A True Love Forbidden Read online

  A True Love Forbidden

  Charity McColl

  Publisher’s Note: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental.

  © 2019 PureRead Ltd

  PureRead.com

  Contents

  Introduction

  1. Frustrated Son

  2. Caring Daughter

  3. Unexpected Encounter

  4. Unwelcome Guest

  5. The Unhappy Fiancé

  6. Strange Coincidence

  7. Facing Harsh Reality

  8. Pool Of Tears

  9. Bereavement

  10. Acceptance At Last

  Boxset Reading Enjoyment

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  About PureRead

  Introduction

  A Personal Word From PureRead

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  * * *

  Enjoy The Story!

  1

  Frustrated Son

  George Murray watched helplessly as the study door closed with a loud bang behind his father. He winced, closing his eyes briefly and then opening them again to stare at it. For the first time in a long time, his father was the one who walked out to end an argument between them.

  “You will obey my every instruction, or else I will disown you as my son and your brother will become next duke after me,” an angry Lord Victor had said in his coldest voice a few minutes before he left the study. George shook his head sadly feeling very helpless and frustrated. Why couldn’t his father accept that he was a grown up now and had the right to make decisions for himself. He was twenty-four years old, for crying out loud, yet his father still treated him as if he was two.

  “Mama, why did you have to die and leave us with a broken father,” he murmured.

  George had always looked forward to growing up and becoming a man, but his father wasn’t letting him do that. He just had to control him in every way, including choosing a bride for him. He was getting tired of it all, but as Mark his younger brother always said, their father was still grieving for their mother and had built walls around his heart and refused to allow himself to feel at all.

  The door opened and Mark walked in. The two brothers were of the same height and build, standing at almost six feet tall with broad shoulders. Both of them were skilled horsemen, having been taught how to ride by their mother from when they were toddlers. Because the two boys were born only a year apart, people often mistook them for twins, especially since they were very close and never kept secrets from each other.

  “You look like you’ve had a rough time with the duke,” Mark said as he crossed over to the large oak desk and sat on it, observing his older brother. “I could hear him yelling from the stables. What’s going on, George?”

  George ran a hand through his blond hair that was neatly cropped. “The same old story, marry Lady Claire Hemingway and save the family estate or else, I’ll disown you and let your brother become the next duke,” he mimicked his father. “I don’t love Claire, but father thinks that I should sacrifice myself in order to keep the family from decline. As if I was the one who put us into all this trouble in the first place.”

  “Don’t talk like that, George. You know that our grandfather had really messed the estate up with his gambling and drinking and papa inherited all that mess when he died. He tried his best, our father did, but when mama fell ill you know he went to pieces and after her death, well,” Mark twisted his lips. His clear blue eyes were slightly troubled. “You’ve got to understand that papa is worried about all of us and Mary too. If she doesn’t have a good dowry then it means she will have to marry well beneath her and that would just break his heart further.”

  “Mark,” George raised tired grey eyes to his brother, “I know that what you’re saying is all true, but look at me. I believe in love and want to marry a woman I’m in love with, not someone who’s been forced on me. I want what our father and mother had when she was still alive. They would walk hand in hand, spend a lot of time in the garden together in spring and not a single day went by without papa telling mama how much he loved and cherished her. That’s the kind of love that I want, but I know that I won’t get it with Claire. For one, she is too cold and uptight, a very prim and proper miss who rarely smiles. She will make a good duchess, but not for me.”

  “You might be doing Claire an injustice, brother. Why don’t you get to know her better and perhaps you’ll find that she’ll be a suitable mate for you.”

  George shook his head. “I have tried to get as close to Claire as I possibly can, enduring the many hours of meaningless teas and chatters,” he picked up a pile of cards from his father’s desk. “These are all invitations to social events that I have no desire to attend, but have to. Just because they were sent over by Claire’s father so we can be seen together in public and so everyone can know that we’re courting.”

  “That’s not such a bad thing, is it?”

  “Mark, you’re a very romantic man and I appreciate what you’re trying to do. But the thing is, Claire can never be the kind of woman I want to be married to, let alone fall in love with. I need someone sporadic, someone who doesn’t care what other people think. Someone who isn’t afraid of being herself. Lady Claire has been brought up to believe in rules and regulations and any deviation from the norm throws her completely off course. Even thoroughbred horses sometimes stray away from their normal courses, but not so Lady Claire. Everything just has to be perfect in her world and around her. Can you imagine me living like that, never setting a foot wrong? It would drive me insane and the next thing, you would all be hauling me away to Bedlam.”

  Mark chuckled at the expression on his brother’s face. “You really should join the Royal Theatre of Arts,” he said. “They could do with a good actor like you.”

  “This isn’t acting, Mark. I mean it. If the rules of the house state that we walk on the left side then it will have to be so. Eat in a certain manner, drink in a specific way, walk as instructed, sleep as bid. What kind of a life is that?”

  “George, stop. You’ve got to stop all that. Why don’t you speak to papa and tell him how you feel? His love for our mother has got to count for something.”

  “I wish I could,” George sighed, doodling on the desk with his index finger. “You know how stern papa has become ever since our mother died. He listens to no one, shows no emotions at all and trying to reason with him is just a waste of time. Papa won’t listen and he’ll only get angry like he did a few minutes ago.”

  “What exactly was he yelling about?”

  “Papa wants me to go to tonight’s ball instead of him, and to take Lady Claire. I was trying to tell him that I had other plans but he wouldn’t listen. He says he has to travel to Scotland for some personal business and will be away for about two weeks.” George shook his head in exasperation. “Why do I have to be the obedient older son always, papa should und
erstand that I have feelings.”

  Mark reached out a hand to his brother, touching his arm gently. “Just talk to papa. He may be stern but underneath all that hardness is the loving father we knew. Please George, don’t get into fighting matches with our father because he may pretend that he is strong and tough, but mama’s death really did him in.”

  “I know that, but still.”

  “Come on, brother. All will be well, you’ll see.”

  “I hope so Mark, I really hope so. And you better pray that you never have to be put in a position such as I am facing right now.”

  “No chance of that ever happening as I’m the second son and really of no consequence.”

  “Things change, life happens and you can never tell what the future will bring, do just pray.”

  2

  Caring Daughter

  “Mama, you’ve got to try, please,” Nancy Cromwell was nearly in tears as she held up a spoonful of broth to her mother’s lips. Olivia Cromwell tightened her lips and shook her head, turning away so she wouldn’t have to eat her soup. “Please mama, this is the only way you’ll be able to get better. You have to eat to regain your strength.”

  “Tired,” Olivia said, looking completely drained and Nancy felt helpless. Her mother was just recovering from consumption and for a while Nancy had feared that she would die. The disease had ravaged her already slender frame and now she looked emaciated. “Very tired, Nancy. Please let me sleep.”

  “In a moment, mama. I need you to finish this bowl of broth and then I’ll let you get the sleep you crave. Aunt Matilda will be by a little later because I have to go to the clinic.”

  Olivia nodded then opened her mouth for some broth. She soon finished the bowl and Nancy smiled as she held the empty dish up. “Thank you, mama. Now, let me get you to bed and then I’ll be leaving for work. But I’ll be back as soon as I finish whatever work Dr. Smithson assigns me.” She helped her mother to her feet and walked her to her bedroom.

  “Be careful, lots of dangers out there,” Olivia whispered huskily as she watched her daughter fluffing the pillows and straightening the bed linens.

  Nancy laughed, a soft sound that made her mother smile. Olivia always worried about her daughter as if she was still a child. “Mama, I leave work early enough and shouldn’t be in any danger. Besides, it’s just a short distance to Dr. Smithson’s clinic and I promise that I won’t go anywhere else but will come straight home from work.”

  Nancy tucked her mother in and kissed her forehead. “You sleep now, I love you.”

  Olivia reached out her hands and hugged her daughter, holding her close for longer than usual. “You’re the best daughter any mother could ever wish for.”

  “You’re the best mother any daughter could wish for, now close your eyes and sleep. I’ll just sit in this chair until you fall asleep.”

  As Nancy waited for her mother to fall asleep, she thought about their lives in this little cottage on the outskirts of London. It had been part of a larger estate belonging to an earl, and her father had worked for him for many years. Henry Cromwell had been one of the best footmen the earl had ever had. When he died suddenly after being injured as he took care of his master’s horses, Olivia thought they would be turned away from the home they had known. But the earl had deeded the cottage and a small garden to her and her daughter, fencing it off so it was no longer part of the larger estate. This, he had said, was to ensure that none of his heirs would ever lay claim to the piece of land and cottage.

  He had gone further and paid for a governess for Nancy until she was sixteen, and then because she expressed the desire to become a nurse, had spoken to Dr. Smithson who took her in and trained her. At twenty two years of age, she was a well-trained nurse and had she wanted to, would have found work at one of the large hospitals in London. But that would mean working fulltime and being away from her mother for long periods of time, something she didn’t relish. So she decided to stay on with Dr. Smithson whose clinic was busy yes, but the hours were very flexible and he was also a kind man who cared about his patients. When her mother fell ill, he had personally attended to her, coming out to the cottage to do so.

  When Nancy was sure that her mother was asleep, she got up and tiptoed out of the room, just as the front door opened and her mother’s sister came in, shaking her umbrella. She was a middle aged woman with long blond hair that she had tied into a coil at the back of her head. Her dark eyes lit up when she saw Nancy. “I thought you would have already left,” she said. “There’s some light rain and the roads are very slippery. Be careful when you go out there.”

  “Thank you for letting me know. I have made some tea and scones for you.”

  “Don’t worry about me, I’ll get to them at some point after resting my weary feet.” She took off her shoes and sat down. “You need to get going now if you have to get to work in good time.”

  “Aunt Mattie, it’s so good of you to come and stay with mama while I go out to the clinic.”

  “With all your four cousins married and gone and your uncle always going down to his club to spend his days exchanging stories of combat with other veterans, I have a lot of time on my hands.” She shook her head. “That man likes to boast that he served under the Duke of Wellington even though he never once shook the man’s hand.” She chuckled softly, a deep rich sound. “Besides, your mother always took good care of me in the past when I had your cousins. It’s a pleasure to do the same for her.” Matilda wiped her brow. “How is my small sister today?”

  “Better than yesterday, that’s for sure. At least she managed to finish a whole bowl of broth today and I was thinking that maybe tomorrow we could start her on soft foods like mashed potatoes.”

  “Good idea,” Matilda looked around her. “Is there anything else you wish me to do while you’re out?”

  “No Auntie. I’ll just be going now, and hopefully I’ll remember to pass by the farmers’ market and get some potatoes.” She kissed her aunt’s cheek. “I will see you later.”

  “Okay dearie, now run along before Dr. Smithson begins to think that you’re not coming.”

  * * *

  The clinic was packed as usual and Nancy was kept busy running up and down preparing patients to see the doctor. Even though theirs was an outpatient clinic, once in a while they did emergency deliveries of babies who weren’t patient enough to allow their hassled mothers to get to a hospital. On this particular day two babies were born and since Nancy had decided that she would specialise as a midwife, the task fell to her to take care of the mothers and their new-borns. By the time she was ready to leave for home, she could barely put one foot in front of the other.

  “Miss Cromwell.”

  “Yes Dr. Smithson?”

  “I’ll need you to come in tomorrow because we’ll probably have as many in as today. There’s a cholera and diphtheria outbreak in London and we’re not yet able to contain it so I’m very sure we will see more patients than before. Do come in early if you can.”

  “Yes, doctor.”

  “And be careful on the road, with the showers coming down, carts, carriages and horses aren’t being handled that well. Walk as far from the road as you can.”

  “Yes, doctor.”

  Nancy often wondered why a highly skilled and well experienced doctor like Albert Smithson had chosen to work in one of the poorer areas of London. Most of the patients who came to the clinic could barely pay the few pence charged for consultation but they were never turned away. Given his skills and the fact that he was a decorated military doctor, he could have opened his clinic in upmarket London. Still, he was the personal physician of a number of nobles and gentry and used the money he charged them to run his charity clinic. One day she would ask him what made him lay his life down for his poorer patients. But today, she needed to hurry home out of the cold and rain.

  Just as she had promised her aunt, Nancy passed through the farmers’ market. As usual, Mrs. Bell the woman her mother always bought groceries from
, was happy to see her.

  “Nancy, how is your mother doing?”

  “Mama is getting better, thank you for asking. She’s still very weak but at least this

  morning she managed to finish a whole bowl of broth. Aunt Matilda and I would like to start her on solid food now.”

  “Indeed, pass my regards to her. What shall I sell you today? I brought in a new stock of Irish potatoes, which will do her a lot of good. As well you can see that I just finished shelling green peas and these turnips are fresh from the garden.”

  Nancy didn’t bother haggling about the prices because Mrs. Bell usually gave her mother a good discount and once in a while threw in something extra for free. Today it was some tomatoes and parsley.

  “Thank you very much, Mrs. Bell.” She handed her a pound, waited for her change as she looked around the busy market. It was a noisy place but Nancy often told her mother that it was comforting to know that there was food for people to eat, even the poor. At the back of the market were large bins in which traders placed stale or produce that was going bad, for the poor to take for free.

  “Come again next time, Nancy.”

  “I will do that, Mrs. Bell.”

  She rushed out of the market, careful to avoid colliding with those going and coming in. Her aunt would be worried if she didn’t get home soon. She wasn’t quite looking where she was going and stepped right into the path of an oncoming carriage and she only heard the warning too late, but the driver reined in the horses so she was hit by the side of the carriage and she went down, her groceries and small purse scattered in all directions.