He returned five minutes later and then they were on Route 73 heading back to Pennsylvania. “Why were you drinking that beer? You were adamant that you don’t drink. What changed your mind?”
“I wasn’t comfortable in there. I wanted to see if it would calm me down. I only took a few sips.”
“A few sips aren’t going to loosen you up, Tess. A few bottles maybe, but not a few sips.”
“Just shut up, okay,” she muttered in a weary tone.
“Are you feeling better?”
“No.”
“Well, then just lay back in the seat. Close your eyes and I’ll get you home as soon as possible.” Sebastian concentrated on his speed gauge to avoid being pulled over for drinking and driving. He didn’t know what the penalties were in America, but he knew he had no family ties to get him out of trouble. He grabbed a few Tic Tacs from the center console of the car and popped them in his mouth. They drove home in silence, with only a brief stop at a convenience store for a cup a coffee. Mrs. Hamilton had been nothing but warm and welcoming to Sebastian, and he desperately needed to keep it that way.
Sebastian jumped out of the car when they pulled up in front of Tess’ house. He opened the door and reached in for her hand. He helped Tess to the front door. The porch light was on. Kate was sitting on the sofa watching TV. “What are you kids doing home so early?”
“Tess wasn’t feeling well. The club was overcrowded and hot. I thought it would be best to just bring her home,” Sebastian explained.
“Thank you for seeing her home safely, Sebastian.” She stood up and unexpectedly hugged him.
“You’re welcome, Mrs. Hamilton.” He was slightly taken aback by this show of affection from an adult, let alone the parent of a girl he fancied.
“I’ll see you on Monday, Tess,” he said softly to her.
“Okay,” was all she could say before making her way up the staircase to the solace of her bedroom.
He bade farewell to Tess’ mother, got in his car, and slowly drove home, all the while trying to suss out what the hell had just taken place. He must have hit a nerve with Tess by showing attention to Courtney. Why else would she start drinking? Was she angry? Nervous? Or maybe the heat and the crowd had simply overwhelmed her and she needed to get out of there. He didn’t really buy into her explanation. She was so naïve. Sebastian surmised that Tess had never experienced anything like this before: the drinking, the drugs, the hookups. He was also convinced that she was starting to have feelings for him, but was ill-equipped to deal with them. Whatever it was, he would leave her alone this weekend. Hopefully, next week she would feel like talking about it. He made a mental note to send her a bouquet of flowers the following day—nothing elaborate, just a simple gesture to send his good wishes and hope she was feeling better. In his experience, flowers always got him back into a girl’s good graces. On second thought, maybe he should just leave her be. She’d only get angry and misconstrue his friendly gesture as romantic.
Henry was sitting at the kitchen table reading the paper, startling Sebastian as he entered the house through the back door. “Waiting up for me?”
“Yes.”
“Because you assumed I was on a bender?”
“You were in New Jersey, where it’s perfectly legal for you to drink. I just wanted to make sure you got home okay,” Henry explained.
Anger welled up inside Sebastian, but he could sense Henry’s sincerity. It was odd encountering an adult who would stay awake to be sure of his safety. “I’m sober. Thank you for your concern,” he calmly announced.
“You are home early. I expected to be sitting here till at least one o’clock.”
Removing his coat, Sebastian threw it on the back of the kitchen chair and joined Henry at the table. “Tess wasn’t feeling well. I took her home early. There wasn’t any point in going back to the bar.”
Henry’s lips curled in a mischievous grin “You like this girl.”
With a sigh, Sebastian placed his head in the palm of his hand. “Yes, God help me, for some reason I can’t fathom, I like this girl.”
“Opposites attract.”
“Tess Hamilton is the polar opposite of me. I don’t want to get involved with her. She certainly does not want to get involved with me.” Sebastian said, but couldn’t even convince himself.
Henry stood from the chair and patted Sebastian on the back. “You keep telling yourself that. I’m turning in. Goodnight.”
Chapter 9 - If Paradise Is Half As Nice
Sebastian stood next to Tess, flipping through the card catalog in search of books they could use for their English term paper. They had to analyze and compare selected poets from the Romantic and Realist periods. “Finally, a subject I enjoy. This project will be a breeze to complete,” Sebastian said, excited about the project.
“You seem pretty confident about this topic.”
“Well, I am English.”
“So that makes you predisposed to be an expert on the subject?”
“Something like that.”
Tess shook her head and continued thumbing through the cards.
After twenty minutes of searching, Sebastian closed the file with a heavy sigh. “This is no use. I have better poetry books at home. We can go there now. What do you say?”
“You want to show me your house?”
“No, I want to show you my books.” He hesitated for a moment. “God, I never thought that sentence would come out of my mouth.”
Tess looked at her watch. “Okay, I guess I could do that. I just have to call my mom and let her know.”
He patiently waited while she used the pay phone in the gym; then he escorted her to the hunter green Jaguar. He opened the passenger door and Tess got inside. She sank into the tan leather interior as she buckled her seatbelt.
Sebastian got in the driver’s side, started the engine, and drove off.
“You didn’t have to drive me. I could have followed in my car,” Tess said as they drove along and entered the main street.
“I know, but Edgewood is secluded and I wanted to drive so we could talk.”
“Because I engage you with my sparkling conversation?”
“Absolutely,” he grinned.
“Will I get to meet any of your family?”
“I don’t live with my family.”
“So you live alone?”
“No, I live with the servants and my guardian.”
If Tess was going to take her questions down this path, maybe it wasn’t a good idea for him to bring her to the house. He’d only known her for a week when Tess had invited him into her home, so four weeks later Sebastian wanted to show her his world. He didn’t understand why he felt so compelled to do this—let her into his inner sanctum. He just had a gut feeling the time was right.
“Do you have any brothers or sisters?”
“I have two older sisters and a brother.”
“Ah, that explains a lot.”
“What do you mean?”
“You’re the baby of the family. It explains why you act so …”
“Yes?”
“Pampered and petulant.”
Sebastian laughed. “You’re not the first person to accuse me of that.”
“You have a sense of humor after all.”
“If you were trying to insult me, I’ve been called far worse. I know deep down you think I’m fascinating. I wager you’ve never met anyone like me before,” he challenged.
“You got me there.”
They pulled into a private drive and Sebastian parked the car in the garage. Walking toward the house, through the rose garden, Tess said, “It’s so beautiful.”
“It’s all right, I suppose.”
“Why would you take living here for granted? Does the money make you that jaded?”
Sebastian felt like saying, This is nothing compared to the castle back in England, but then he would come off as an arrogant arse. He was trying to impress Tess, not alienate her.
Tess whispered, “
This seems like utopia.”
“In my experience, utopia doesn’t exist.” He opened the front door and ushered her into the mansion. “The library is just down the hall.”
“Why didn’t you just tell me you lived in a mansion?”
“I thought you would have sussed that out on your own. I was also hoping to avoid the look of sheer awe you have on your face right now. I’m not here to flaunt my privilege. I just want to write a bloody term paper.”
“I’m fine. See?” Tess was standing perfectly still, but the sparkle of excitement in her eyes gave her away.
“No, you’re not,” he sighed. “You’re dying to freak out. Go ahead.”
She twirled around, taking in everything. “This is amazing! It’s like living in a museum.”
All he could do was laugh. “You want to see the rest of the house?”
“Yes!”
“Follow me. There’s someone I want you to meet first.” He put his hand on the small of her back and escorted her up the grand staircase to Nanny’s room. He quietly knocked, then entered.
“Sebastian, come in. Who is your friend?” Nanny asked.
“Nanny Jones, this is Tess Hamilton,” he beamed.
“Tess, Sebastian has told me so much about you. Sit down.” She patted the seat next to her.
“What did he say?”
“Only good things, dear. How is the tutoring coming along?”
“He’s a good student.”
“I always knew he was intelligent. He just needed to apply himself.”
Sebastian sat back and watched Nanny and Tess talk, getting to know each other. The conversation was easy and comfortable. When they finished their visit, Sebastian gave Nanny a hug and whispered in her ear. Nanny smiled back at him. Sebastian walked across the room, opened the door, and motioned for Tess to join him in the hall.
“She is the one who raised you,” Tess realized aloud as they walked down the hall.
“Yes, to me, she is my mother.”
“I like her. What did you whisper to her?”
He gave her a sly smile. “A gentleman doesn’t give away his secrets. I thought you wanted to see the rest of the house.”
“Fine, but I still don’t understand why you can’t tell me. Whatever it was, you made her smile.”
“What would you like to see next?”
“Show me your bedroom.”
Sebastian arched his brow. “My bedroom? I don’t think you should go in there without a chaperone.”
Tess nudged him in the side with her elbow. “Oh please, It’s 1985, not 1885. I’m sure I’ll be perfectly safe. You did just say you were a gentleman, after all.”
“But what if I lose all senses and try to ravish you?” he asked in low, sensual voice. The thought certainly was appealing.
“Than I’ll just have to knee you in the balls,” she replied with a demure smile.
He swallowed hard, opened the bedroom door, and allowed her to enter first. Sebastian noticed her mouth drop open ever so slightly to form a little O shape. Her silence is a welcome change of pace, Sebastian thought to himself, but he knew better than to voice it. He could tell it was all too much for her to absorb. Tess made her way over to his record collection and casually flipped through the albums. Then she turned and eyed a delightful old teddy bear sitting amidst the mound of pillows on his bed. She walked to the bed and picked it up.
“I didn’t peg you as the stuffed animal type.”
“This is Charles. Nanny gave him to me on my first birthday. I like him very much. He never talks back—unlike some people I know.”
Tess ignored him and examined the bear. Charles was worn and obviously well loved. His head was slightly crooked and she felt a chamois patch on his foot. “What happened here?”
“Ah, that was his riding incident.”
“What?”
“We were out riding Dr. Manson…”
“Dr. Manson?” she questioned.
“My horse’s name was Dr. Manson.”
“That’s a peculiar name for a horse.”
“Do you want to hear the story or do you plan to keep interrupting?”
“Go on,” she said sitting on the edge of the bed.
“Well, anyway, we were riding along, enjoying the sun and the warm weather—Charles has always loved the springtime, you know—and he lost his grip and fell off the horse. Dr. Manson stepped right on top of him, the poor thing. Charles was hurt, of course, and Dr. Manson was very distraught. So we quickly got him into surgery and Nanny mended his foot quite nicely. Don’t you agree?”
“How old were you when this happened?”
“Seven.”
Tess shook her head with a chuckle. “You are not only aloof, you’re eccentric.”
“Thank you,” he replied, happy with the compliment.
She placed the bear back on the bed, and then headed for the French doors. “What’s out here?”
Sebastian turned the brass handles and flung them open with a swooshing gesture. Tess stepped out onto the balcony and looked out over the grounds. The trees on the property were just beginning to turn with the autumn weather; the leaves were glorious shades of red and gold.
She seemed lost in thought when Sebastian quietly stepped up behind her and whispered in her ear. “I told her I loved her more than anyone in the world.”
Tess slowly turned to face him. They were standing quite close to one another. Her hair smelled like honeysuckle, and he could feel her gentle breath on his neck. He had caught her off guard.
“What?”
“You asked me what I whispered to Nanny.”
“Oh,” she replied softly, her breath shallow.
“I think we need to get started on that term paper.” Sebastian slowly stepped away, reminding her of the reason they were there. If he didn’t step away now, he might act on his urge to lean down and kiss her, and he didn’t think she was ready for that.
Tess finally shook herself out of her daze. “Yes, we should get started,” she said, pushing past him and back into the room.
He closed the doors behind them and followed her into the hall.
Alice greeted them as they reached the landing of the foyer. “Sebastian, will you be staying for dinner tonight?”
He looked over at Tess. “Is it all right if we eat in?”
“Sure, if it’s not any trouble. My mom’s working tonight, so I didn’t have any plans.”
“Thank you, Alice. We’ll eat dinner in the dining room tonight. Can you bring some tea and a Diet Coke to the library? We’ll be working in there until dinnertime.”
“Of course.” She turned and headed for the kitchen.
“She seems nice,” Tess commented.
“Alice is an amazing cook. You’re in for a treat tonight.” He walked ahead at a quick pace, while Tess fell in line behind him. “Here we are,” he announced suddenly, as they reached the closed library door. He opened the door for Tess and they entered the room together.
The library was lined with floor-to-ceiling cherry wood bookcases brimming with books. There was a wheeled brass ladder on a rail, which rolled around the room for anyone who needed to retrieve books on the top shelves. A round table sat in the center of the room. Sebastian walked to one of the cases near the door and randomly pulled poetry books off the shelves. Soon a pile had collected in the center of a book trolley: Shelley, Byron, and Shakespeare.
Tess wandered over to a photo in a sterling silver Asprey frame, which sat on the sideboard table. She picked it up and examined it. No one was smiling in the formal photo of the elegant group dressed in black tuxedos and sophisticated evening gowns. The oldest woman had her hair pulled back in an updo and was seated on a sofa with two younger women. There were two men with stiff posture standing behind the sofa. One of them was Sebastian. “Is this your family?”
Sebastian looked up from his growing pile of books. He walked over and took the photo from her hand, holding it as if it burned his fingers. “Yes,” he said fl
atly. He pointed to the people. “Mother, Sigourney, Victoria, and Max.” He placed the photograph back on the sideboard, glad to be rid of it. “I think we have all the books we need,” he said, trying to turn Tess’ attention back to the task at hand.
“So who is your favorite poet?” she asked, taking a seat at the table.
“Keats. And yours?”
“I don’t like poetry,” she admitted. “I don’t understand it.”
“Well, maybe it’s time I tutor you for a change.” He cleared his throat and launched into an off-the-cuff explanation. “You’re most likely struggling with the use of Old English and symbolism. Think in modern terms. Think about music: Morrissey, Bono, Dylan. They’re all modern poets. They tell a story. Sometimes the story is straightforward—there is a beginning, middle and end. Sometimes it’s just about the idea or emotion the writer is trying to convey, and he does it through a series of random thoughts. Are you following me?”
She nodded her head. “Go on, Professor Irons.”
Flipping through one of the books, he found the poem he wanted. “This one is Keats.”
Give me women, wine, and snuff
Until I cry out "hold, enough!"
You may do so sans objection
Till the day of resurrection:
For, bless my beard, they aye shall be
My beloved Trinity.
“Pretty straightforward—the three loves of this man’s life are women, wine, and tobacco. He holds these things in such high regard that they become a religious-like experience to him.”
“He sounds an awful lot like you,” Tess chimed in.
“I certainly share Keats’ enthusiasm for those things,” he agreed. Sebastian flipped through a few pages. “Now let’s try something that’s a little more difficult: Keats’ Bright Star. Sebastian went on to read the poem aloud. When he finished, he leaned back on his heels, deep in thought.
“Now this is a little more esoteric. Because of its position as the last word in the poem, death carries a great deal of weight. Keats accepts the possibility of dying from pleasure. The French often compare dying to an orgasm.” Sebastian stopped for effect to let what he was saying sink in for her. Then, with a coy smile, he continued: “There’s also been debate that the word death was meant quite literally as Keats was dying of tuberculosis when he wrote the poem for his fiancée.”
Life's What You Make It: Love's Great Adventure Book 1 Page 10