   This book is lendable, so send it to a friend you think might like it too.

2.   Help other people find this book by writing a review on Amazon, Goodreads and other websites. Even an honest, two-line review has meaning for other readers.

3.   Sign up for
Monica’s Newsletter
, so you can find out about upcoming releases.

4.   Like Monica’s Facebook page at
https://www.facebook.com/AuthorMonicaBurns

5.   Visit Monica’s
website
to read one or more chapters of
all
her books.

6.   Read on to enjoy a special preview of HIS TO COMMAND Book 2 (Novella) in the Self-made Man series and featured in the Wanton Christmas Wishes Anthology!

Book 2 (Novella) Self-Made Men Series

Part of the Wanton Christmas Wishes Anthology

F
rom the moment John Fordyce saved Charlotte Clayworth from drowning at the age of five, the two of them have been inseparable. Trapped in a deserted farmhouse on a blizzardy Christmas Eve, John desperately struggles to control his desire for the woman he’s grown up with. When a small act of discipline compromises Charlotte, honor requires John to make a marriage proposal different from the one he intended.

When Charlotte realizes she’s in love with her best friend, she can’t contemplate another man caressing her the way John does. But when he states they must marry to save her reputation and satisfy his honor, she refuses. The thought of their friendship dissolving into a marriage embittered by a single indiscretion horrifies her.

Their friendship crumbles as they go their separate ways until a close-knit group of Self-Made Men decide to meddle in their mentor’s love life and reunite the two lovers. But will John and Charlotte realize they both have the same wish—that the best of friends make the best of lovers?

“Stay here, while I get the horse.”

John’s command wasn’t one she was about to disobey even if she wanted too. The snow engulfed him for a moment before he emerged from the white powder like a black knight leading his charger behind him. Without a word, he lifted her up onto the horse’s back. She was adjusting her seat on the mare when John tugged off one of her shoes and handed it to her, followed by the second.

“What are you doing?” she gasped.

“Your feet are soaked, aren’t they?”

It wasn’t so much a question as it was an exasperated chastisement. Before she could protest, John slid his hands up under her skirts and along her leg to undo her stocking. With the hosiery released from the garter clip, he proceeded to roll the silk hose down off her leg. The warmth of his hands spread heat across her skin, while butterflies fluttered rapidly inside her stomach. The wickedly delicious touch of his fingers on her bare skin sent a shiver through her.

“You’ll be warmer in a moment,” he said as he misinterpreted her tremor.

With one stocking off, he threw it over his shoulder and proceeded to remove her other one. As his fingers unsnapped the hosiery from her garter, the pads of his fingers left a trail of fire as he worked the stocking down off her leg. There was nothing seductive in John’s touch, but it singed her skin with a white-hot heat that sank its way down into her pores.

She wanted him to go on touching her this way. The warmth consuming her was enough to melt the snow falling down on her. Another tremor streaked through her, and John lifted his head to meet her gaze. The concern on his face quickly evaporated as he narrowed his eyes.

Charlotte jerked her gaze away from his. What on earth was the matter with her? She’d known John since she was five. He’d pulled her out of the pond near her father’s parish, and from that time forward, she’d followed him everywhere. When he’d grown older and gone away to school, she’d lived for the summers when he’d return. He was her best friend, and until this very moment, she’d never thought of him as anything else but that.

A warm hand grasped her ankle as John dried her foot with the top part of a stocking. Fire streaked up her leg and reached the apex of her thigh. Charlotte swallowed hard. She was accustomed to touching herself alone in her bed, but this was the first time she’d ever wanted a man to touch her there.

When John was satisfied her foot was dry, he performed the same ritual with her other one. Without a word, he pulled one of her shoes out of her hands and used the stockings to remove the snow and water from the ankle-high footwear. In a perfunctory manner, he slid the shoe onto her foot then repeated the action.

“There,” he muttered in an odd voice. “That will keep you dry until we get to the farm.”

BUY
WANTON CHRISTMAS WISHES
NOW!

or add to
GOODREADS

§  §  §

1.   This book is lendable, so send it to a friend you think might like it too.

2.   Help other people find this book by writing a review. Even an honest, two-line review has meaning for other readers.