A Long Story
Chapter twenty-two
Aknock on the door ripped through the heavy blanket that hung over the moment, and Christopher felt Juliet flinch at the sound.
He smiled at her reassuringly and then rose to open the door.
Two serving maids bustled into the chamber, quickly setting the table with steaming dishes and then equally quickly excused themselves.
“Eat,” Christopher urged her gently as he took his seat once more, holding out the breadbasket to her. “Even from here, I can hear your stomach growling like a ferocious beast.” He grinned at her.
A fetching blush came to Juliet’s cheeks, and she averted her gaze before fixing him with a chiding look. “And here I thought you were a gentleman, Lord Lockhart.”
The smile died on Christopher’s face and hers followed just as swiftly as she saw his expression. For a long moment, silence reigned before Juliet reached across the table and took his hand once more. “Tell me, Christopher, and I swear I will not think less of you.”
Dumbfounded, Christopher stared at her, wondering how she knew. Could she truly look into his heart and know where it hurt? Where fear lingered? “Very well,” Christopher mumbled, nodding his head up and down. “I…” He inhaled a deep breath and willed himself not to look away. “I have a child.”
Christopher flinched when he saw Juliet’s jaw drop and her eyes go round.
“A…A child?” she stammered, staring at him in incomprehension.
“A child? You have a child?” Her forehead furrowed as she leaned closer, her green eyes searching his face, seeking something that would help her understand the words he had spoken.
Sighing, Christopher nodded. Of course, he had expected her to be…
shocked. How could she not be? Yet it was not what he feared.
What he feared was that her green eyes would no longer look at him the way they always had.
“A son,” he said, taken aback by the sudden surge of pride that welled up in his heart and swung in his voice as he thought of him. “He…He is five years old.”
Juliet’s eyes closed. “He is the reason you left,” she whispered, and her hands tightened on his.
Christopher was relieved that she did not shy away from him but instead held on tighter. “Yes.”
Her eyes opened and looked into his once more. “And he is the one who awaits your return in Ireland.”
“Yes. I…I don’t like leaving him alone for too long.
The only reason I ever leave Ireland is because of Mrs. O’Brien.
She is his nurse, but she feels almost like family.
She has been with us from the beginning and dotes on him as any grandmother would.
” Belatedly, he realized that he was smiling, and a deep longing to return home and see his son welled up in his chest.
“What about his mother?” Juliet asked tentatively, her voice unsteady and the look in her eyes marked with fear. “Is she in Ireland as well? Are you…Are you married?” Her hands slackened within his.
As though on instinct, Christopher held on to Juliet tighter. “No!” he exclaimed, his eyes fixed upon hers, and then again, “No, I’m not married. I never was.”
Juliet’s eyes closed in relief, and Christopher’s heart rejoiced at the very sight.
Part of him had feared that she would leave the moment she learned of his son.
Despite everything he knew about her, her kindness, her understanding heart, this fear had lingered in the back of his head all these years, keeping his lips sealed and the truth hidden.
Yet she was still here.
After exhaling a slow breath, Juliet’s eyes opened to look into his once more.
He saw hope there, restrained but visible, as well as curiosity and the need to understand.
“Will you tell me what happened? How…How do you have a son? Who’s his mother?
And why…why do you now live in Ireland?” Her brows drew down.
“Is his mother Irish? How did you meet her? Where is she now?”
The questions flew from her lips, and Christopher realized that his leaving home, England even, had to have been on Juliet’s mind a lot.
Deep down, Christopher had always hoped so, had wondered whether she ever thought of him, whether she had ever stopped thinking of him.
They had been close friends, but then years had passed without words exchanged between them.
Christopher sighed. “It is a long story,” he repeated, a tentative smile coming to his face, “but I will tell you everything you wish to know. I promise.”
Juliet nodded, a grateful smile tickling the corners of her mouth. “Thank you. I’ve been wondering for so long. I truly wish to know.” Yet tension continued to linger in her hands. Christopher could feel it as he could feel his own.
Urging Juliet to eat, Christopher sat across from her, his own plate untouched except for the crust of bread he was picking apart with his fingers, crumbs falling onto the tabletop.
“It all began the night my brother died,” he said slowly, his gaze distant, but his mind well aware that she was watching him, hanging on every word.
“It is a night I am not proud of, but one I also cannot regret.” He cast her a sad smile.
Juliet’s green eyes held his as she reached out and placed her hand upon his. Even though he could feel her trembling, there was something kind and strong in the way she reached out to soothe his fears, and Christopher loved her all the more for it.
“You know that my parents were never all that…fond of me,” Christopher began, his jaw clenched as he remembered one of the darkest nights of his life.
“We were all heartbroken to learn of Sebastian’s death, but…
” He closed his eyes, recalling only too vividly the way his parents had looked at him that night.
“Father and Mother grieved, yes, but fear soon came to their eyes, fear when they realized Sebastian was truly gone and that now…I was the heir.” Rising to his feet, Christopher paced to the door and then back, anger humming in his veins at the memory.
“I remember the exact moment they realized that I would now be the future of the earldom and…to put it mildly, they didn’t like it. ”
Compassion rested in Juliet’s eyes as she rose to her feet and moved toward him, her hands reaching out as they always had.
Always had she been the counterweight to his parents’ callous dismissal.
“They were wrong to treat you thus,” she whispered, dipping her head a little to look into his downcast eyes.
“I shall never understand why they favored your brother. You were both their children, and you are such a good man. You always have been. In the end, it does not matter why. What matters is that it was their choice and not your fault. You did nothing wrong.” She shrugged helplessly.
“Who knows why they were unable to see how wonderful you are.” She smiled up at him, gently reaching out to touch his face.
“It is their loss. Do you hear me, Kit? Do not try to find fault within yourself.”
Impulsively, Christopher drew her tightly into his arms and held her close.
He rested his chin on the top of her head and closed his eyes.
This was precisely who she had always been to him, the one who knew him best, the one who always managed to see his good side, who held his hand and told him what his heart longed to hear.
“I missed you so much,” he murmured, his arms tightening upon her.
“From the very first, you were the one I loved most, the one I needed most. Every decision I made, I made based on your moral guidance, not my parents’.
You’ve always been my conscience, and what I feared most of my life was to disappoint you, to lose your respect.
” He breathed in slowly and then took a step back, looking down at her eyes.
“It is why I left,” he finally said. “Because I could not bear the thought of you turning away from me the way they always did. I did something that night…” He closed his eyes and shook his head.
“It was foolish and thoughtless, but I felt…”
Her hand rose to cup his cheek. “Why did you not come to me? Of course, I would’ve been there for you. Your brother had just died and—”
“I wanted to,” Christopher interrupted, remembering the desperate need he had felt in that moment.
“You were the first thing on my mind, and I knew that I needed you. I was almost out the door when my father called me back. He warned me not to embarrass him, to not embarrass the family. He told me I was now the heir.” Christopher gritted his teeth.
“He all but spat the word. He said I finally had to grow up, that I could no longer run around and do as I pleased. He said I now had a responsibility to the earldom and that I could not simply ride over to Whickerton Grove in the middle of the night and climb up to your window.”
The expression on Juliet’s face hardened in a way Christopher had never seen before.
Anger flashed in her green eyes, and the hand that cupped his cheek held him with more vehemence.
“He was wrong,” she snapped, something protective resonating in her voice.
“Your brother had just passed, and you were heartbroken; of course, he was wrong. I never would’ve sent you away or been disappointed in you. ”
Brushing a stray curl from her face, Christopher smiled down at her.
“I never thought you would. Yet…” He sighed.
“Everything changed in that moment, and I did not know what to do. I felt overwhelmed, and when my father told me I could not see you, I simply rushed out of the house and rode away. I did not know where I was going, but eventually I found myself in the village, facing the tavern, the very one from which I often had to drag my inebriated brother home.” He huffed out a deep breath, shrugging his shoulders.
“I loved him dearly, but we both know that he liked to drink and gamble and…who knows what else? He was not the responsible type, and yet somehow he could do no wrong.” Christopher did not want to dislike his brother for his behavior; yet the way their parents had always favored him despite his shortcomings did not make it easy.
Perhaps if this feeling had not stood between them, they could have been closer.
Now, it was too late. His brother was gone, and there would be no do-over.
“What happened then?” Juliet asked carefully, and the look in her eyes revealed how torn she was. On the one hand, she clearly wished to know, to understand while, on the other, a part of her feared what he might say.
Christopher swallowed hard. “I went inside, and for the first time in my life, I got drunk. Of course, I’m not proud of it, but that night…
” He shook his head. “It felt as though nothing mattered any longer.” He met Juliet’s gaze reluctantly, wondering how to put into words what had happened next.
Even now, he could hear his late father’s voice, demanding he show decorum and not speak of such matters in the presence of a lady.
Of course, his father would surely have suffered an apoplexy if he could see his son now.
At an inn.
With Lady Juliet.
Alone.
“I do not remember much of that night,” Christopher finally said, holding Juliet’s gaze instead of averting his eyes like a coward.
“What I do remember is waking the next morning in a bed that was not mine.” He tried to swallow the lump in his throat.
“With…a woman whose name I could not recall.” He felt her tense in his arms, her eyes wide and unblinking.
“I’m so sorry,” he whispered, seeing his worst fears realized.
“I never wanted to hurt you. I’m so very sorry.
I wish I could undo it, and yet…” He shrugged helplessly, thinking of his son’s sweet, innocent face and his wide blue eyes. “I do not.”