Forget Me Not (The Gents Book #1)

by Sarah M. Eden

  Cover image: Young Woman in Georgian Gown © Laurence Winram / Trevillion Images

  Cover design by Natalie Brown

  Cover design copyright © 2020 by Covenant Communications, Inc.

  Published by Covenant Communications, Inc.

  American Fork, Utah

  Copyright © 2020 by Sarah M. Eden

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any format or in any medium without the written permission of the publisher, Covenant Communications, Inc., P.O. Box 416, American Fork, UT 84003. The views expressed within this work are the sole responsibility of the author and do not necessarily reflect the position of Covenant Communications, Inc., or any other entity.

  This is a work of fiction. The characters, names, incidents, places, and dialogue are either products of the author’s imagination, and are not to be construed as real, or are used fictitiously.

  First Printing: September 2020

  ISBN 978-1-52441-337-8

  Praise for Forget Me Not

  “Julia is an admirable heroine who resists the social convention of the Georgian era, determined to have a marriage built on mutual respect, and Lucas’s sincere attempts to understand and please her will win the hearts of romance fans. Eden’s light, sweet story is sure to delight.”

  —Publishers Weekly

  “This bold beginning fuels a sweet, amusing tale in which Lucas’s six friends—the Gents—help Lucas and Julia meld hope with personal differences. Forget Me Not is an optimistic, witty romance in which wedded bliss arrives on the coattails of memorable ‘gents.’”

  —Foreword Reviews

  “What a delightful start to this new series! Eden’s witty dialogue and charming gift of storytelling shine bright in this sweet story of love and trust.”

  —Sarah Ladd, ACFW Award-winner, author The Light at Wyndcliff

  “In Forget Me Not, Sarah Eden does a masterful job of wringing emotion from the genuine challenges her characters face. Heartfelt, amusing, and, oh, so romantic, you don’t want to miss this exciting new series.”

  —Regina Jennings, National Reader’s Choice Award winner, author The Majors Daughter

  “The Gents have already stolen my heart! In this first book of Eden’s new series, readers will laugh and root for this unique cohort of men and the women in their lives. Block your schedule—this series will keep you reading ‘just one more chapter.’”

  —Rachel Fordham, author A Life Once Dreamed

  “Forget Me Not is everything I’ve come to eagerly anticipate from Sarah M. Eden! Lucas and Julia’s story kicks off a new series sure to delight fans of Eden’s Jonquil series (and if you haven’t read that series yet, what are you waiting for?!) as well as win her brand-new readers. I adored every page of this story.”

  —Melissa Tagg, Carol Award–winning author of the Walker Family series and

  Now and Then and Always

  “I’m certain that Sarah’s legion of avid readers will be delighted with Forget Me Not. I know I’ll remember it.”

  —Carla Kelly, RITA and Whitney Award–winning author

  “With her trademark warmth and humor, Sarah introduces us to a marvelous cast of characters who will quickly win everyone’s heart. The next Gents book cannot come soon enough!”

  —Sian Bessey, USA Today best-selling author and INDIES award winner, author The Noble Smuggler

  “Fans of the Jonquil family should be prepared to lose your heart to another band of ‘brothers.’”

  —Esther Hatch, INDIES Silver Medal Award winner, author A Proper Charade

  “Forget Me Not is everything I’ve come to love in Sarah M. Eden’s novels. Readers will fall in love with not just Julia and Lucas but all the Gents and will be waiting eagerly for all their stories.”

  —Joanna Barker, Whitney Award finalist, author Secrets & Suitors

  Chapter One

  Nottinghamshire, 1777

  Lucas Jonquil felt a painful familiarity with the headstones in the parish churchyard. He knew where his grandparents were buried, a beloved uncle, his darling little sister, one of her childhood playmates . . . Now the graveyard claimed both his brothers.

  “Why could James not have pursued a career in the law or the church?” Mother had bemoaned when her second son had declared himself determined to join the army.

  But James had felt no pull to either endeavor. The siren call of noble and heroic adventure had proven too much for him and their nearest neighbor, Stanley Cummings. Both had rushed off, quite to their parents’ dismay, and joined. Stanley, who was Lucas’s age and three years older than James, was currently fighting in the war with the colonies. James, the last brother Lucas had had, the last sibling he’d had left, hadn’t survived a year.

  As he left the churchyard behind and walked toward Lampton Park, Lucas swallowed back the thick lump that had lodged itself in his throat the moment word had come to Lampton Park of his brother’s death and hadn’t dissipated since. Of his family, only he and his parents remained.

  James’s funeral, held mere days earlier, after his parents had made difficult and expensive arrangements to have James’s body returned to England, had been an understandably bleak affair. Lucas had wept from the very depths of his heart, anguished at yet another loss, grieved for a future suddenly snatched away, and worried over the very real possibility of yet another funeral, yet another life cut short.

  His tears had mostly dried, and his devastation had begun to give way to determination. James’s life had been snuffed out, and Lucas was going to see to it his life burned bright enough for both of them.

  It was that determination that propelled him forward, through the doors of his childhood home. The energy of that resolution surged through him as he stepped into the library to make his plans known to his parents.

  “Good morning, Lucas,” Mother greeted.

  Father motioned him over. “Join us, son. We’re enjoying a lively discussion of the weather.”

  Usually, his father’s often-ridiculous sense of humor was one of his favorite things. He, however, had entered the room on a mission and did not respond.

  “It is time I moved to Brier Hill,” he said.

  His parents sat quite still and quite unshocked.

  Father looked to Mother. “I wonder if the weather is mild at Brier Hill as well.”

  “Perhaps the mornings are cold there just now,” Mother said.

  “Warmer in the summer,” Father acknowledged.

  Lucas allowed a smile at his parents’ absurdity. The Jonquil family had a well-earned reputation for humor. “I haven’t come to discuss the weather.”

  Father shrugged. “A shame, that. There’s nothing so riveting as the weather.” The gentleman was a rarity of the most entertaining sort.

  “We will stop torturing you,” Mother promised. “Do tell us why you wish to take up residence at Brier Hill.”

  He sat on the sofa beside her. “I am of age.”

  “But are not required to leave Lampton Park,” Father pointed out.

  “Not required, no, but desirous to do so.”

  Mother set her gentle, calming hand on his arm. “Why do you wish to leave?” Something in her tone rang a little too close to pity.

  That James’s death had shaken him to his core had most certainly not escaped anyone’s notice. And anyone who knew how like a brother to him Stanley was couldn’t help but piece together his growing worry on that score. He didn’t mind that others knew of his grief and concern, but he didn’t want to be seen as running from that pain. />
  “Brier Hill was always meant to be mine,” he said. “‘The heir should have independence and space of his own.’” He repeated verbatim the explanation he’d heard from his parents over the years. Brier Hill was a tiny Lampton estate in the north of England and had, for generations, been designated for the use of the heir, to live in and oversee and raise his family, until Lampton Park became his. “I am ready for that space and the chance to start my own life of independence.”

  “Does this mean you no longer wish for your income from the estate?” Father asked, his tone perfectly serious but his eyes dancing. “In the name of independence, of course.”

  “Does this mean you no longer wish me to tell Mother you spend your evenings in the library at our club when you are actually in the billiards room?”

  True to character, Mother and Father laughed. It was impossible not to see the weight in their postures and expressions, the grief that weighed on their hearts, yet they could smile and jest and still reach out for rays of joy. He admired that about them.

  Mother turned her gaze to him once more, as kind and tender as always. “Do you truly wish to make Brier Hill your home now?”

  His parents had lost all but one of their children. Were they ready for him to move away? He knew he needed to, knew it was time, but he didn’t want to add to their pain.

  “It isn’t terribly far away,” he said. “And we will all be in London for the Season.”

  Mother patted his hand. “We do not begrudge you this change, Lucas. We knew you would undertake it when you were ready. If you are feeling that pull now, I would wager it is time.”

  “I had thought, with losing James, I would wish, rather, to remain here, with you both.”

  Father shook his head. “Coming face-to-face with the extreme frailty of life is far more likely to convince a young gentleman such as yourself to begin truly living his own life.”

  “Even if doing so means abandoning you?” He was beginning to have second thoughts.

  “I would be lying if I said we will not miss you,” Mother answered. “But we want you to begin this new journey. It is best and right and good that you should. And, my dear Lucas, Brier Hill is a perfect place for a new beginning.”

  He looked at Father and received a nod of agreement. “Care for the estate, make it your home, but don’t tie yourself unceasingly to it. You are building a new life; don’t forget to live it.”

  That became his motto as he prepared to permanently relocate to Brier Hill. “Don’t forget to live.” It encapsulated so well what James’s death had convinced him to do. Live. And live well.

  ***

  Julia Cummings did her utmost to avoid Robert Finley whenever possible. All her life he had taken delight in tormenting her. She might be only twelve years old, but even she knew a gentleman of eighteen ought to have better things to do. Watching him approach after services on a sunny Sunday morning, she knew nothing good was likely to come of it. There was, however, no escape.

  “Did you hear?” His nose scrunched as he spoke to her. He did that when feigning displeasure.

  “Did I hear what?” she asked.

  He sighed as if he pitied her, but the glint in his eyes spoke far more of a feeling of superiority. “No one ever speaks to you children.”

  “That is obviously not as true as it should be,” she said dryly.

  He straightened the lace at his cuffs. “Lucas Jonquil is leaving Lampton Park.”

  This was hardly the foundation-shattering revelation he seemed to think it was. Lucas often traveled to Town or to visit friends scattered throughout the kingdom. He had been away from home as often as not for years.

  Julia rolled her eyes and turned to resume her walk down the path through the churchyard.

  “Permanently,” Robert called after her.

  That stopped her on the spot. She looked back over her shoulder at him. “He won’t be living here any longer?”

  Robert’s look of smug satisfaction would have bothered her more if she hadn’t been inwardly panicking. He rushed into a self-important explanation of how he’d heard about the change in residence and something about a northern estate. Julia noted it only vaguely, her thoughts entirely on Lucas.

  Why was he moving away? Why hadn’t he told her? He and Stanley both filled the role of brother in her life. She was important to him; she knew she was. He wouldn’t go away for good when she needed him so much. Stanley had abandoned her. Lucas wouldn’t do the same.

  Julia moved swiftly from the churchyard, not bothering to take her leave of Robert. He knew she considered Lucas family and had, without a doubt, told her of his supposed departure in order to torture her with it. She hadn’t time to shoot the messenger just then, more was the pity.

  She marched directly past her father’s carriage. “Where are you—?”

  “Lampton Park,” she said, not slowing her steps.

  By the time she reached the turn onto the drive at the Park, she was running. Lucas wouldn’t leave, not now while Stanley was so far away. He wouldn’t. She couldn’t bear for him to. Her knock was answered quickly.

  She knew the butler well and wasn’t the least intimidated by his glower. “I wish to speak with Lord Jonquil.”

  A bit of humor touched his stoic expression. “He is in the library, Miss Cummings.”

  She rushed past, knowing perfectly well where the library was. On her way there, she passed Lucas’s father. “Good morning, Lord Lampton.” She waved as she went by without pausing even for the obligatory curtsy. Her business was of utmost importance; there was no time for niceties.

  “Are you searching out Lucas?” he asked.

  “I know where he is,” she answered over her shoulder. “In the library.”

  He waved her on. “Always a pleasure, Julia.”

  Her feet took her directly to her destination. Lucas was, indeed, inside. He stood at the large table set among the tall bookshelves, pulling a book off a stack. He had started powdering his hair earlier that year. She didn’t like it. His hair used to be allowed to hang free, in untamed golden curls. He’d sometimes tied it back with a ribbon, as most boys and gentlemen did, those who didn’t wear wigs, but it had never stayed. The wildness of his appearance had begun to disappear over the years, replaced by the preference for decorum too many adopted as they grew. If the fates were kind, hair powder would no longer be fashionable by the time she was old enough to have to adhere to it; hair with any hint of red looked terribly odd powdered.

  He looked over as she moved to where he stood. “Julia. Have you come for a visit?”

  She set her fists on her hips, something made more difficult by the fact that she had recently begun wearing panniers, the widened skirt emphasizing the fact that she was most certainly no longer a child. “Robert Finley told me you are leaving Lampton Park.”

  His golden brow dipped. “Why were you talking to Robert Finley?”

  She let out a huff of air. “Because scrambling over headstones seemed an overly drastic means of escape.”

  Lucas stepped around the table a bit, coming closer to her. “Robert Finley isn’t dangerous or anything of that nature, but he isn’t the most admirable of gentlemen.”

  She pressed a dramatic hand to her heart and assumed an expression of utter surprise. “This is shocking information!” She had known Robert Finley all her life; she knew what he was.

  “Point well made, Julia.” He eyed her a little peculiarly. “If you still wore your hair in braids, I’d tug one of them right now.”

  She had liked that once upon a time. But not now. “I’m too old for that.”

  He sat on the edge of the table, facing her. “What are you now? Ten years old? Eleven?”

  “I’m almost thirteen.”

  His mouth twisted, and his eyes narrowed. “No. You can’t be.”

  “I am,” she said. “And
you still haven’t answered my question.”

  He folded his arms across his chest. A little smile tugged at his mouth. “You didn’t ask a question.”

  Hadn’t she? No matter. “You know what I was asking.”

  He shook his head slowly. “Can’t say that I do.”

  She threw her hands up. “Why do you always tease me when I don’t want you to?”

  “You used to laugh when I teased you,” he said.

  “And you used to be funny.”

  His mouth twitched at the corner. “I’m not now?”

  “Am I laughing?” She quirked an eyebrow, doing her best imitation of an expression his mother often wore when besting someone in a battle of wits. “Besides, teasing is for little children.”

  He looked the tiniest bit repentant. “I forget sometimes that you’re growing up. I still picture you running along the river with Charlotte and Harriet, the way you were then, and I forget.”

  There was too much sadness in his tone for her to stay fully angry with him. She leaned against the table next to him. “I miss them,” she said.

  “So do I.” He gave her shoulders a squeeze as he’d done countless times throughout her life. He and Stanley both did that. “And I miss my brothers.”

  “And my mother,” Julia said, leaning her head against him.

  “And Stanley,” Lucas said.

  She stiffened, her heart pounding in her neck. “Has he—Has Stanley—He’s not—?” She couldn’t seem to catch her breath, fear and agony blending inside.

  “Oh, sweeting, no. I haven’t heard any unhappy news of him. I only meant that I miss him being here with us.”

  “Oh.” The word emerged on a rush of breath. She swallowed at the tears welling up in her throat. “I thought—”