A Lifetime in a Few Words #2
Juliet’s eyes grew round. “Ireland?” For a moment, she merely stared at him as though uncertain whether he truly had said what she had heard. “Why…? What…?”
Christopher shrugged, unwilling to tell her everything yet.
Not after he had found her outside with Mr. MacKinnear, arm in arm, faces turned to one another in a way that had made him want to punch the Scot in the face.
“People speak English there,” he said with a jesting tone before shrugging once more.
“It is a beautiful place, remote and distant, and yet close to England.”
“But why…why would you tell people you went to travel the continent?”
“Because it is what people want to hear,” he replied, sickened by all the expectations put on him—put on everyone—for reasons that held no meaning at all.
“A young Lord is to travel the continent, is he not? It is expected of him. He has to broaden his horizon, see the world, experience all manners of…adventures before returning to England to fulfill his societal obligations, marry and provide an heir, who in turn is expected to do these things as well.” Gritting his teeth, Christopher shook his head.
“My mother highly disapproves of my choice, but then again, she has never approved of anything I did.”
Sadness rested in Juliet’s eyes. “Is she the only one who knows?”
Christopher wondered if the sadness he saw was for him or for herself because he had not told her.
“Nora knows as well. I invited her to come and stay with me more than once, but she refused.” A harsh breath rushed from his lungs.
“Societal expectations once again. Indeed, so long as all expectations are met, happiness or the lack thereof are of no consequence.”
Juliet nodded knowingly. “When the two of you came to visit Whickerton Grove last year, she looked…so very sad. Not at all like herself, like I remembered her.” Her hands tightened upon the teacup. “Her husband… Now that he has… Is she…?” Tentative green eyes looked up into his.
Christopher shook his head. “She is not heartbroken, far from it. I think she might even be relieved. After all, she never truly cared for him. Only now, she is without a purpose. My mother speaks of seeing her married again as soon as her mourning period has ended. However, Nora is determined not to.”
Juliet nodded again. “Then what will she do?”
“I do not know. I believe neither does she. Perhaps all she needs is time.”
Juliet’s eyes glanced down at the cup in her hands before she brought it up to her lips, taking a tentative sip. “What about you?” she asked, finally releasing the cup and setting it down on the table. “Will you return to Ireland? Will you return…home?”
Christopher wondered why she would not ask for more details.
He could see that she was curious, that there were questions.
He had told her that he had gone to Ireland, that he had found a home there, but had not told her more.
And she had not asked. She was not asking.
Did she not care to know? Was she perhaps afraid of the answer?
Christopher nodded. “I will.” The crestfallen look that came to her face made his heart soar.
“When?” The word fell from her lips in no more than a whisper, her eyes downcast, not daring to look at him.
“I have not decided yet.” She looked up as he pushed to his feet and then stepped toward her. “Are we still friends?” he was surprised to hear himself asking.
Juliet swallowed, then rose as well, her green eyes blinking with tears. “I…I’ve always hoped so.” She held his gaze. “Are we?”
Christopher inhaled a deep breath, then reached out and grasped her hands. “Friends until the world stops turning,” he whispered, reciting the vow they had made up as children. “Friends until the end of time. Friends for now and always. I shall be yours—”
“And you shall be mine,” Juliet finished for him, her smile widening in such a heartwarming way that Christopher was tempted to pull her into his arms then and there.
“You remember,” Juliet whispered, tears glistening in her eyes as her hands grasped his more tightly. “I never thought you would. I…”
“Of course, I do,” Christopher assured her, knowing he had recited their vow countless times in his head whenever his longing for her had nearly brought him to his knees.
And now she was right here. Her hands in his, and anything was possible.
Dimly, Christopher heard the soft drumming of rain upon the windowpanes, the soft whooshing of wind as it swirled around outside. “Do you remember,” he whispered, “that night of All Hallows’ Eve?”
Instantly, Juliet’s eyes widened before they swept to the windows, taking in the downpour outside with a look of utter disbelief. “No, you cannot possibly…” Her voice trailed off, and she stared at him. “Christopher, we were children then. We cannot—”
Clasping her hands within his own, Christopher tugged her after him as he rushed to the terrace doors and threw them open.
Instantly, the rushing sound of wind and rain filled his ears and the fresh smell of wet ground drifted to his nose.
The sky was dark as though night had already fallen, and he blinked out into a dim world.
“Christopher, we cannot. We—”
With a swift tug, he pulled Juliet over the threshold and out into the pouring rain.
He felt the small droplets like pinpricks upon his skin, his clothes soaked through within moments.
Yet he kept going, a wide grin upon his face as he looked back at Juliet, her steps slower, but no longer hesitant.
A wide smile stood upon her face as she closed her eyes and lifted her face to the sky. Never had she looked more beautiful.