Forget Me Not (The Gents Book #1)
Page 13
“Far be it from me to contradict a lady or to dismiss the possibility that I am wrong,” Mr. Barrington said, “but I am, for the time being, holding to my interpretation. I’m hopeful that you will be patient with him, and kind.”
“Have you asked the same of him?” She, after all, deserved patience and kindness as well.
“Of course I have. We may not be friends of as long standing as he and I, but I do think of you as my friend. I wouldn’t wish to see either of you unhappy.”
The compassion in his words touched her. “Thank you.”
“Someday, you can return the favor when I make a mull of things with my betrothed or my wife or whatever stage of things I might be in.”
She smiled, leaning her elbows on the table and plopping her face into her upturned palms. “Do you have someone in mind already?”
He shook his head. “As much as I rightly accuse Lucas of being something of an idiot where ladies are concerned, I am equally guilty of the same stupidity.”
“It is a shame you never came home with Lucas and Stanley while you were all at school,” she said. “We would have enjoyed having you there.”
“Thank you, Lady Jonquil.” Mr. Barrington rose. “And may I say that I sincerely hope our mutual friend sorts himself out. I suspect you deserve a happy marriage even more than he does.”
“I haven’t had a friend in a long time, Mr. Barrington,” she said. “Thank you for being one.”
He offered a very respectful dip of his head. “With any luck, Lucas will introduce you to the whole lot of us, then you’ll have more friends than you know what to do with.”
“To be perfectly honest, that is a problem I think I would enjoy having. I grew up surrounded by people. Though I have found some enjoyment in being alone over the years since everyone left me, I have to admit that in my heart of hearts, I often grow lonely.”
“Why is it you never had a London Season?” Mr. Barrington asked.
“We were in mourning for Stanley when I might have made my bows. By the time social conventions allowed me to join the whirl, my father did not yet feel equal to it. Then I think he was too . . . comfortable in the quiet and solitude of home.”
“Did you ever ask about going to Town?” Mr. Barrington had a way of asking questions that, somehow, didn’t feel meddlesome.
“I had also come to value the comfort and stability of being at home.”
“That is not Lucas’s preference,” Mr. Barrington said.
She knew that all too well.
His smile was kind and empathetic. “I will see if I can’t drop a few hints to your husband.”
“Subtle hints, if you don’t mind. He is already being forced to include me in aspects of his life he’d rather not.”
“Very subtle.” With his book under his arm, Mr. Barrington left the book room.
But Julia’s thoughts didn’t fully clear. Lucas had an entire life she knew nothing of—friends, associates, travels, character traits. And he was, according to his closest friend, afraid of her.
Chapter Seventeen
“I know what I saw,” Kes said for the third time during their brief walk up the slopes of the nearest peak. “She was working on differential equations.”
Lucas couldn’t make sense of the unexpected discovery. “Why would she be doing that?”
“My theory: your wife is secretly a genius.”
“Julia has always been remarkably clever,” Lucas said. “But I don’t remember her having a passion for mathematics.”
“And she didn’t seem to know that you have a passion for mountaineering.” Kes eyed him sidelong, even as he motioned slightly with his head at their current location—on a mountain. “Are you sure you two actually knew each other before your wedding? Had anyone formally introduced you?”
“Keep with the jests, Kes. Soon enough, you’ll be navigating your own matrimonial trapdoor, and I’ll offer you exactly as much empathy as you’re offering me.”
He was unmoved. “What I’m hoping is that when the time comes, you will offer me even half the help I’m giving you.”
“Help?”
“I don’t exclusively spy on mathematical endeavors, you realize.” Kes stuck the end of his long walking stick against a nearby rock, steadying himself as he took a broad step up a steep section of the trail. “I also discovered a few other things about your elusive lady.”
“What other things?” Lucas could use some helpful information. The headway he’d made with Julia during the picnic had dissipated. He didn’t know how to get it back, let alone build on it.
“Now you value my input? In Italy, you called me a dunderhead.”
Lucas remembered that moment all too well. “You kept asking everyone for directions to the Ural Mountains.”
Kes lifted a single eyebrow. “I was eventually pointed in the right direction.”
Lucas rolled his eyes. “Yes, in the general direction of Russia.”
Their Grand Tour had been a year-long lark, really. Kes’s humor was often overshadowed when he was with the other Gents. Spending time with him alone had been a delight.
Lucas grabbed hold of an obliging tree, using it to keep his balance as he scrambled up a section of loose rock. “What did you discover about Julia?”
“We’re back to that, are we?”
“We never left that.”
Kes caught up with him. He wasn’t the mountaineer Lucas was, but he wasn’t terrible at it either. “She appears to have a good grasp on differentiation but is struggling with antiderivations.”
Lucas eyed his friend, surprised. “How long did the two of you spend discussing mathematics?” Lucas couldn’t quite imagine a long, detailed discussion of calculus occurring casually over tea.
“We didn’t,” he said. “I could see her work from across the book room table yesterday.”
“Did you read anything over her shoulder that might help me scale the wall she has erected between us?” Lucas didn’t see anything particularly promising on that score in mathematics.
“She was intrigued by your vast network of correspondents.”
Did she wish to receive letters? He could write to her when the Gents made their jaunt to Digby’s estate and, later, during their trip to Portugal. But that hardly helped now.
“She spoke at length about your vast number of friends, your cachet in Society, and the comparative isolation of her own past few years.”
That didn’t make sense. “She said in Collingham that she prefers isolation.”
“She told me she prefers the peace and stability of home. That is not quite the same thing.”
Lucas hadn’t the first idea what to make of that. She hid from company, panicked at the mere suggestion of a social gathering or ball, had even told him in no uncertain terms that she wished to retain her hermit-like tendencies. “She doesn’t seem to feel much peace in this home.”
“She seemed at ease when I spoke to her.”
Lucas followed the bend in the footpath and stopped at the overlook they’d been aiming for. Usually, this vista inspired him, soothed and centered him. It didn’t manage to do so this time. “She couldn’t be happy and unhappy at the same time.”
“Couldn’t she?” Kes answered, an edge of mystery in his tone that pulled Lucas’s eyes off the view and to him. “Your Julia strikes me as one who tries very hard to be honest. I suspect, Lucas, if you make it safe for her to do so, you will learn directly from her all you need to know about the mysterious stranger you married.”
Lud, he hoped that proved true. “How did you become so wise?”
Kes shrugged. “Wisdom is easy for those with little to lose.”
They crossed the few more yards needed to reach the one-time shepherd’s hut that Lucas had renovated and turned into a rustic retreat. They were nearly two-thirds of the way up the moun
tain nearest Brier Hill. It was a smaller peak than almost any he’d climbed in Europe. He certainly didn’t need to rest partway up, but the hut had proven a welcome haven time and again. He’d taken shelter there during sudden changes in the weather, had spent a day or two in the quiet tranquility of the mountain when he’d needed time away.
He unlocked the door and stepped inside, Kes directly on his heels. They pulled their bundles off their backs. Lucas crossed to a window and pulled open the curtains to let in some light to work by.
“You’re truly going to make this trek a second time today?” Kes asked as he opened his pack and removed rolled blankets, dry stockings, work clothes, flint and steel, various supplies for treating injuries . . . any number of useful things.
“We’ll be taking a different path up the mountain, an even easier one,” Lucas said. “I’ve been known to walk it simply as a morning pastime.”
“You are mad, Lucas Jonquil.”
Lucas set to unloading his pack, preserved foods, mostly, and a few tools he’d needed on occasion over the years.
“Do you think you will need all these things for your hike with Julia?”
Lucas shook his head. “I’m restocking the place. Before leaving for Europe, I closed it up and mostly emptied it.”
Kes eyed the hut. “It reminds me in a way of your round sitting room. Not as refined, obviously, but cozy and designed for comfort.”
Lucas knew what he was getting at. “Elegance has its limits. I’d rather a place feel inviting than impressive.”
Kes raised an eyebrow. “And is the lovely Lady Jonquil invited into this particular place?”
An odd question. “I suppose.”
“No ‘I suppose’ on this, Lucas. Your first row at Brier Hill was over that round room, and she still avoids it as if it were a flea-infested cloak. You had best sort out your position on this spot before you drag her up the mountain.”
“We won’t even be stopping here. I’m bringing our meal up with us, and it will be a very leisurely stroll.”
Kes held his hands up in a show of innocence. “Do what you will, but bear in mind your edicts on the round room have been taken as law by your skittish wife. Home is where her heart resides. Keep robbing her of that feeling of home and her heart will soon be out of reach.”
“We’re going to walk up to the summit. We’re going to enjoy a meal. We’re going to return home.” Lucas grabbed the door handle. “It will be a simple, pleasant afternoon, building on the simple, pleasant picnic we had.”
“For her sake,” Kes said, “I hope you’re correct.”
“For her sake?”
“As she very rightly pointed out, of the two of you, she has the most to lose.”
***
Lucas hadn’t undertaken any mountaineering with a lady before. To his delight, Julia looked truly pleased. Her gaze eagerly took in their surroundings, the plants, and trees. She perked up at every bird call and paused now and then to look more closely at something along the trail. He would wager his entire year’s income from his father’s estate that she was enjoying herself. Thank the heavens.
“The air is growing cooler the higher we climb,” Julia said an hour into their excursion.
“That is true of every mountain I’ve been on,” he said.
“And the taller the mountain, the colder the air?” she asked.
“For the most part, yes.”
She lifted the hem of her dress a little as she stepped over a clump of rocks. “Is there anything else you’ve noticed that remains constant from one mountain to the next?”
“The air grows a little difficult to breathe if the mountain is tall enough.”
She appeared entirely intrigued. “Really?”
He held out his hand to help her over a tricky part of the trail. She accepted without hesitation.
“Something must be different about the air besides the temperature.” Her brow twisted a bit in contemplation. “Is this mountain high enough for the air to be difficult to breathe?”
“No, this one is too small.”
She met his eye, not pulling her hand from his. “Are you terribly bored being required to undertake a small climb, owing to the inexperience of your companion?”
“Not at all.” He squeezed her fingers. “This mountain is among my favorites, and you are proving yourself a fine mountaineer.”
She looked out over their surroundings once more. “It is beautiful. Not many trees, I’ve noticed.”
“Trees are not abundant in this area of the country.” He swung their clasped hands between them as they walked on. “Falstone Castle has a forest, though, one the Boyce family has been cultivating for generations.”
They continued on, sometimes with hands clasped, sometimes not, having a perfectly pleasant conversation about nature and mountains and the neighbors.
“Kes said you were working on mathematics when he saw you in the book room yesterday.”
She stiffened but didn’t stop. “I hadn’t realized he’d noticed.”
They walked on a minute, the ground temporarily very level. She wore an expression of worried uncertainty. She was putting a wall up between them again. Julia wasn’t pushing him away; she was hiding.
“Do you enjoy mathematics?” He made certain the inquiry held not even a hint of disapproval.
“I enjoy learning new things,” she said. “Ladies aren’t afforded an education with any real depth.”
“And, thus, you have been seeing to your own education.” An admirable undertaking.
“I am trying,” she said. “Some of the gaps are proving difficult to fill with my piecemeal background.”
He preceded her up a steeper bit of the trail than they’d yet encountered. Turning back, he offered his hand once more, taking firm hold of hers. “Be certain of your foothold before taking the next step,” he instructed. “Rushing is an unnecessary risk.”
She followed his advice without objection or struggle.
“I was a fairly good student at Cambridge,” he said once they were walking again. “I could likely help you bridge those educational gaps, answer questions, or point you toward helpful texts.”
She paused on the trail, watching him a moment. “You wouldn’t find that tedious?”
“I have never found you tedious, Julia.”
Her smiled blossomed. An answering warmth spread in his chest.
“What is that look for?” he asked.
“For that enormous fib you just told.” She began trekking forward again.
He took a quick two steps to catch up with her. “What fib?”
“That you have never found me tedious. I recall with great clarity a house party at Lampton Park to which your parents invited friends who had a daughter—a beautiful daughter—very near you in age, about sixteen at the time. And whenever I crossed paths with the two of you, I—”
“Asked endless questions about whether I had kissed her, hoped to kiss her, meant to marry her.” Lud, he did remember that. “She was mortified, and I—”
“And you found me entirely tedious.”
He laughed at the memory. “You kept life decidedly interesting, my friend. One adventure after another.”
“And then you moved here and took all the adventure with you.”
He took her hand once more. “What do you think? Care to join in a few of those adventures now that you’re here as well?”
“I am not the adventurous type, Lucas.”
They reached the flat section of the summit in the next moment, the very spot he’d previously determined would be perfect for their picnic at the top of the world.
He motioned to the gorgeous view. “Even when adventure leads to this?”
She pulled in a slow, amazed breath as she looked out over the valley below. “Oh, Lucas.” She spoke almost breathlessly. �
�It’s—It’s—”
“I never have managed to quite put it into words either,” he said. “I also never grow weary of viewing the world from the mountaintops.”
She traversed the small plane, taking in the expanse while he spread out the blanket he’d rolled up and tied over his shoulder. He’d also trekked up with a leather bag on his back containing their picnic lunch. He set out the food he’d brought, enjoying the sight of her breathing in one of his favorite views in all the world.
After a time, she turned to face him. “Thank you for bringing me here. I love it.”
“I had hoped you would.”
She sat on the blanket, closer to him than he would have predicted. “Do you come up here often?”
He nodded. “Weather permitting.”
“Might I join you sometimes?”
Lucas took her hand. “I would like nothing more.” He raised her hand to his lips and lightly kissed the back of her hand.
Whether the cool air or the kiss brought the extra color to her cheeks, the effect was the same. She looked beautiful, enchanting. If he gently kissed her palm or her wrist, would she color up even more? It was a surprising thing to think about his childhood friend and unexpected wife.
Lucas shook off the idea and set himself more firmly to the task of their picnic conversation. They spoke of her educational interests and the topics of study she most enjoyed. But his mind returned repeatedly to the shockingly intriguing idea of coaxing another blush from Julia. That her eyes continued to sparkle and her complexion remained rosy only added to the strength of the pull he felt.
Did she feel it as well? Or was he simply desperate enough for some kind of future for this marriage that he was imagining connections where none existed?