Carnations in the Alley | manxman | (Historical Romance)

VIII - Runaway Dove

Before the alley...

Standing before a golden-framed mirror, Kent toyed with his stray wisps of hair. He liked his appearance today, but he couldn't get the slight redness in his cheeks to go away. He blamed it on what bashfulness was steadily rising in him with each hour.

He was attending a party hosted here in his home to celebrate his father's return from abroad. The man had been gone for an entire year and four months, and while he'd already returned in the early hours of the morning, many friends and family in the Winterbourne area were anticipating laying eyes on the man.

Kent, on the other hand, was anxious to lay eyes on another. His name was Whitley Rockwell, and he was the son of another man who'd returned with Kent's father. They'd spoken over a number of months, and while they'd never explored anything outside of their intimate and private conversations, something in Kent was telling him something special was bound to show itself between them tonight.

Feeling all the fluttering in his stomach, Kent breathed and adjusted his clothing before finally leaving his bedroom. The sound of the guests who'd already arrived carried through the halls, and as Kent descended the stairwell to the grand entry, he met a pair of brilliant blue eyes looking his way.

So towering and fit, proper, and sharp in his handsomeness, Whitley Rockwell stood behind his parents. As such an inspiringly appealing young man, his crisp attire suited him well, and the curls of his light-brown hair were slicked out of his face. Before him were parents, but also Kent's own father Charles Everleigh.

Almost nervous to approach, especially since they would be in the company of both their father's, Kent thought it best to stray, but halted at the last stair when he heard: "Son, come say hello to the Rockwell's."

As told, Kent neared his father's side, Lord Charles Everleigh, and jolted when he received a rather hard pat on the back. His father was still a bit of a burly man at the age of fifty-three, ex-military. Having served his entire enrollment spanning ten whole years, he'd walked away with signs of war able to hide under his tailored suits, but everyone could see the blind white of his once brown right eye. Up close, Charles Everleigh appeared not to be a man anyone would want to tussle with.

The breath was almost stolen from Kent's lungs as he recovered from the enthusiastic strike, and his cheeks flushed even more when Whitley chuckled.

"My youngest son is familiar to you, yes?" Lord Everleigh said to Whitley and his parents. "I missed his entire final year of university, but words of his accomplishments are impressive. After following in my path for the next number of years, you wish to take on the role of a professor, isn't that right, son?"

"Yes, Father," Kent nodded. As the youngest son of four boys, there wasn't a push for him to prove himself and take on what duties his father looked to pass down to his older brothers. While attending university, Kent had gained an appreciation for numbers, so when the time came to place himself somewhere he wished to make a career of, his eyes were set on The University of Winterbourne.

After spending some time greeting other guests, mingling, and staying close to his siblings and parents, Kent at last found an opportunity to slip away. It was after a toast to his father's return and good health, an announcement or two of future endeavors, but before the dance and mingling could pick up, Kent ducked into the halls.

All the while, he was followed by an additional shadow, and he couldn't help the laughter that broke from his lungs the moment he entered a distant guest room, and he was bombarded by a string of kisses that riddled his neck before capturing his lips.

Whitley had vanished from the eyes of his parents as well, having stolen glance after glance of Kent until they were here in this private escape.

In a rush, they descended onto the plush surface of a bed, turning together, and tasting one another in a manner that had only ever spoken in whispers against Kent's ear.