Lucas stood once more and pulled her into a hug. “My apologies, Julia. I hadn’t intended to make you worry like that for even a moment. I am certain Stanley is perfectly well.”
“He’s the only one left, Lucas,” she said, her face against his silk waistcoat. “Everyone else is gone.”
He patted her back. “You still have your papa.”
She nodded. That was true.
“And my parents love you like their own child,” he said.
They were very kind to her, always welcomed her warmly into their home, even when she was storming through it, searching out one or another of their children.
“And I’m still here, Julia.”
Her heart ached a little as she repeated herself. “Robert Finley told me you are leaving Lampton Park.”
“I am.” He spoke the words as if they were a simple statement of fact that ought to have no more impact than an observation on whether or not the roads were passable. “I’m taking up residence at Brier Hill.”
She pulled back, looking for some indication that she was misunderstanding him. She found none. “Where is Brier Hill?”
“In Cumberland,” he said.
“Cumberland?” How horrid. “That is the other side of the country.”
He smiled as if she’d made a joke. “Not quite as far as that. It’s only a few days by carriage.”
“How many days?”
He shrugged. “That depends on weather and road conditions.”
“I’m in earnest, Lucas. Is Brier Hill near enough that you’ll be here often?”
“No, sweeting. I’ll come back now and again, but I can’t make that journey often.”
It was true, then. “You are leaving.”
“I need my own home, with space to myself.”
“But you’ll be so far away.” She fought the urge to pout, trying very hard to present a picture of maturity no matter how tempted she was to stomp her foot. “I’ll be all alone.”
“Stanley will be home soon enough, you’ll see. And he’ll be living at Farland Meadows with you.”
“Could you not wait until he returns and then withdraw to Cumberland?”
She couldn’t tell if his answering expression was sympathy or pity, but she didn’t particularly care for either possibility.
“It is time for me to claim my corner of the world, Julia.”
“And leave me by myself in this corner?”
“I am sorry.” Though he sounded sincere, there was no room in his tone for a change of plans.
“Please don’t go,” she said quietly, urgently. “Please.”
“I have to, sweeting.”
“Please.”
He shook his head. “It is time for me to move on.”
The fight drained from her as she stood there trying desperately to hold together the pieces of her life that were suddenly flying in all directions. She’d lost her sister. Her mother. Lucas’s sister, who had been her dear friend when they’d been children. His youngest brother, Philip, who had been near to her in age. James, who had been like another brother. And Stanley was so far away, in danger.
Lucas always left her. Always. Part of her died a little inside every time another person she loved went away. She couldn’t do it again. She couldn’t endure that heartache one more time.
She let out her pent-up breath, allowing her shoulders to drop. “I hope you’ll be happy there.”
“I will be.” He walked back around the table to where his book stack sat. But he looked at her one more time. “I’ll come by and bid you farewell before I leave in a couple of days.”
She nodded, but she didn’t mean it. He could come to Farland Meadows, but she wasn’t going to make any goodbyes. Her twelve years of life had been filled with too many farewells. She wouldn’t endure another.
It didn’t do to set one’s heart on people when all people did was leave.
Chapter Two
Nottinghamshire, 1785
Eight years later
Lucas Jonquil hadn’t set foot on his family estate in well over a year. He and his friend Kester Barrington had undertaken their Grand Tour together—Paris, Geneva, Rome. So many places and people and sights. A glorious year of traveling the Continent. But Lucas was eager to be home again.
“Your parents won’t mind that I’m coming along with you?” Kes pulled his mount up even with Lucas’s.
“They like you well enough. They’ll be happy to see you.”
Kes arched an eyebrow above his wire-rimmed spectacles. “Happy as they are to see you?”
Lucas tipped a corner of his mouth up in a smile of feigned arrogance. “Everyone’s always happiest to see me.”
They set their horses at a slow walk, meandering toward the Lampton Park stables. Drinking in the sight of his beloved childhood home required moving slowly.
Frank, who’d run the stables for a number of years, met them at the paddock, his familiar gap-toothed smile in full evidence. “Welcome back, Lord Jonquil.”
“Good to be back, Frank.” A few of the stablehands stepped out as well, offering smiles and bows of welcome. Lucas greeted them as his and Kes’s mares were led away.
Frank lowered his voice and leaned a bit closer. “Your parents are at Farland Meadows just now. You weren’t expected for hours yet.”
“We did make quick work of that last leg of the journey.” Lucas pulled out his pocket watch, a silver timepiece he’d purchased in Vienna. It was not as ornate as many gentlemen’s were, but he’d liked it instantly. He hadn’t brought back many souvenirs of his travels. It made this one all the more treasured. He looked to Frank once more. “Any chance my parents are making a quick visit to Lord Farland?”
Frank grinned. “No, m’lord. You’ve time enough for larking a bit.”
“Don’t you think I’ve outgrown such things? I’m quite the sophisticated gentleman now.”
Frank scraped and bowed quite exaggeratedly, pulling a laugh from Lucas.
“The man has you sorted,” Kes said.
“He’s known me all my life. There’s no fooling Frank.” He slapped a hand on Kes’s shoulder. “Are you up for a walk along the Trent and a call at Farland Meadows? It seems my mother and father aren’t here to welcome home the prodigal son.”
“With how often you’ve told me the Trent is a far finer river than the North Tyne, I think I had best see this marvel for myself.”
Lucas offered quick farewells to the stable staff and moved, Kes at his side, in the direction of Farland Meadows.
“Meeting the famous Julia would mark one thing off my list of items to be seen to,” Kes added.
Lucas couldn’t help a grin. “Julia.” He half laughed, half sighed her name. “She’s a little fireball, with the hair to match. She used to storm through the Park and the Meadows, glaring everyone into submission, determined to set to rights anything she thought was amiss. Nine years’ difference in our ages, and yet, somehow, she was always the one in charge when Stanley and I would spend time with her.”
“Stanley.” Kes sighed, grief and longing in the sound. “Shame about Yorktown.”
Yorktown. Stanley had died in that battle. The neighborhood of Collingham would never be the same without him. Lucas would never be the same. He and Stanley had been the best of friends since infancy. They’d not ever been apart until Stanley had taken up the foolhardy notion of fighting in the war with the former colonies. It was, indeed, a shame. An absolute, utter, life-altering shame.
Lucas could hear the river before he could see it. There were some things that would always sing of home to him: the façade of Lampton Park; the churchyard, with its familiar rows of names; the smell of his mother’s perfume; and the sound of the Trent.
He led the way down a narrow footpath, his favorite way to approach the river. A few quick turns and there
it was before them, meandering in all its beauty.
“A grand ol’ sight, isn’t it?” He couldn’t hold back the smile rising to his lips. He’d missed home.
“I’ll grant you that.” Kes looked over it with his usual logical eye. “But I’m still partial to the North Tyne.”
“That’s because you haven’t seen it all yet.” Lucas motioned him forward. “Upstream, there’s an ancient stone bridge rumored to have been built by Merlin himself.”
“I doubt that,” Kes said, always the most rational of their group of friends, six gentlemen who’d known each other since their school years and were known amongst each other as the Gents. They were closer than friends, really. They were like brothers.
“And there’s a spot up a bit where the river eddies, and it fills with leaves no matter the time of year. When all of us were children, we thought that spot every bit as magical as the bridge.”
“Everything’s magical in childhood,” Kes said.
“My siblings and I used to pilfer pies and sandwiches from the kitchen and sneak over to an outcropping of rock near Farland Meadows. We had picnics, played games, told each other stories, fished in the river.” Lud, he missed those years.
“I’m surprised you were willing to take your Grand Tour. Sounds to me as if Europe had little to offer compared to Lampton Park.”
“Europe made a valiant effort,” Lucas said. “I will happily return, see those things we didn’t this time.”
“You mean to travel more?” Kes asked the question in precisely the tone one used when posing a query to which one already knew the answer.
“I mean to have enough adventures for two lifetimes. Maybe even three.”
“This, then, will be a short visit.”
“Of necessity,” Lucas said. “I have too much pressing on my time to be tied for long to any one place.”
“In that case,” Kes said, “I will accept a tour of your ancient bridge or leaf collection or rocks while I still have the opportunity to do so.”
“The outcropping is not far.” Lucas bent down and picked up a pebble. A quick sideways flick sent it skipping over the water. Why was that so satisfying? He’d always enjoyed it.
“Did little Julia ever join you in consuming your ill-gotten goods at your secret spot?”
“She and Charlotte and Harriet did quite often.”
Harriet was Lucas’s younger sister, lost to them of a fever when she was still a little girl. Charlotte, Julia’s twin, had been killed in a carriage accident as a young girl. Those three had been peas in a pod. Now only Julia remained of their little group.
“I wonder about Julia now and then,” he said. “I’ve not seen her in four years. Not since Stanley died. She hasn’t been home when I’ve visited.” Lucas pulled his gaze from the river.
Someone was sitting on a large, flat rock, precisely the spot he’d been aiming for. Light-brown hair with a generous hint of red fell in cascading waves down the lady’s back. A thin, cream-colored shawl hung over her pale-green gown, which spread out around her, the skirt’s edge adorned with colorful, delicate flowers. She sat with a book on her lap, her eyes not leaving its pages.
He knew her, and yet he hardly recognized her. “Julia,” he whispered.
Kes turned to face him. “Julia? Your little spitfire of a neighbor? From the way you’ve talked about her, I expected her to be a child.”
“She was a child the last time I saw her.” Lucas stood frozen in shock a moment.
“She’s not a child anymore,” Kes said.
No, she wasn’t. His little friend had grown up. He took a step in her direction. A dry twig snapped under his foot, and she looked up from her book and twisted a bit, glancing back at them. Her delicate features, once filled with childish mischief, had softened into the startling beauty of a young lady.
The change, while not unpleasant, was jarring.
He tucked away his surprise. Grown or not, he suspected she was still quick-tempered. He’d always found her fervor quite enjoyable, but he didn’t wish to make their first interaction after the passage of years an explosive one. “Good afternoon, Julia.”
She snatched up a book beside her, adding it to the one in her lap, then stood, pressing the books to the embroidered stomacher at the front of her gown and wrapping her arms around them. It was a protective posture, if ever he’d seen one. Protective? Against what? Or whom?
“Welcome home, Lucas.” The words were congenial, but her tone was hesitant.
“It’s a fine day for being out at the river.” He stepped over to the outcropping. She didn’t move from it but watched him warily.
Warily. Yet another unexpected reaction. He couldn’t explain it.
She looked out at the silver expanse of water. “Being at the river always makes a day fine.”
“As does seeing you,” he said.
Her eyes moved to Kes, then dropped away. She shifted about, clearly uncomfortable. She did not employ the white face powder and rouge that most ladies did, making her blush obvious. Had she grown timid in the company of someone she didn’t know? The eager mischief-maker he’d once known hadn’t been the least bashful.
He would, for the moment, rely on civility to move forward until he could sort out the inexplicable change. “Julia, may I introduce to you Mr. Barrington of Livingsley Hall in Cumberland. Kes, this is Miss Cummings of Farland Meadows.”
Kes bowed. Julia offered a quick and decidedly bashful curtsy. Perhaps this was shyness after all.
“I am told my parents are here calling on your father,” Lucas said.
She kept her books pressed to her, almost like armor. Her chin tipped upward, and she looked less unsure. “They are here often and will, I’m certain, be pleased you are home.” She looked to Kes. “And they will be equally happy to have a friend of Lucas’s here.”
“I believe they already have one of Lucas’s friends here.” Kes indicated her.
She shook her head and sighed. “I would explain to you the myriad ways that sentence is incorrect, but I suspect Lord and Lady Lampton would not appreciate being delayed in seeing their son after a year away.” Books still held to her, she turned away.
“You cannot run off so quickly,” Lucas called after her. “It has been so long since I last saw you.”
“Not long enough,” she tossed back over her shoulder without slowing her swift escape. Just as her braids had once bounced against her back when she had run, her wavy hair did the same now.
“‘Not long enough,’” Kes repeated her declaration. “I hadn’t expected that.”
“Neither had I.” He rubbed at his neck, tension building.
“There was no warmth in her ‘welcome home’ either.”
He nodded. “I noticed, but I cannot explain it.”
“She’s a beauty.”
“Gorgeous,” Lucas admitted. “I will need time to reconcile this grown Julia with the young girl I still picture in my mind. She became a young lady while I was away.”
“And, apparently, took something of a disliking to you.”
He shook his head, unable to make sense of the change. “It is unaccountable. She used to run to greet me, not slowing enough to prevent me from stumbling or tumbling over at the impact. We were dear friends. I cannot imagine what has rendered her so standoffish.”
Kes watched him through narrowed eyes. “Is she to be your latest rescue, Lucas?”
“Rescue?”
“If there is one thing you cannot resist, it is the chance to ease someone’s unhappiness. Ask any of the Gents; we all know it’s true.”
While it was true, it was also worrisome. “Do you think she’s actually unhappy?”
“Perhaps not generally. But I would wager my entire estate that she is quite specifically unhappy with you.”
Chapter Three
Julia
thought she was done crying over Lucas Jonquil. Yet, as she rushed from the spot where they’d stood, tears pooled in her eyes. Hurt, angry tears. How was it he could still wound her after all these years, after all the effort she’d made to shore up her defenses? He wasn’t unkind or cruel. But he had abandoned her over and over again without a backward glance, without a moment’s regret.
“We can have our picnics still this summer,” he’d once promised before he and Stanley had spent that summer traveling to the homes of their schoolmates for the remainder of the summer holiday.
“We’ll keep in touch through letters.” That promise, made when he had been nearing the end of his time at Eton, hadn’t resulted in any correspondence.
“I won’t leave you,” he’d said the day Charlotte had been buried, two weeks before he’d left her to return to Cambridge.
“I’ll visit the neighborhood before the London Season.” He hadn’t.
“I’ll return from Brier Hill now and then.” He’d gone more than two years without returning to Lampton Park from the estate where he’d lived since reaching his majority, though she knew he’d made journeys to London and York and Brighton and later to Europe.
People were forever leaving her behind. Unlike most who’d gone, though, Lucas had had the option to return. He could have. But he’d chosen not to.
She slipped through a gap in the ruins of a stone wall on the east end of Farland Meadows. It had once been an outbuilding of some kind but was now only three dilapidated walls. It was secluded enough to afford her a great deal of privacy. She sat in this place often, thinking and reading and studying. It was her sanctuary.
“Why did I have to sit by the river today of all days?” She would have avoided Lucas had she remained here in her haven.
Her books on her lap, she closed her eyes and pushed away the anticipated pain that too often surfaced in her, focusing on the pounding of her heart. She breathed slowly until her pulse matched the rhythm of her lungs. When her heart quieted, so did her mind. She could think clearly.
“He caught me unawares,” she said. “I hadn’t the opportunity of preparing myself for the memories and broken dreams.” She felt calmer by the moment. “Now that I know he is here, there will be no chinks in my armor until he is gone again.”
Forget Me Not (The Gents Book #1) Page 2