Chapter 15
Gabriel tugged on Samson’s reins and dismounted. He led the bay gelding around the stone wall that enclosed the Silverdale farmyard and tied him to the fence post. Samson nibbled on the clover.
The setting sun dipping below the horizon spread its orange glow across the fields earlier with each passing day.
Guilt and anticipation warred in his stomach. He should not have rushed through his patients, but the urge to see Blythe had been too strong to resist.
This was madness. He was opening himself up to hurt, and no one had the potential to wound him more than Blythe. But he could not help himself. Just like before, he longed to be in her presence every waking moment.
He leapt over the fence of the empty pasture. If Daisy and Prue were already in the cowshed, Blythe would be too.
He hugged the wall of the barn, his ears alert for any sound.
Thank goodness the geese had been put out in the stubbled fields to fatten up for Michaelmas.
What are you doing? He was a grown man—a physician—sneaking around to see the girl he had loved since they were children.
Blythe may have betrayed his trust, but his foolish heart still longed for no one else.
Others may think him a fool for forgiving her, but he did not care. They belonged together, and now was his chance to make her his, if she would have him.
No one lingered; most were making their way home from the fields, so he slipped inside the cowshed. Several chickens pecked at the hay-strewn floor.
In the soft glow of a lantern, Blythe sat on her stool, her back arched and her head resting on the cow’s stomach. Whispered words floated over the rhythmic splash of liquid into the pail.
He slouched against the wooden slats of the cowshed and crossed his arms when she began to sing.
The soft lilt of her voice eased his aching limbs.
He could watch her for eternity, be she milking cows, digging up vegetables or caring for a dying boy.
Several curls peeked from beneath her lace-trimmed cap.
His fingers itched to tug on one of those locks and watch it bounce back into place.
Her song ended. “Are you not going to say anything?”
He chuckled inwardly. “How did you know it was me?”
“Only you are foolish enough to sneak into the cowshed at this time of night.”
The rhythmic splash of liquid ceased. Blythe picked up the pail between the cow’s legs and set it next to another brimming with creamy liquid.
She wiped her hands on her wrinkled apron. “My mama will box your ears if she finds you in here.”
“That threat did not discourage me when I was a lad, either.”
Finally, she turned, and her brow puckered. “You look tired.”
He could say the same of her, judging by her pallid complexion and red-rimmed eyes. “What is wrong?”
Blythe picked up the milking stool and set it aside. “How are your patients in Alderton?”
“Decidedly healthy, I am pleased to say. A few cases of broken bones, cuts, stings and aching limbs, but the harvest is almost complete.” He pushed away from the wall.
Her questions would not deter him. “How has your day fared?” This is what it should have been like these past fifteen years: coming home to each other, sharing their day, enjoying a warm meal together and then a bed.
His cock stirred at the prospect. They could still have that.
Everything inside him ached to share the rest of his life with her. If she would have him.
“I sent Elijah back to school this morning, then I paid your mother a visit.” Blythe inspected her palms.
He had thought she would need more convincing, but his heart lightened. If Blythe wanted something, she reached out and took it. That was what had made her fickle behaviour so difficult to understand.
“You spoke to her about me, did you not?” She chewed on her lower lip.
The succulent pink flesh tempted him beyond reason. Oh, to kiss that mouth again. He lowered his gaze to the dirt floor and did not speak.
“Why?”
“You know why.” He nudged a clump of hay with his toe.
The hem of her skirt appeared at the edge of his vision. “Gabriel, you did not have to do that.”
His gaze wandered over the plain brown dress, her stained apron, her delicate hands, then over her chest to her beautiful face. “I want you to be happy, Blythe.” God help him; her happiness meant more to him than anything in the world. It always had.
Blythe blew out a long breath. “I—”
Unable to resist her lure, he surged forward and claimed her mouth with his. His arms wrapped around her waist, hauling her tight against him so she could not escape.
His heart soared when she relaxed and her arms encircled his neck.
Her tongue pressed forth to meet his in a delicious tangle. Her divine sweetness burst on his tongue, but the woman in his arms was no longer an innocent girl. Their tongues duelled, and her fingers dug into his scalp, holding him to her. Thank the Lord, she wanted this as much as he did.
His hands wandered up her back, tracing every contour. One hand skimmed over her hip and upward to the gentle swell of her breasts. Even with the fabric of her clothing between them, his palm tingled with warmth.
She panted, “Gabriel.”
He trailed kisses along her jaw and down the side of her neck.
A mix of floral lavender, sweet hay and…
cows clung to her skin. He nibbled at the slope of her shoulder, nudging aside the muslin tucked into the neckline of her gown.
God, he wanted to bite into that flesh and suck the skin until it left a mark—his mark, so everyone would know she belonged to him.
She gasped, “Gabriel, we must stop.”
“I do not want to stop. I never want to stop. I want to do this with you every moment of every day for the rest of my life.”
She stiffened before clasping his head in her hands and pulling him away to meet his gaze. “Gabriel, this is madness.”
He blinked away the fog of lust.
“We should not do this.”
A familiar ache in his chest flared. “Do you not want me?”
She shook her head, then blurted, “Yes… but that does not mean we should.” Her chest heaved. “The things I have done…”
“I told you, it no longer matters. I do not care. I want you, Blythe. I love you and I always have. There is no one else for me.”
Her lashes lowered. “It is not that simple.”
One cow grumbled.
Blythe stepped closer to her bovine companions. “I do not wish to complicate things between us. Your mother offered to take me on as her apprentice again, but—”
“We can still do everything we planned when we were younger.” The future he had always desired. “We can take over from my parents—”
“I cannot accept your mother’s offer.” Her words echoed through the cowshed. Even the chickens remained silent.
“There are things you do not know. Terrible things that will change your opinion of me forever, and I can no longer keep them from you.”
“There is nothing you can say that will change the way I feel about you.”
She raised her chin. “I was with child.”
The earth beneath his feet shifted.
“After you left for Edinburgh, I discovered I was expecting.”
Gabriel blinked. “Elijah?”
Blythe shook her head, and liquid glistened at the rims of her eyes. “The baby did not survive long enough for me to feel the quickening. By that time, I was already married.”
Gabriel’s lungs clamoured for air. Breathe, he had to breathe.
Tears spilled down Blythe’s cheeks. “I do not know if it was a combination of my guilt and heartbreak, but God clearly saw fit to punish me for my betrayal.”
Finally, he found his voice. “Why?” He swallowed against his burning throat. “Why did you not tell me?”
Blythe reached for the corner of her apron and wiped her nose. “I listened to my mother. You had barely started medical school. You could not support a wife and child. You would have had to leave, and I would not destroy your dream of becoming a physician.”
“You do not know that. I would have found a way to create a safe future for all of us.”
“Mama convinced me to let you go—” Blythe sniffed “—to allow you to lead the life of your choosing rather than bear the burden of a wife and child that stopped you fulfilling your dream.”
“And you believed her? Do you think I would ever have blamed you or my child for curtailing my dreams?” He inhaled, but nothing would calm his racing heart. “Why did you not go to my mother? My parents would have supported you.”
“Do you think I have not asked myself that over and over?” Blythe blinked, releasing more tears down her blotchy face.
“I betrayed you, Gabriel. I betrayed us. I allowed my mother to convince me to do something that went against everything I believed in. I was scared and weak, and I can never forgive myself.” Blythe released a trembling breath.
“I should never have returned. In my heart, I knew I could not keep this from you, and I cannot become your mother’s apprentice. ”
“I have to go.” He stumbled towards the door.
“I am so sorry, Gabriel.”
He staggered out of the cowshed and back to Samson.