Show Me The Ropes {cashton}

II

Calum beamed as he folded the letter with care and slid the paper into the pocket of his forest green waistcoat. The kind words of his friend definitely boosted his energy after so much travelling.

There was a faded familiarity with the surroundings now as he watched through the window. Memories from his childhood, he knew this place, and that reassured him that the wait was almost over.

He kept all of the letters, they almost seemed like art; Ashton had the most elegant handwriting he had ever seen, and his way with words brought great merriment to him. That, or the promise of expensive liquor that he couldn't get in America was exciting him, but whichever was true he was delighted nonetheless.

He had gathered his best clothing for his stay in England, adamant on having a good first impression, or rather second impression, but it had been so long, so much had changed in the last ten years. They were no longer children and Calum felt more pressure to be well dressed and well mannered, a fine young gentleman. 

If there were any faults in the way he presented himself, he feared rejection from his family. He wasn't just a child anymore, so tensions about race could cause issues. From what he had heard, it wasn't so bad in England compared to America, but his accustomed nature to being verbally abused outside of the comfort of his home, had left him traumatised.

They were so much older now, it had been years; what if after such a long time not seeing each other face to face they turned out to not be as fond of each other as they once were? Life was no longer play-fights in mud, or chasing each other in parks. It was taking on family business and duties and seeking marriage while still young adults, early twenties. It was pressure to succeed and keep the family name respectable.

It had felt as though they knew one another better than even their own families knew them, they had poured out the contents of their hearts onto paper, spilled many of their dark and dangerous secrets in the form of jet black ink. The pair trusted one another with anything, even with their lives. The bond they had was unique, unlike any brotherly bond by blood.

The carriage came to an abrupt halt, hurling Calum forward a little. 

With a slender, graceful hand he drew back the velvet curtain, looking out to see a splendour of washed out colour in the neatly kept garden, winding cobbled pavement between the patches of flowerbeds that in the summer must have been thriving in all their beauty, but were now withering, and white benches were dotted around on the areas of grass.

Everything was covered by a thin dusting of frost, the bright colours of the flowers dulled down to a pastel hue, still visible only they looked as if they were encrusted with diamonds, and it was truly as beautiful as he had remembered. If that wasn't a marvellous enough sight, the country house itself sure was. Before him was a grand building made of elegantly ageing limestone, that must have consisted of at least 30 rooms, complete with vast columns before the entryway. 

Since he had last seen it an impressive amount of work had been done on the manor, but the Irwin family were known to be quite extravagant, so that was unsurprising.

The carriage door was opened for him, and Calum lifted his hat to give the coachman a polite nod, and the horse a grateful pat on it's back, despite being thrown around in there an overly generous amount. 

All of this was just too exciting to have any complaints, he had a bounce in his step, a grin on his face, he uncontrollably radiated happiness. 

Though his experience of England had so far merely been out of a train window, and looking past the curtains of the black carriage to see mostly just fields of crops and livestock, he was already infatuated with it all over again; the pleasing aesthetic, the accents, culture, to him it was so different from what he had gotten used to in America, but so refreshing.

Calum took a slow walk along the cobbled pavement toward the entryway of the house, basking in the distantly familiar crunch of snow beneath his feet, his hat remaining between his fingers so that he could feel the snowflakes land in his fluffy mess of dark hair.

The last time he had seen snow was when he waseight and stood in this garden, but he hadn't seen any since moving. It wasn'timpossible for it to snow there, it was just much less likely than it was inYorkshire, obviously. He fiddled with his black bow-tie to occupy his oppositehand, anything to ease his nervousness.

He raised his hand, but before he could even knock, the door had been swung open. A maid, much smaller in height than he was, craned her neck to look up at him. He smiled politely, but she seemed to have gone shy, only giving a little smile and forgetting to even let him in, which he thought was quite cute.

Of course, there was evident shock in her face in response to seeing him, in her entire life it was unlikely that she had ever seen a person of colour, let alone had to answer the door to one. 

"That will be all, Meredith," a voice said, English accent strong unlike his which had seemed to fade, and blur into an American one. In other words, his own accent was a confused mess, and so to hear such drastically different accents to what he grew used to was so lovely. 

Their footsteps approached, and the anticipation made Calum's hands shake. That, or he was just freezing. His brain was overflowing, he really couldn't make that distinction anyway.

"I said, that will be all Meredith, thankyou," he was more stern now, an underlying frustration in his tone but even then he couldn't help but chuckle at the maid's sudden shyness. She scampered away, it was understandable for him to be frustrated, the last thing Ashton wanted was racial division in the household, he wanted Calum to be treated the exact same way any white guest would. 

The voice revealed himself in the doorway. 

His expression softened, as did his voice, frustrated melted away instantly.

"What a pleasure to meet once again, Calum Hood," Ashton spoke, his warm hazel eyes sparkling and before either of them could process what was finally happening their arms were clumsily around each other in utmost joy. 

"You look utterly frozen. Carriages in the winter time truly are awful I will admit," Ashton chuckled softly and he pulled away at arms length, hands on Calum's shoulders just to look at him for a moment, displaying his charming dimples. 

He did need to take that moment, just familiarise himself with the man before him, that the little boy he once knew and loved so dearly had grown into.

He politely took Calum's damp grey coat and matching hat, the snowflakes now melted leaving his outer garments just unpleasantly soggy and cold, hanging the items up to dry before he closed the door behind him. They both sighed happily, almost simultaneously, as the cold air from outside was banished and the heat from within the home slowly warmed them up.

Meredith came scurrying back into the entrance hall, balancing a tray of scones topped with cream and the last of the seasonal berries, teacups and a steaming teapot as Ashton had requested of her prior to Calum's arrival.

"Thank you Meredith, please convey my thanks to the others," Ashton said politely, taking the tray from her dainty hands and with a nod she left, scampering a way like a timid little mouse. 

Everything Ashton did, he performed with such grace, it was difficult not to be mesmerised by him, envious of him even, anyone would agree.

"Well. I believe we have some catching up to do?" Ashton said, brow raised and a charming grin on his face, "tea by the fire should warm you up, get you settled in while the maids take care of your baggage. I think after over ten years, there is definitely so much to talk about."