A Peace Offering
Chapter forty-three
Christopher knew that as the Earl of Lockhart, he belonged at Fartherington Hall.
It was his ancestral home and his duty to see to his people.
He had told himself that he would return there once he was married to Juliet; however, their wedding day had come and gone and yet they remained at Whickerton Grove.
Whickerton Grove was home. It meant love and family and companionship.
It held laughter and joy and hope. Whereas Fartherington Hall was like a dark cloud hanging over his head connected to all the painful memories of his past. Indeed, he ought to speak to his mother, hear her explanations for himself.
Every day, Christopher told himself that the next day he would go.
He did not, though.
Juliet remained patient, as always, with him.
Most days they hardly thought of anything else but their new family, enjoying blissful moments alone together as well as with Sebastian and the rest of the Whickerton clan.
Yet now and then, he looked into her eyes and knew that one day he would have to face the demons of his past.
The truth Juliet had finally revealed to him after a lifetime of not knowing had completely knocked him off his feet.
There was this part of him that raged with anger, wishing to yell into his mother’s face and lay blame at her feet for all the dark moments of his life.
Yet another, the very same part that loved and cherished the woman he had married felt compassion.
The dark part of his soul did not wish to feel it, but it seemed he could not help it.
It was there, tempering every thought of retribution, of returning what he had suffered.
At first, Christopher shied away from imagining that night.
He had heard Juliet’s words, and yet once they had been spoken, he had not returned to them, not looked at them more closely.
He had not dared. Yet at night, every once in a while, they would find him in his dreams and he would see not his father and mother and older brother attacked by a band of criminals, but instead himself, Juliet and little Bash.
Indeed, it was that dream, that thought that made him feel even more deeply about what his mother had suffered.
Yes, she had done wrong by him, but perhaps…
it had not been her fault. What if it had been him?
What if it had been Juliet? If something so heinous happened to them, would they have recovered? How would they have coped?
Christopher could not say, and it was that thought that frightened him. Yes, it could have been him. It could have been Juliet. It could have been little Bash.
And then one morning, Christopher woke up, and he knew that the time had come.
Somehow, without him even saying a single word, Juliet knew as well.
Those kind, patient green eyes looked into his, and she simply knew.
She left Sebastian in the care of her sisters and then called for the carriage, diverting all questions as to their destination.
She took his hand and led him outside, and then they were off.
Compared to Whickerton Grove, Fartherington Hall was cold and lonely, its halls dark and unwelcoming.
Juliet’s presence by his side was like a light in the dark, and he clung to her hand.
Kindly, she bid the butler to inform the dowager countess that her son and daughter-in-law had arrived and were waiting for her in the drawing room.
The moments it took for his mother to join them were among the longest of Christopher’s life.
They felt like forever, and he could have sworn he was close to wearing a hole in the carpet in front of the fireplace.
And then his mother suddenly stood in the doorway and his feet pulled to a sudden halt.
For a second, anger surged into his heart and his mouth opened to lay accusations at her feet, as he had every right to do.
Then, however, Christopher looked into her face and…saw her. Saw the mother he had always longed for. The mother he had always hoped she would be for him one day.
Suddenly, the lines of her face were no longer hard, marked by indifference and disinterest. Her eyes had never quite lingered upon him, never quite seen him as though she could not bear to look at his face.
He remembered well the tightness of her lips, the corners of her mouth slightly downturned, a clear sign of her disapproval and disappointment.
Now Christopher saw none of that. Her eyes were misted with tears and looked into his in a way they never had before. She not only saw him, but she also allowed him to see her.
Her regret.
Her pain.
Her broken heart.
“I’m still angry with you,” Christopher told her, needing her to know but also to remind himself.
Swallowing, his mother nodded, then stepped closer.
“As you have every right to be,” she said in a voice heavy with emotions.
Christopher could not recall ever having heard her speak like this.
She glanced at Juliet on the settee and a smile came to her face, one that spoke of gratitude and affection.
“I’m so glad you decided to come today.” Her eyes returned to him.
“Congratulations on your wedding. I wish you both all the best…no matter where your path might lead you.”
“And our son?” Christopher growled, a challenge meant to test her, to taunt her, to see her fail.
Sighing, his mother nodded. “Yes, your son. I do hope he is well and…that you all,” she smiled at Juliet once more, “will be a family from now on.” Carefully, almost hesitantly, her eyes moved to look into his. “Would you…permit me to meet him?”
Christopher crossed his arms over his chest. “Why?” Indeed, a part of him wanted her to fail, to see her revealed as a liar.
He wanted to yell and rant and not have her duck her head as though she truly regretted what had happened, what she had done.
Her regret was taking the wind out of his sails, and he was not yet ready to watch his anger be swept away.
Taking a step toward him, his mother wrung her hands.
“I…I wish I knew what he looked like. I…” She shrugged, a deeper explanation failing her.
“I’m sorry I hid him from you,” she whispered, a look of utter incredulity upon her face, as though she could not believe she had truly done it.
Then her chin rose, and she met his eyes with a determined look.
“I was wrong. What I did was wrong, and…I’m deeply sorry. There…are no words.”
That was something Christopher understood. A myriad of emotions raged within him, and yet he could not find the words to do them justice, to express what it was he felt. “I’m sorry,” he suddenly heard himself blurt out, for a moment uncertain if he had truly spoken.
His mother’s eyes widened in surprise before a slight frown creased her forehead.
Christopher cleared his throat. “I’m sorry for…what happened to you. I wish…I had known.” He felt his shoulders slump a little, the tension that had held him suddenly waning. “You should have told me.”
His mother nodded. “I know.” Something utterly vulnerable came to her pale eyes. “I couldn’t though.”
Christopher swallowed. “I know,” he replied without thinking, realizing that he truly did understand.
Indeed, he, too, had been hesitant to speak to Sebastian about Alice, about how the boy had been conceived, about…
why his mother had left. He had not wanted Bash to feel abandoned, unwanted, unloved, and although he had known that his motives for wanting to conceal the truth from his son had been pure, he had known deep down that lies could never be the right path.
Yet he had been careful on how he phrased the truth. After all, Sebastian was an innocent little boy. How did one go about telling one’s child that his mother had not wanted him without breaking his little heart?
Christopher looked into his mother’s tear-misted eyes, knowing that there had been no way for her to tell him the truth without breaking his heart. What would his life have been like if he had known the truth? He could not imagine it. Indeed, his parents’ choice had been an impossible one.
“You belong here at Fartherington Hall,” his mother suddenly said, dabbing a handkerchief to her eyes.
“You and your family.” She nodded to give her words more emphasis, her jaw set determinedly.
Her eyes, however, remained filled with sorrow.
“I shall make arrangements and leave within a fortnight.” She cast him a small smile.
“It is time happiness returned to these halls. Laughter and joy.” She nodded again, and the smile on her face brightened.
“Yes, it will be good to have another little Sebastian roam these halls.” She sighed.
“I can only hope his fate will be happier than his uncle’s.
” Inhaling a deep breath, his mother then moved toward him.
Slow steps carried her closer, the look in her eyes marked by uncertainty.
More than once, Christopher thought she would stop and turn away, but she did not. She kept her feet in place, pushing them to carry her toward him. He braced himself, thrown off balance by two contradicting desires: to remain and to flee.
And then his mother stood before him, her pale, tear-misted eyes looking into his.
A tentative smile made the corners of her lips twitch as she hesitantly lifted her hands and then placed them upon his chest, right above his wildly beating heart.
“I’m so sorry, Christopher,” she whispered as tears rolled down her cheeks.
“I need you to know that you are a wonderful man. You’ve proven that more than once; only I was too blind to see it.
” Her hands tensed, and the look in her eyes became hard, yet imploring.
“That man is no more your father than Alice is Sebastian’s mother.
Do you hear me? Do not for a second believe that anything…
he did reflects upon you. Is that understood?
” Her tone was hard, harsh even, and yet Christopher was surprised to realize that for the first time she spoke to him as a mother.
His mother.
Holding nothing back.
For his benefit alone and not hers.
A deep breath rushed from his lungs. “I understand,” he finally said, nodding his head.
It still felt odd to speak to her in such a way, to have her look at him like this, but perhaps with time, he would get used to it.
Perhaps…“Stay,” he finally said. “There is no need for you to leave. We are quite happy at Whickerton Grove for the time being. Perhaps…Perhaps you would like to come visit us sometime.”
A sob escaped his mother’s lips and for a second, Christopher thought her knees would buckle. His hands reached out to grasp her arms, but she steadied herself quickly, the look upon her face telling him how grateful she was for this chance.
“Thank you,” she whispered in a choked voice. “I’d like that very much.”
Over his mother’s head, Christopher met Juliet’s gaze. Her smile warmed his heart, and he knew that whatever lay ahead, they would be fine as long as they were together.