The feedback I received from the CPs was incredibly helpful. It helped me see gaps and weaknesses in my story and writing. Surprisingly, I got positive feedback on aspects of my writing I consider a weakness, not a strenght. That was interesting.
Reading other writer's stories, reading them as a writer, was as helpful as the feedback I received on my own piece. It was also just really fun to thread the other amazing stories.
Cornwall, February 1885
Cornwall?s majestic cliffs were veiled in dense fog when Sebastian Ashdon, Earl of Hartland, stood on the precipice and looked straight ahead. No light, as far as the eye could see. Instead, a thick grey blanket of nothing stretched out before him. Stiff winds blew drops from the rough sea into his face. His dark woolen coat swayed with the breeze. Add in the crashing, but invisible waves crashing against the shoreline, he cut the perfect picture of a brooding Gothic hero.
Nothing could be further from the truth. Sebastian stood firm. Lost in his grim thoughts. Maybe he was closer to a gothic hero than he?d like to admit.
Legs wide, steady. Eyes ahead, certain. His father?s mantra wasn?t the only memory crashing into his mind. Childhood memories flashed before his eyes. Sun-drenched picnics in the meadows surrounding the manor, expeditions through fields and overgrown forests, and every summer until he was shipped away, swims in the cool sea.
Yet, nothing was 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 mist soaked his trousers. Seeped into his bones. Sebastian sighed. Staring off into the distance was vastly overrated. Especially, when the grey mist was too thick to see beyond his nose.
More than ten years away from England could make a man forget how the weather always interfered with a man?s best, or worst, intentions. Even when his only aim had been picturesque rumination.
What a fool he was. As a rule, Sebastian Ashdon didn?t tolerate foolishness, least of all in himself. Sebastian rolled his eyes, pushed an errant lock of black hair out of his eyes and turned around, leaving behind the sea.
As he strode along muddy fields, his fields, towards the waiting carriage, he forced himself to ignore the signs of decay around him. As soon as Sebastian had been back on English soil, he had set out for his estate in Cornwall. The thriving lands of his youth were gone. In Sebastian?s absence, his guardian who had believed him lost, had shirked his responsibilities. To the earldom and to his nephew. The latter was more easily forgiven than the former.
The same evening he finished his studies in Cambridge, Sebastian had packed his few belongings, bid farewell to his many acquaintances and few friends. He had been on a boat out of Southampton the next day. Until now, he had never looked back.
Now, it was time to prepare his coming out. There would be no pastel-colored attire, nor a presentation at court, he hoped. But Sebastian had to plan his entry into society as scrupulously as any society matron would her daughter?s. Bearing in mind his mission to avenge his father, there was no alternative. Failure was not an option.
Entering society for the first time would pose a few problems. Although his title was well known - if besmirched - Sebastian was nearly foreign to the ton. Polite society hadn?t heard from the new Earl of Hartland in over a decade, his past as shadowed to them as his future was to him. To succeed, he would need to call in favors with anyone who had been part of his father?s set before he disappeared. Anything to avoid relying on his relatives.
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. The first years abroad Sebastian had been lost and lonely. Their friendship had saved him, both literally and figuratively. Jo?s arms were crossed, dark shadows played along his face, making 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 said. He wasn?t sure why he had insisted on visiting the place where his childhood had ended abruptly and prematurely. Perhaps he had hoped to recover a connection. A sense of belonging. To this place, this country, but most of all to his father.
In every memory from his childhood, Sebastian?s father, the Earl of Hartland, played the leading man. His image equally imposing and foggy. In hindsight, he couldn?t separate man from myth. That was before his father had lost face, family, and fortune.
He sank further into the cushions. ?It doesn?t signify. We?re here for one reason only. Once our mission is achieved, we can return home.?
?Home? Where would that be??
?Brussels, Amsterdam, Paris, wherever we decide to make our home.?
Jo raised one eyebrow. ?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??
?No, just confident.?
?We both know where that confidence has led us in the past.?
It was Sebastian?s turn to raise his eyebrows ? both. To his great dismay, he?d never acquired the skill of raising just one. ?And we both know, you enjoyed every minute of it.?
Jo leaned forward and took Sebastian?s hands into his. ?As did you. Except for our failed heist in Budapest perhaps, which I count among my favorite memories.?
Gratitude and affection warmed Sebastian chest and spread until it tightened his throat. In response, he lifted the left corner of his mouth and sent Jo a half-smile.
There was no one he would rather have by is side over the next few months. Together, they would claim Sebastian?s title and inheritance, establish him in society, and restore his estates ? all while discovering who had blackmailed his father. Child?s play.
Most importantly, no one could find out about Sebastian?s role in his father?s sudden and permanent exile from England. He would make sure of that - I loved reading what others did with the prompt.
Topic: Rough Seas_CP edits (Read 498 times)