Actions

Work Header

Rating:
Archive Warning:
Category:
Fandom:
Relationship:
Additional Tags:
Language:
English
Collections:
Peja's Wonderful World of Makebelieve Import
Stats:
Published:
2020-11-05
Words:
1,202
Chapters:
1/1
Comments:
3
Kudos:
6
Hits:
1,234

My Sweet Valentine

Summary:

the ever romantic William sends Valentine cards to his lady fair but never receives anything in return until one year he does.  Will he find out who it is?

Work Text:


My Sweet Valentine
by Lilithangel
 
 
William carefully wrote out a card filling it with his best words of love.  He had picked out the perfect bouquet to go with it expressing all his deepest affection and admiration for Cecily.  One day he would pluck up the courage to recite his poetry to her directly but for now the sanctity of Valentine day gave him the anonymity to truly express his feelings.
 
Although he knew in his rational mind that there would be no cards waiting for him his poet’s heart kept him watching out for the postman.  The touch of his mother’s hand on his shoulder showed he hadn’t been as careful at hiding his feelings as he thought so he resolutely returned to the salon picked up his book and tried not to listen for the double knock.
 
It was testament to Thomas Hardy’s genius that William did not hear the double knock wrapped up as he was in the beautiful Bathsheba and the faithful Gabriel, his mind awhirl with poetic stanzas to Gabriel’s nobility and concern for the proud Bathsheba.
 
When the maid came in with an envelope it barely crossed his mind to expect a valentine so he could be forgiven his gasp of delight when he pulled out a beautiful handmade card.  The front had a garland of red roses (pure and lovely reward of merit), and inside jonquils, daisies, and baby’s breath (love me, innocence and everlasting love) were garlanded around cupids (he blushed when he realised the cupids were older than normal with strong pale chests and the garlands barely covering anything) who were reclining on long grass (submission).
 
He knew it wasn’t considered manly to know as much about flowers as he did but it had been an important poem and he’d wanted to get it right.  The message in the card was a little confusing and without a signature he couldn’t begin to guess who would have sent it.
 
The penned verse from Shakespeare’s sonnet 29 only added to his confusion.  It really wasn’t what he would have selected for a valentine but it set his heart a flutter for some reason.
 
Haply I think on thee, and then my state,
Like to the lark at break of day arising
From sullen earth, sings hymns at heaven's gate;
For thy sweet love remembered such wealth brings
That then I scorn to change my state with kings.
 
There was a valentine supper dance that night.  He hadn’t intended to go but now he had to.  As he bowed to each young lady he considered her hopefully, looking for any sign that she had been the one to send the card but all treated him with their normal casual distain.  His most gracious Cecily ignored him as always, her beauty and poise so far above his humble heart he couldn’t even let it break.
 
People were flirting a bit more than normal with ladies and gentlemen wearing small tokens and looking for that little spark of recognition that would reveal the giver.
 
As the night wore on William had to admit in his secret heart that his valentine was either not there or it had been a cruel joke.  He would believe it of some of the gentlemen who took such delight in tormenting him but he wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of breaking down.
 
He slipped out onto a balcony to compose himself before bidding the hostess farewell.  It was early but he would much rather be at home with his books and his card no matter who it had come from.
 
On the top of the stone handrail someone had left a single rose and he picked it up and considered it sadly.  An anonymous valentine had given him joy but it would fade as quickly as the rose.
 
“Why so sad?” a voice interrupted his musings.
 
Looking around he saw a shadow in one corner and the small glow of a cigarillo in the dark.
 
“I did not realise the balcony was occupied,” he said with a quick bow, “I will not intrude.”
 
“You didn’t answer my question,” the voice said.  It was male and the figure appeared large but he couldn’t make out any other details and didn’t recognise the voice.  “Why so sad on such a romantic day?”
 
“Merely a passing melancholy,” he prevaricated, not wanting to share his despair with a stranger.
 
“Such a pretty face should never be melancholy,” the voice said and he stiffened with shock.
 
“I beg your pardon?” he tried to keep his voice steady and not to blush.
 
“Surely you are aware of your beauty,” the voice said.  He could hear amusement in the tone.
 
“You may find it amusing to mock me sir, but I assure you I do not.”  He turned away to hide his discomfort.
 
“And I assure you I do not mock.  Were you not pleased by my card?  I thought it quite clear.”
 
“You sent the card?  I don’t understand.”  William turned to face the mysterious figure his embarrassment swept away by sudden and unexpected anger.
 
“I have been observing you for some time and wanted to express my appreciation.”  The glow of the cigarillo winked out.
 
“I do not appreciate being made sport of,” William said turning to leave.
 
A strong hand reached out and pulled him around and back so he was held tight against a firm chest.  The forgotten rose was plucked from his hand and brushed across his face.
 
“This is the noblest sport of all is it not?” the voice caressed his ear the puff of air on his neck making him shiver.  “The pursuit of love.”  The rose brushed down his jaw and settled against his throat.
 
“You presume much and risk more with such pursuits,” he said.  Something about the strength that held him kept him from trying to escape and stirred strange feelings in him.
 
“I would garland you with flowers,” the voice continued, “lay you out on the grass and accept your surrender.”
 
“Sir you presume too much,” William gasped and now he did struggle.  Whatever strange feelings shook in his breast he couldn’t allow such impugning of his masculinity.
 
The hands held him for a moment longer, reminding him of their strength and then he was released with a slight push.  When he recovered and spun around to confront his tormentor he was alone on the balcony.
 
“We will meet again sweet cupid,” the voice said from below.
 
William didn’t know what to think about his feelings after the encounter.  His shaking hand picked up the discarded rose and absently followed the path the stranger had taken across his face and throat.
 
His conscious mind had never thought of men in a romantic fashion but it was hard to deny the churning in his stomach and the pounding of his heart.  He needed to rest and clear his head, make sense of what the stranger had said and how it made him feel.  Somebody wanted him, maybe even loved him and it was a heady sensation.
 
Master William was normally such a conscientious guest that Mrs Harvey was quite taken aback when he left without taking his leave of her and without talking to anyone.  If it had been anyone but him she would have been offended but he was so very harmless and always willing to help that she put it down to love and forgave him.
 

END