Cornwall?s majestic cliffs were veiled in dense fog when Sebastian Ashdon, Earl of Hartland, stood on the precipice and looked ahead into a thick blanket of nothing. Stiff winds blew drops from the rough sea into his face. His dark woolen coat swayed with the breeze. Add in the audibly crashing but currently obscured waves below, he realized that he currently cut the perfect picture of a brooding Gothic hero.
Nevertheless, Sebastian stood firm. And brooding. Just a little while longer. Legs wide, steady. Eyes ahead, sure. His father?s mantra was not the only thing he remembered from before. He remembered everything. Picnics in the meadows and gardens around the manor, expeditions through the fields and forests, and swims in the sea. Yet, nothing felt, smelled, or sounded the same. Not the sea, not the air. And certainly not the ground beneath his feet.
Instead, the fog blocked his nostrils and the wet soaked his trousers. Pierced his bones. Staring off into the distance waiting for a flash of ? something to strike was vastly overrated. Especially, when one couldn?t actually see very far beyond one?s own nose. More than ten years away from England and Sebastian had forgotten how the weather would always interfere with a man?s best, or worst, intentions.
Irritated, most of all with himself, Sebastian pushed an errant lock of hair out of his eyes and turned around, leaving behind the vast sea he remembered from his childhood but had not been able to see upon his return.
As he strode along muddy fields, his fields, towards the waiting carriage Sebastian had to force himself to ignore the decay around him. Upon his arrival, he had immediately set out for his estate in Cornwall. The closer they came to the thriving lands of his youth and what was left of those, the more his rage grew.
It was time to prepare his coming out. There wouldn?t be any pastel-colored attire, nor a presentation at court. But Sebastian had to plan his entry into society as scrupulously as any society matron would her daughter?s. Bearing in mind his mission, there was no alternative. Purposefully ignoring the crumbling tenant farms along the road, he went through each step of the plan.
Sebastian had left his home and country as soon as he had completed his studies in Cambridge. The same evening, he had packed his few belongings, bid farewell to his many acquaintances and few friends, and been on a boat out of Southampton the next day. Then and now, he hadn?t looked back.
When planning to enter society for the very first time, this would pose a few problems. Although his title was well known - albeit besmirched ? Sebastian himself was nearly foreign to the ton. To succeed, he would need to call in any favors with old school friends. Anything to avoid relying on his relatives for as long as possible.
Sebastian had almost reached the carriage when the door was opened. Jo Greenblatt, his friend and confidante since one fateful night in the streets of Berlin, pulled him inside. Sebastian tapped against the front of the carriage and signaled the driver to depart.
He leaned back against the soft cushions and looked over at his friend. His first years abroad Sebastian had been lost and lonely. Their friendship had saved him, both literally and figuratively. Now Jo?s arms were crossed, dark shadows played along his face and made it unreadable.
?Found what you were looking for?? After years of traveling and living across the continent, only a hint of an accent remained in Jo?s voice.
?I?m afraid not,? Sebastian admitted. He wasn?t sure why he had insisted on visiting the place where his happy childhood had ended abruptly and prematurely. Perhaps he had hoped to recover the connection to his father.
In every memory from his childhood, Sebastian?s father, the Earl of Hartland, played the leading man. His image was at once imposing and blurred. In hindsight, he couldn?t separate man from myth. That was before he'd lost face, family, and fortune.
He sank further into the cushions. ?It doesn?t signify. We?re here for one reason only. Once it?s done, we can return home.?
?Home? Where would that be??
?Brussels, Amsterdam, Paris, wherever we decide to make our home.?
Jo?s face remained skeptical. ?If you say so. Depending on how the season goes, we may stay for longer than you expect.?
?One season. No more.?
Jo put his feet up next to Sebastian and smirked. ?Famous last words.?
Topic: First Draft: Week 1 (Read 1192 times)