Here it is! My first chapter from our own Prince Ashton's point of view! I'm actually really pleased with it! I thought it might be harder to tap into Ashton's feelings and emotions, but once I started writing, well he just sort of appeared and did the speaking for me. It also helped that I watched the movie again… for the millionth time. lol. Thank you all for sticking with me through this rather sporadically spread out story. I really love writing this story and love getting your feedback. Hopefully I'll see (or write) you all soon! God bless!


Chapter Six

Home for the Holidays?

ASHTON HUNTINGTON

Ashton Huntington walked briskly through the crowded streets of Geneva; the chill of the winter air woke him up as made his way toward the Travers Government and Law Building. Not even the holidays seemed to slow down the amount of work Ashton had on his plate. He was thankful for the cool air giving him fresh perspective for the morning. The majority of his thoughts were plagued with anxiety of his impending trip home to Castlebury Hall later today. It had been almost a year since Ashton had last been home. He and his father, Edward, the Duke of Castlebury, had not separated on the best of terms. Ashton had made a few calls home to check in on his father, but their conversations continued to be short, terse, and unbelievably awkward.

Christmas would be a strange time this year. It felt like only yesterday when he and his father were delivered the news that his elder brother Charles and Charles' American wife had perished in an ice skating accident the day after Christmas. Ashton remembered very little of what actually happened when they got the news, but he remembered the emotions very clearly. The pain, the loss, the anger at his father for keeping Charles away from them… but most of all he remembered his envy… yes, he was ashamed to admit his envy of his older brother even in death. It was not his brother he was envious of exactly; instead, it was envy for how hard his father had taken his eldest son's death. In the years since their father had cut Charles off for marrying a title-less American, Ashton had watched his father mourn the loss of his son as though he did not have another. Ashton felt himself pushed into the shadows of his father's notice when his brother had been cut off. Now, when Charles was actually gone forever, the slump his father had sunk deeply into… well, it had been practically unbearable for everyone. Ashton watched his father shut him out even more, leaving Ashton to grieve the loss of his brother alone.

The Duke had forbidden anyone from attending Charles and his wife's funeral in America. No one had spoken of Charles since… or the two children he and his wife had left behind somewhere in New York. Instead, with no official closure for anyone, Charles remained in every silent pause, his memory absently hung over the house, though he was never directly mentioned. Castlebury Hall had changed, even though Charles had moved out a long time ago. It was an empty lonely place, inhabited by a bitter, old Duke. Now, almost a year later Ashton would be returning home to spend Christmas with a father he did not really know anymore. His frustration and anxiety pressed at him further with every step he took.

As Ashton continued walking his mobile phone rang. He pulled it out of his pocket and saw the caller ID read his longtime girlfriend, Arabella was calling. Ashton paused a moment before ignoring the call. At the moment, he had no desire to listen to Arabella complain about some lady's dress, hat, or comment that offended her at some social function yesterday. He knew it was rude and uncharacteristic of him, but he quickly put his phone back in his pocket. As he did so he saw his business associate, Bradley Griffin walk out of the coffee shop in front of him.

"Bradley!" He called out. Bradley turned holding a cup of coffee steaming deliciously from his gloved hands. Bradley pushed his winter hat further down on his head while Ashton pulled his scarf tighter around his neck against the wind that blew up through the street.

"Ashton, hello!" Bradley stopped, waiting for him to catch up, his Italian accent lilted through the snowy air. "Ready to head home to Castlebury, are you? Surely it must be a bit warmer there!" Bradley laughed shaking Ashton's hand as the two continued to walk toward the courthouse.

"Hardly," Ashton replied smiling, "besides if my father is anything to go by, it will not be the weather that will be freezing me out," he laughed despite his seriousness.

"I am sorry. I hope this Christmas will surprise you. You know they say time heals all wounds." Bradley said slowly sipping his coffee as the two men pushed through the crowds.

"They do say, but only if you let it. Truth is my father has refused to be healed by anything for a very, very long time," Ashton sighed. It was true, even before Charles's death, his father's retreat from life had really begun with the death of his wife, Ashton's mother, when he was only seventeen. From that point on his father had begun to become a different man, a stranger really. "But, we can always hope," he added smiling.

"If nothing else, you will get to see your girl, will you not?" Bradley spoke trying to cheer him up.

Ashton sighed again, currently another frustrating area of his life. "I will, though I can't say that thought of that even sets me at ease."

"Well, Ashton, I've always told you I think the 'Lady' Arabella is a bit of a snob, but you never listen." Bradley joked emphasizing Arabella's title in a similar way she herself had when meeting Bradley.

"I know, I know." Ashton muttered. "It's just my relationship with Arabella has always been about the only thing my father has approved of in my life. The Bellmonts are a good family… and it's not that I no longer care for Arabella, I do, or I used to… but, it is different now…what I mean is, I—"

Bradley interrupted his mumbling and clapped him on the back, "It sounds to me like you have some things to figure out when you get home, my friend." Ashton laughed and nodded in consent. If he went home…he most certainly did.

When the two men arrived at the courthouse Ashton went to great efforts to immerse himself in his work. He was reading through his next court proposition when his secretary stuck her head in the door bringing him out of his intense study of his argument.

"Mr. Huntington, Lady Arabella is on line 3 for you." His secretary smirked at his shocked expression. Her bright smile shone against her dark skin and hair. "I told her you must have left your mobile at home," the young secretary grinned.

Ashton laughed, "Thank you, Miss Coulby." Apparently Arabella was going to be quite insistent on speaking to him today. He took a breath and picked up the phone, "Arabella, I am sorry for not answering your calls."

"Yes well, I thought I should call your office to make sure we were able to speak," the smooth, chastising voice of his girlfriend came over the phone. "Darling, I want to know when you are arriving home."

Ashton ran his fingers through his copper blonde hair. "Arabella, I do not know. To be honest, I have been doing some thinking and I am not sure if I am even going to be able to make it this year…"

"What!? Darling, you CANNOT be serious," her voiced whined through the receiver. Ashton closed his eyes, leaning over his desk.

"I have a lot on my plate right now. My team is just preparing a new proposition to the courts and I am not sure if I even want to go home this Christmas. With Charles gone—"

"Ashton, you are being absolutely ridiculous," she interrupted vehemently; "We have plans with my parents and what about the hunt you scheduled? You said you would host it. It is a Christmas tradition. If you pull out now, well, imagine what it will do to my reputation!"

"Arabella, Christmas is different this year, it—" Ashton continued in a softer voice. He just needed some time to breathe, to think, and he was pretty sure he was not going to get it at home.

"Ashton, I will not listen to this," Arabella argued angrily. "You are being utterly selfish. Nothing is different, you are coming home, we are having the hunt and perhaps we can even convince your father to throw the Christmas Eve Ball this year."

"Arabella, you know my father has not thrown a ball in years." Ashton reasoned.

"Well, he certainly will not if you do not come home! Ashton, please! You cannot do this to me," he could hear the tremble in her voice. He had not meant to upset her. Ashton simply was not sure if he could face returning home, if Castlebury Hall could even be called home anymore. That was a question he felt sure he was not ready to decide upon…

"Arabella, I will think about it. Right now I have work to do, I will call and let you know."

"You can let me know when you are on your way," she retorted angrily before hanging up on him. Ashton stared at the phone for a moment before replacing it on his desk. He covered his face with his hands. He tried to remember how Christmas used to be for him. When he and Charles were young and their mother was still around, Christmas was the most exciting time of the year. His mother had insisted on a Christmas tree in every room, she led the family and staff in the singing of carols, snowball fights, and so much more. Charles had pestered the cooks to the point that there was always the smell of Christmas cookies baking; his father had the servants decorate every inch of the castle. Ashton had been in charge of the Christmas hunt for all the young people. Finally, on Christmas Eve the family would host their Christmas Eve Ball. Royals from all around had come to dance and dine at the Huntington Christmas ball. Now, all of that was gone. Ashton felt a familiar aching in his chest. He felt himself sinking into despair, when his mobile phone rang again. Thinking it was Arabella he quickly pulled it out of his jacket pocket and answered.

"Hello?" He said warily, awaiting more harsh and angry words from his girlfriend. Instead he heard a manly, familiar, and welcoming voice.

"Good afternoon, sire!" The voice was crackling, fading in and out, as though calling from a great distance.

"Paisley?" Ashton questioned sitting up straighter, he could only think of one reason his father's butler would be calling him. "What's wrong? Is it father?"

"No, no sire! Not at all! As far as I know, your father is quite well. I believe he is still getting over a bit of a cold, but on the contrary he should be fine." Paisley replied, the reception on his end becoming less clear by the moment.

"As far as you know, should be?" Ashton frowned, "Paisley, where are you?"

"About to leave America sir," came the butler's static-filled reply.

"America!?" Ashton's eyes widened in surprise, "what on earth are you doing there?"

"Well, sir, you are not going to believe this, but your father has invited Master Charles' children to come to Castlebury Hall for Christmas."

Had Ashton been standing, he probably would have fallen over; however, since he was sitting he jumped up immediately in shock.

"He did what!?" Ashton cried out louder than he intended. He saw his co-workers look up in surprise as they heard him through the glass of his office.

"Indeed sir! He's invited Master Milo and Miss Maddie to come to Castlebury. I am on my way home now bringing the children and Miss Jules Daly."

"Jules Daly." Ashton repeated.

"Yes sire, the children's aunt. Miss Joanna's sister." Ashton nodded. In his memory he recalled an image of a pale, skinny girl with long brown hair wearing mismatched clothes. Jules Daly, the children's aunt. Jules was barely a child herself if he remembered correctly… and now the children's legal guardian.

"Right, I recall that now. So, you are bringing them home? When will you be arriving?" Ashton asked, his mind whirling. What could have possibly possessed his father, after all these years, to invite Charles' children to meet him?

"A little after noon tomorrow, I believe."

"Very good. Thank you for letting me know, Paisley." Ashton replied.

"Of course, sir. Will we be expecting you to arrive tomorrow as well?" Paisley asked and Ashton paused. He listened to the sound of the static for a moment, questioning. Should I go home? He had not been sure before, but now, with the thought of his father inviting Charles' children… and the thought of this mysterious American Jules Daly, Castlebury did not seem as threatening, dull, or lonely as it had before. Perhaps this Christmas being different did not have to be a bad thing.

"Absolutely, Paisley. I should be arriving sometime shortly after you do." Ashton heard the determined resolve in his voice. Surprisingly he felt a glimmer of excitement bubble within his chest.

"Splendid, sire. We look forward to having you home." Paisley responded heartily. Ashton smiled; the butler had always been a welcoming soul throughout Ashton's childhood.

"Thank you, Paisley. I will see you tomorrow. Goodbye."

Paisley murmured a broken farewell through the poor phone signal and Ashton hung up. He immediately began to gather his things together from his office. His secretary was at the door again, looking concerned and slightly confused at the sight of Ashton packing his things.

"Everything alright, Mr. Huntington?" She asked tentatively.

"Yes, Miss Coulby, but if you do not mind I am going to begin my trip home to Castlebury a little bit early. We have plenty of time to work on the presentation in the New Year when I get back. Also, please be sure, Bradley calls the Morgan Adoption Agency before he leaves today." He informed her as he shoved a few more papers in his briefcase. Grabbing his coat and scarf he began to dress.

"Yes, sir." She replied confused, "Can I do anything else for you?"

"If you wouldn't mind calling me a cab, that would be lovely." Ashton looked up at the young woman appreciatively.

"Absolutely," she smiled, "I hope you have a very Happy Christmas, Mr. Huntington."

Ashton smiled, "Thank you," he replied. And for the first time, Ashton felt he just might.