ROMANCE: CLEAN ROMANCE: Summer Splash! (Sweet Inspirational Contemporary Romance) (New Adult Clean Fantasy Short Stories)

by Michelle Woodward

  “I know.”

  “So what do you want?”

  Albert slowly sat on the edge of his daughter’s bed. “I’m not getting any younger... My bones ache and to be frank. I think I will be joining your mother in the not so distant future.”

  “Don’t say that, Father.”

  “Oh don’t worry about me. I look forward to setting eyes on your mother’s most pleasant features again.”

  “I do miss mother too. Not that I remember her much. Sadly not much at all.”

  “You’re the image of her.”Albert shuffled to one side as Isabel sat by his side. He then gently brushed the cheek of his daughter. “I always wanted a son. But in you, Isabel, I see the brains and fortitude that will allow you to succeed in this world of men. ”

  “I don’t doubt that father?”

  “But still, a strong woman needs a strong man. Especially in the shipping industry. It takes a certain type of steel to manage seadogs and deal with hardnosed merchants.”

  “I told you, Father. I’m in no rush to marry”

  Albert cleared his throat so he could project a more commanding tone. “I know, I know. But it’s time now.” He paced his delivery to add weight to his words. “George Coldstone of the Geographic Society has proposed a rendezvous with you.”

  “Dr Coldstone. Really? I thought he would be too busy going native in Borneo or hunting large black women on the savannah.”

  “Isabel.”

  Isabel climbed from the bed and walked to the telescope. She then peered down the lens to view an incoming ship. “If you want my honest opinion, Father. George is rather dashing... for the older gentleman, that is. I would prefer a man in his twenties.”

  “He may be relatively old. But George is an intelligent, successful and from an esteemed family. You could do a lot worse.”

  “I have always seen him as an uncle that I was fond of, rather than a person I would want romance with. Kind, yes, dashing... most definitely. But he’s older, and I've known him from when I was a child. Doesn’t seem right.”

  George stepped up to the telescope and swung it away from an annoyed Isabel. “Forty is not ancient. I know plenty of fulfilled couples who have large age gaps.”

  “I know father... But you know that I’m a free spirit with my own heart and feelings.”

  “Stubborn is what you are.”

  Isabel scoffed, “I take after you then.” She snatched the telescope from her father. “Honestly, sometimes I think your ears are just stapled on... because I swear you never listen to a word I say.”

  “I want to secure your future.”

  “I don’t need a man to be safe and secure.”

  “A man can offer you love and guidance. I will not always be here to help you.”

  Isabel groaned as she straightened her back. “I will be inheriting the shipping company... and mostly like take your role as patron of the Geographic Society. I think that is more than a secure future.”

  “But... But you’re twenty three and not even a whiff of marital promise.”

  “Edward springs to mind.”

  “You must forget about Edward. Move on, Isabel.”

  Isabel ground her teeth but knew she had no choice. “I will meet George. But I can’t promise wedding bells. So I don’t want you to build your hopes up.”

  “I won’t. But George said he saw you at the service in St Luke’s last Sunday. By all accounts you left quite an impression on him. I can’t believe you did not notice him.”

  Isabel nonchalantly shrugged her shoulders. “I had a lot on my mind, Father. I would have thought you had too. But it seems nowadays all you think about is marrying me off.”

  “It’s my one last duty as a father.”

  Chapter 7

  Sat on a bench under an ancient oak within the grounds of her family home, Isabel looked over the ornamental boating lake. The sun made the water glisten while every now and then a fish bobbed to the surface causing ripples to disturb the mirrored sky. Despite the idyllic surrounding she turned to scowl at Miss Black. “I have to be frank Miss Black...I have nothing but disdain for you.”

  “I have heard much worse from you, Ma’am. What has got your knickers in a twist today? I thought you would be excited about meeting Mr. Coldstone.”

  “I would be a little... but not with you acting as my shadow.”

  “It’s your father’s orders.”

  Isabel waved the whale bone fan next to her face as her stress added to the stifling summer heat. “I understand... but what I resent the most is your slyness.”

  “Beg your pardon?”

  “I know you snitched on me and Edward.”

  “Again, I only carry out your father’s wishes. It’s clear that Edward is not the man for you.”

  “But you think George is?”

  Miss Black shrugged her rounded shoulders hidden under a black shall. “He is a man of class and grand stature. In your father’s eyes, he’s perfect.”

  “What about mine? Does my opinion not count?”

  “Today you will have your say.” Miss Black’s elderly face beamed a smile which hinted at a past beauty. “If I’m honest, I saw him today. I think you’ll be more than pleased.”

  “I remember him from my childhood... he could have only have gotten older and fatter.”

  Miss Black chuckled. “I think you’ll be pleasantly surprised.”

  ~

  Isabel walked towards the tall and dark haired George. She thought his skin appeared olive but weathered, as if he had lived a full life. Excited, she quickened her pace. But the quiet cough from the chaperoning Miss Black reminded her to walk at a lady like pace. “George Coldstone.” Isabel offered a smile. “It’s been a good while.”

  “I think you were twelve years of age the last time I saw you.”

  “Eleven, I do believe.”

  George glanced at Miss Black who stood behind Isabel. “Chaperone? It’s only a walk around the orchards.”

  “Isabel’s father insisted.”

  George gestured for Isabel to walk with him along the avenue of apple trees. “I must admit you have come a long way since I last set eyes on you. If I’m honest I thought you were a sickly runt back then.”

  “I struggled a lot without mother. Emotionally, I was a wreck... I suppose it must have showed.”

  “You clearly recovered well. For now... now you’re as pretty as a garden rose.”

  Isabel face lifted with a hint of a smile. “A garden rose. Not a bad compliment.”

  “I’m not a wordsmith. Nor am I poet.”

  “Shame” Isabel mocked George with an overblown sigh. “I like the arts. Nothing woos me like a romantic poem.” She then heard another cough from the shadowing Miss Black. “Since when has the word, woo, had a place in Miss Black’s dictionary of forbidden words?”

  “Since I deemed it forbidden.”

  George glanced at Isabel who shyly avoided his eyes as they walked among the trees. “I do like the theatre and reading. I also write.”

  “Yes. I have seen your name on father’s journals.”

  “However, I mustn’t lead you on. As my journal articles are rewritten for me by my ghost-writer. My own sentences read like a badly composed shopping list.”

  “I like to write when I have the time.” Isabel stopped walking and deliberately made eye contact with George. She thought his eyes were dark and piercing. “But since I’ve taken on more of an active role at the company... well, I just don’t have the time to dedicate myself.”

  “Well, when we become engaged in matrimony...”

  “When?”

  “OK... if, we become man and wife. Then you can take a more relaxed role in the company.”

  Isabel continued to walk down the snaking coral path. “I will sit at the helm of the company once my father steps down from his position. And I don’t want to be a ceremonial figurehead.”

  “Don’t you want children?”

  “Yes. Yes I do.”

  “Good.
So do I. We can start working on it as soon as you wish.”

  Miss Black suddenly shouted in despair. “Jesus wept... Talking about procreation is strictly forbidden. You’ll both get me sacked!”

  George ignored Miss Black and stared at a disgruntled Isabel. “But one day you will have to make a choice between work and children.”

  “I thought this was supposed to be about romance? But it’s turned into something akin to the Spanish Inquisition.”

  “Sorry. It’s just I really like you and wouldn’t want to have a false start.”

  “I suppose you don’t have much time for false starts, considering your advanced years.”

  George winced. “Your sharp wit cuts like a knife.”

  “Don’t worry... I still think you’re a very handsome gentleman.”

  “You do?”

  Isabel felt glad that Miss Black had given up chaperoning, instead choosing to suck boiled sweets under the shade of a tree. “Most definitely.” It hadn’t escaped Isabel’s attention that George’s cheeks were flushed with colour after hearing her compliment. “I do believe the fearless Dr Coldstone is blushing.”

  “I’ve never had a woman say that to me.”

  “Whatever.”

  George did his best to keep a straight face. “Honest.”

  “I know of your reputation for wine, women and song. I bet you’ve laid with women in every corner in of the world.”

  “OK. What I meant was, that I’ve not had a women say how handsome I am in English.”

  Isabel felt her confidence leave her. “What languages have your women spoken?”

  “Several.”

  “I probably shouldn’t ask... but I’m intrigued to know how many of these exotic women you have known intimately.”

  George had long accepted that truth was the best policy. “I can speak Arabic, French, Zulu, East African Click and Portuguese oh as well as Spanish of course.” However he could feel sweat building up on his brow and quickly wiped it dry with the back of his sleeve. “And I have met women who speak in each of those.”

  “Well I speak English and Liverpudlian.”

  “I hate that accent.”

  “It’s a necessary evil with working in the city, I’m afraid.”

  George felt his heart tighten while he dwelled on Isabel’s beauty. “Your father is worried that I will not make you a good husband. But believe me; I will be loyal as a pet dog.”

  “I like obedient dogs.”

  “And that beautiful necklace I see.”

  Isabel reached to her neck to touch the gold necklace. “My father passed it down to me when I turned eighteen. It belonged to my mother.”

  “I will decorate you in fine jewellery to match it.”

  “May I ask..?”

  “Of course. Fire away.”

  “How come you have never married?”

  “Well.” George chuckled nervously. “That was quite a broadside.”

  “Sorry.”

  “But I will let you into a secret... I married when I was seventeen.”

  “What happened?”

  George glanced down at his feet while he strolled at a leisurely pace. “She could not cope with me being away for long periods. She told me of her worries but I did not listen to them. As a young selfish man... I was having too much fun to worry about my wife.”

  “What happened in the end?”

  “She left me... and is now married to a vicar.” George bit his lip. “I understand she had every right too.”

  “You were winning me over until the last few minutes.”

  “But like I said. I was young. I have now, finally grown up with no wish for future exhibitions.” George could see the worry played out on Isabel’s face. He glanced over to see if Miss Black was still vigilant, but sighed with relief that she had disappeared. He then took hold of Isabel’s hand and peered into her hazel eyes. “Seeing you made me realise what I have been missing. If I kept abusing love... How would I ever truly be happy?”

  “I’m glad that you see me in such I light. I really am.”

  “Then, marry me.”

  “George?”

  “I don’t need an answer now. You can take your time. But as far as I’m concerned, you’re the woman for me.”

  Isabel covered her mouth with her gloved hand. She then let out a giggle before glancing back towards the huge mansion. “I have to go back.”

  “Call me a romantic fool. If I could write you a thousand letters and a million poems I would. But all I can say is that I love you.”

  ~

  Isabel paced along the long corridor towards her father’s study. Her excitement almost made her pace break into a run. Pushing open the door with both hands she spotted Albert writing a letter. “Father, you never guessed what happened to me today?”

  “I dare not think. Poor Miss Black has been going about her chores as if she has seen a ghost.”

  “I have a wedding proposal.”

  “Bloody hell.” Albert dropped his pen, not noticing the spatter of ink on his letter. “Just wait until I see him.”

  “Father, I thought you’d be happy.”

  “But you’ve only met once since you were a child. What’s he bloody thinking about?”

  Weighed down by confusion, Isabel leant against the closed door. “But you know him well? He’s not a stranger.”

  “I know, I know. But still? I think the guy has been cursed by some shaman or something... He’s not acting normal.”

  “I was really shocked too.” Isabel’s face then broke into a smile, which melted her father’s heart. “But pleasantly so. I found him very charming, and he’s lost none of his looks.”

  “Just look at the smile... It would suggest one has made up her mind? Do you think it could work?”

  Isabel stepped up to Albert then threaded her arms around his waist. “We’ll take our time... but I’ve not seen anything I don’t particularly like.” She rested her head on her father’s chest, smelling the rich cologne she has always known. “I mean, he has history... quite a lot of history.”

  “True. But there is nothing you can do about that. A long as he’s not killed, then all you can do is judge him from today onwards.” Albert reached down and kissed his daughter’s crown. “Love you.”

  Chapter 8

  George shielded his face from the sun until he stepped into the shade offered by the gazebo. Inside he found Albert reading the business section of a broadsheet newspaper. “I can guess what you want to talk to me about, Old Boy.”

  “Asking my daughter to marry you? On a first date?”

  “I got a little carried away with such beauty. I’m sorry... I just wanted to express myself fully before I go back down to London tonight.”

  Albert folded the paper and placed it on the table beside the breakfast tray. “You’re a mature adult... stop acting a fool. What’s got into you, Man?”

  “I don’t know... but I’m serious.”

  “I’m just shocked... so out of character of the rough and tumble action man I know.”

  “I’m being true to myself. The last twenty years was me running away from it all.”

  “Running away, maybe. But you found riches and fame in the process.”

  George broke into smug snigger. “Yes.” But he quickly returned to giving his testimony. “But seeing Isabel’s face... it made me want to stop running.”

  “You promise?”

  “You have my word.”

  “Well, it’s a good job that Isabel is onboard with the idea.” George then rose from his wicker chair. “To the smoking room for a celebratory whisky and cigar.”

  “But it’s not even eleven.”

  “You can drop the perfect son-in-law act now. I know George Coldstone, and I know he is a hard drinker. So let’s open that vintage.”

  George chuckled with a hint of sarcasm. “I thought you had forgotten about the vintage.”

  “Not a chance... George. Not a chance.” Albert walked up the lawn back towards
the mansion. He couldn’t stop smiling as he thought of finally getting his daughter wed. “So, I’ll organise the formal engagement at the guild hall of the society. Make it official for you and Isabel. You’ll have to invite your parents.”

  “My parents... yeah my parents.”

  “What’s up?”

  “Nothing... I’ll inform them when I can” George opened the door. “Nothing at all.”

  “Why don’t you stay the night? Help me finish my bottle?”

  “I can’t. I have a buyer for my apartment in Kensington, so already bought my ticket for London.”

  “Darn... I’ll just have to finish it alone.”

  George took a step back into the room. “Don’t worry, Old Boy. I’ll help you finish it before I go.”

  ~

  Thick smog lay close to the ground turning people into shadow puppets while buildings appeared like mere silhouettes. George could still taste the whisky on his lips as he strolled along the crowded cobbled streets towards the city’s train station. Hands firmly inside the deep pockets of his frockcoat, he kept his eyes on the cobbles in order to avoid standing in droppings from the carthorses.

  George’s bladder ached, causing him to dart into an alley where he decided to relieve himself against the brickwork. He sighed with relief while he listened to the trickle.

  “Penny for the blind”

  “What? Can’t you see I’m having a piss?” George then realised his mistake. “Sorry, that was rather rude of me... but surely you could hear it?”

  “Penny for the blind.”

  George turned his head and saw a young boy holding a tin car. “I don’t believe in charity... But I’ll give you a toffee. How about that?”

  “Come on, Sir. Please.”

  “You obviously not that bad if you’re turning down toffee. Go on, sod off.”

  The young boy shook his tin once more. “Aye. Come on... a man in such a fine coat can surely afford a measly penny.”

  “I thought you were blind? How do you know about my coat?”

  “Err... I could smell the fine cotton, Sir.”