A New World
Chapter thirty-eight
Christopher watched as his son stared at the world around him with wide eyes.
His little mouth hung a little bit open, and his eyes darted from tree to tree as though he had never in his life seen trees.
The carriage rumbled along the road, swaying gently despite the harsh winds that howled like wolves on the hunt.
The sky was overhung with dark clouds, promising rain in the near future and casting a shadow over the world.
Yet, to Sebastian, it seemed the world held nothing but wonder.
He sat in his seat with his little nose almost pressed up against the glass, staring and staring.
Never before had he left their home in Ireland.
Never before had he traveled anywhere else.
And now, the world seemed to hold nothing but wonder.
It was that childlike, innocent awe Christopher envied.
In Sebastian’s eyes, everything was beautiful and promising.
Christopher could not help but wonder if once upon a time, he, too, had felt like that.
Had he ever looked at the world in such a wide-eyed manner, delighted with everything he saw?
He could not recall. What he did recall were doubts and insecurities as well as the heartfelt wish to not be found wanting.
To this day, the memories of his childhood left a bitter aftertaste in his mouth. Christopher could not shake it, for the questions remained. What had he done to lose his parents’ love? Had he even ever possessed it?
Indeed, it was those very memories that kept Christopher from directing the driver toward Fartherington Hall. Yes, he had grown up there, and yet it was not home. Home was where Juliet was. Home was where people awaited him with joy and longing. Home was where their son would be welcomed.
“Father, it doesn’t look all that different from home, does it?” Little Bash exclaimed, prying his eyes away from the sights before him and turning to look at his father. “I like the trees. Trees are friendly and cheerful, are they not?”
Christopher chuckled. “I suppose a devoted climber such as yourself would think so.”
Bash chewed on his bottom lip. “Where we are going,” he began tentatively, “will there be trees there, too? Trees for climbing?”
Christopher heaved a deep sigh, knowing full well what his son was asking.
After spending his whole life on a small estate in Ireland, far from anywhere, he now found himself far away from everything he knew.
Of course, he would long for something familiar.
“I’m sure we will be able to find one,” Christopher told his son, reaching out to grasp his little hands.
“A tall and thick one, with wide branches and lots of leaves to hide behind.”
The smile on Sebastian’s face grew wider and wider. “You think we can build a tree house? A fort perhaps?”
Christopher nodded excitedly. “Of course. I would love nothing more.” Indeed, as a little boy, he, too, had dreamed of such a fortification. Yet his father had merely rolled his eyes and urged him to return to his studies.
Christopher had never asked again. “We will build it together, you and I,” he promised his son, watching the boy’s face light up in a way that made him catch his breath.
Yes, this was it. This was what he lived for; to see this look on his son’s face.
It was priceless, and he would do everything within his power to keep it there for as long as possible.
“Do you think Mrs. O’Brien can come visit us?” Sebastian asked suddenly, a tentative look in his eyes and a hint of sadness lingering upon the corners of his mouth.
Sighing, Christopher reached out and pulled his son onto his lap. “You miss her dearly, do you not?”
Snuggling into his father’s embrace, Bash nodded his head. “Do you think she’ll miss me, too?”
Christopher wrapped his arms tightly around his son.
“Oh, she will miss you every minute of every day,” he said cheerfully, trying to coax a smile from his son.
“She will be completely put off by finding none of her biscuits stolen from the kitchen. Indeed, she will be utterly confused to find no sticky fingerprints upon the piano and no heaps of dirt upon the floors.”
Sebastian giggled. “Where we are going, will there be marmalade?”
Tousling his son’s hair, Christopher pressed a kiss to his forehead. “As much as you can eat.”
With his son in his arms, Christopher looked out the window, excitement beginning to course through his veins as they drew closer to Whickerton Grove. Perhaps he ought to have sent a letter ahead. Would Sebastian feel overwhelmed if the entire Whickerton clan came pouring out the doors as one?
Despite his concern, Christopher chuckled, for he would not put it past them.
As kind and compassionate as they were, their curiosity often knew no bounds.
Perhaps he also ought to have sent a letter to Nora.
He knew that his sister would very much like to meet her nephew.
Whenever he had spoken to her of Sebastian, she had listened intently, eager to know everything he could tell her.
Indeed, he should not have hidden his son away for so long.
It had seemed like a good idea. He had wanted to protect him.
However, he had failed to see that by cutting him off from the rest of the world, from his family, he had also isolated him.
Closing his eyes, Christopher wished he could take back the past five years. If he could, he would do things differently. In retrospect, it all seemed so simple. How could he not have seen it?
“Is that it?” Little Bash asked as he leaned forward, finger pointing out the window. “Is that the house? Is that where we are going?”
Opening his eyes, Christopher found himself looking at Whickerton Grove.
It stood tall and proud, yet the way the afternoon sun peeked through the heavy gray clouds here and there and seemed to dance from window to window made it appear almost magical.
Tall evergreens stood everywhere, their colors mingling with the reds, browns and oranges of the fallen leaves blanketing the ground.
A deep sigh escaped his lips. “Yes, son, this is it. This is home.”
Once more, Sebastian sat with his eyes glued to the window, watching intently as Whickerton Grove drew closer.
The carriage rumbled along, picking up leaves here and there, as the winds brushed by on its way north.
Lights shone in many windows, and as they approached, the front door opened, and Christopher could see a woman step out.
Her brown hair glistened in the setting sun, and although he could not see her eyes, he knew them to be the most brilliant green he had ever seen.
Juliet.
On his lap, Sebastian seemed to be holding his breath. “Who is that?” Craning his neck backward, he looked at his father. “Is that her?”
The deep smile that came to Christopher’s face felt wonderful. “Yes, that is Juliet. She must be very eager to meet you.”
Again, Bash’s little teeth sank into his bottom lip as he nervously fidgeted in Christopher’s arms. Oddly, it reminded Christopher of Juliet. “Do you think she’ll like me?” he asked for at least the tenth time.
Christopher hoped that upon meeting Juliet, his son would find the assurance he so needed. “She’ll love you.” He tickled his son, grinning at him. “Believe me, it’s like a magic spell. No one can escape it. Whoever sets eyes upon you will instantly lose their heart.”
Sebastian giggled, excitement lighting up his eyes…and then the carriage pulled to a halt and his face fell.
“Courage,” Christopher whispered, taking his son’s hand as he alighted from the carriage, his eyes moving to meet Juliet’s.
He could see that she was nervous, her hands clasped together and slightly trembling.
Yet the light in her eyes told him everything he needed to know.
He could see her gaze moving from him as she tried to see past his shoulder, no doubt eager to glimpse the boy who was to be her son.
And then they stood there, facing each other. Christopher held his son’s hand safely within his own, fully aware that neither one of them had moved yet.
Juliet’s eyes swept over Sebastian’s face, her own lighting up with a myriad of emotions. Her cheeks glowed rosy, and her eyes were wide. She shivered, if from the cold or the excitement Christopher did not know. However, after inhaling a deep breath, she finally stepped forward.
Slow steps carried her down to them, her eyes never falling from Sebastian’s.
“Welcome,” she said gently, quietly, her voice trembling ever so slightly.
Again, she inhaled a deep breath, and then after finally granting Christopher another look into her moss-green eyes, she kneeled in front of Sebastian and looked into his face.
“You must be Sebastian. I am so happy to finally meet you. Your father has already told me the most wonderful things about you, and I must admit I’m quite eager to get to know you for myself. ”
Christopher watched as the tense expression on their son’s face broke and the hint of a smile flitted across his features. “Father calls me Bash.”
“Bash?” Juliet exclaimed with a wide smile. “Indeed, what a wonderful name! May I call you Bash as well?”
The smile on Sebastian’s face grew a fraction wider, and he nodded with eager eyes.
“How wonderful!” Juliet glanced up at Christopher before once more settling her attention on Sebastian. “You know, perhaps you could help me with something. I have at least a dozen marmalade tarts sitting uneaten in the drawing room.”
Christopher felt his son’s hand tighten within his own, his little eyes growing round as he held his breath in excitement.
“No one is brave enough to try them,” Juliet continued. “I was wondering if you would care to have one?”
Bash’s little head bobbed up and down eagerly. “Yes, please.”
“Do you like marmalade tarts?”
Again, his head bobbed up and down eagerly. “Yes, I do. Very much.”
Juliet clasped her hands together in joy.
“That is indeed marvelous.” She pushed to her feet and then slowly extended her hand to him.
“Shall I show you the way?” With a mischievous grin, she glanced at Christopher.
“Perhaps we will find one for your father as well. Or shall we keep them all to ourselves?”
Sebastian chuckled, and then, fraction by fraction, slid his other hand into hers.