Father nodded. “Obstinacy was once one of her more defining character traits. As a child, she never could resist a dare.”
Oh, he’d adored the tiny Julia he’d watched as a child. “I hope she enjoys herself at the ball.”
“Oh, she will.” Mother spoke quite firmly, with a surprising degree of conviction. “How could she not be entirely pleased with this ball when we have been planning it for ever so long? The evening will be precisely what any young lady would hope for.”
Though Lucas had known his mother to be confident in her abilities as a hostess, he’d not heard her speak with quite this level of conviction. Was she truly so sure of her plans, or was she attempting to convince herself?
“All will be well,” Father said. “Now that you are here.”
“Here for a time.” He didn’t wish to cause them grief, but they needed to remember that he was not remaining. Brier Hill was his home, and it needed his attention before he took his next travels.
He would see to it Julia enjoyed the ball, he and his parents were granted ample time together, and Kes experienced the joy that was Lampton Park. Then he would return to his most important pursuit: living the life his siblings and his best friend had been denied, having enough adventures, thrills, and joys for all of them.
He owed them that much.
Chapter Five
Julia did not often venture from the immediate vicinity of Farland Meadows, but she knew if she remained at home, her father would continue pressing the matter of the Lampton Park ball. She had agreed to attend—she wouldn’t wish to cause Lady Lampton any distress—but continuing to discuss the matter would not improve her outlook on her social obligations.
And so, three days after Lucas Jonquil’s return to the neighborhood, she took an overly long walk around the neighborhood, delaying the necessity of returning home.
She loved her father, and she knew he loved her, but they saw so differently on these matters. He viewed her tendency toward isolation as a hindrance to her happiness. She knew it to be a necessity. They’d debated the matter many times. While they had never come to be in agreement, she had attended the occasional gathering and he had kindly indulged her preferences. They’d found a peaceful existence at Farland Meadows. Then Lucas had returned and tossed it all into confusion.
Behind her on the road, she could hear the clop of hooves. She stepped onto the grass, allowing room to pass. A pony cart came to a stop beside her. She looked up at the driver. “Why, Mr. Barrington. Are you without your companion?”
“As you see.” He was a very direct sort of person. “What brings you out on the road?”
“I was taking a restorative walk,” she said. “My wanderings are, it seems, taking me the long way home.”
He nodded. “Would you prefer solitude, or may I offer to drive you back to Farland Meadows?”
She would most certainly have preferred solitude, but to say as much would be rude. “I will happily accept your offer, thank you.” A moment’s effort and she was sitting beside him on the cart bench.
“Lucas and Lord Lampton are in Collingham,” Mr. Barrington said. “Otherwise, he too would be enjoying your company.”
She, however, would not necessarily have enjoyed his. “I am not upset at Lucas’s absence.”
He glanced at her. “Why is that? It is my understanding the two of you are friends.”
“Were,” she said quietly.
“I confess I am surprised.” Mr. Barrington did not, however, sound upset. “Lucas has mentioned you often over the years.”
That was both surprising and concerning. “Did he say kind things?”
Mr. Barrington’s eyebrow inched up, though his expression didn’t wholly change. Still, she somehow knew from that small shift in his features that her question had caught him entirely off guard. Something about the spectacles he wore emphasized the pondering she saw in his face. “He has always spoken fondly of you.”
Julia realized she was wringing and fussing her hands. Mr. Barrington’s company was not unnerving. Why, then, was she so on edge? She used to be far more sure of herself.
“Lucas and I met at school,” Mr. Barrington said. “I knew your brother as well.”
Her heart dropped at the mention of Stanley. The grief she felt over her brother’s passing wasn’t as acute as it had once been, but she still missed him horribly, painfully. “Did Stanley speak fondly of me?”
“He adored you. No one who knew him could have possibly thought otherwise.”
Stanley had been a wonderful older brother. If only he had stayed at Farland Meadows with her.
A change of topic felt necessary. “I believe Lucas said you live in Cumberland.”
“You have an excellent memory, Miss Cummings.”
Her cheeks heated at the compliment. “My sister used to say my memory was infuriating. She never could fool me into believing any of the tales she wove.”
“I have often received similar complaints from my sister,” he said. “It is one of the difficulties of having a very logical mind.”
Julia tipped her head a bit. “Is that your way of saying you think I am clever?”
“Would I be incorrect to believe as much?”
Oh, she did like Mr. Barrington. With a bit of a laugh, something rare for her these past years, she said, “I certainly wouldn’t argue with you.”
“I won’t insult your intelligence, Miss Cummings, but will, rather, simply ask the question that is at the forefront of my mind at the moment.”
She watched him as he tooled the cart leisurely along the road to Lampton Park.
“Why do you no longer consider Lucas your friend?” he asked.
The question was very direct. She suspected that was his nature.
Why do you no longer consider Lucas your friend? Literal pain radiated from her heart as the answers flooded over her, none of which was pleasant to ponder.
“He was very kind and indulgent when I was little,” she said after a long moment. “I suspect there is more of nostalgia between us now than actual friendship.”
“I do not believe he would agree with that assessment.”
Exasperation and exhaustion mingled in her mind. “I have not seen him or even heard from him in four years, Mr. Barrington, and seldom in the four years before that. And even before he took up residence at Brier Hill, he was often away. He was kind to me when I was a little girl, but that was years ago.”
Mr. Barrington’s eyebrow arched again, this time in a look of pondering. “Though I cannot reconcile the two, I will tell you that he speaks of you the way one does a dear friend, no matter that his neglect of you is apparently of somewhat long-standing.” He guided the cart off the road and onto the narrow drive that led to Farland Meadows. “I will further tell you this: Lucas is not precisely featherheaded, but he’s also wont to not think things through.”
“Are you saying that, unlike the two of us, he is not clever?”
Mr. Barrington shook his head. “I wouldn’t say that. He tends to lead with his heart without allowing his mind adequate opportunity to give input.”
She didn’t like that explanation very much at all. “And his heart is in favor of his forgetting me for years on end?”
“I can see I am doing a poor job of explaining. I only meant that his intentions are generally good, but his execution is sometimes lacking.”
“Or missing entirely.”
Mr. Barrington smiled at that. “Though you were being humorous when you said it before, I truly do think you are quite clever.”
“And you don’t seem to think that a failing in me.”
He glanced at her again. “Are there people who do think that?”
She shrugged. “I am female. Females aren’t meant to be much of anything beyond pleasant.”
“Only to gentlemen who have no desire to
be anything other than obtuse.”
Julia laughed in spite of the heaviness of their topic. Mr. Barrington’s company was most certainly enjoyable.
He brought the cart to a stop just outside the stables. The staff were there in an instant. Julia was handed down while the stablehands saw to the pony and cart. Mr. Barrington arrived at her side a moment later and walked with her to the house, an easy silence settling between them.
He saw her as far as the entryway, then offered a bow. “Thank you for the honor of your company. I look forward to seeing you again soon.”
A moment later, he was gone.
Their conversation had been a touch more personal than she would have predicted. She’d told him more of her history with Lucas than she generally allowed. Somehow, though, she felt at ease over the matter.
Mr. Kes Barrington felt more reliable than most people of her acquaintance. Certainly more than Lucas. Far more.
Chapter Six
Julia’s abigail stood opposite her, holding all she needed to powder Julia’s hair. “His lordship insists,” Jane said. “If I don’t do as he bids, I’ll be in trouble, miss.”
It was bad enough Julia was being required to attend the ball despite her preferences. She wasn’t even being permitted to choose how her hair would be styled. It was horribly unfair. Still, she didn’t want to land Jane in the suds.
“Not all of the other young people will have powdered hair,” Julia said. “It is beginning to go out of fashion.” If she could convince Jane to take her part, they might convince Father.
“I’ll not go against the wishes of my employer.”
The ball would begin in only a few hours. Julia had no desire to feel ridiculous as well as uncomfortable. “You know how much I dislike having my hair powdered.”
Jane’s expression grew empathetic, but she did not yield. Julia’s spirits fell further. She would be attending a ball she had no interest in, with hair powdered and no doubt styled in the shockingly high pompadour style she so disliked, in a dress she hadn’t even chosen, likely forced to dance when she would rather not, required to pretend she was perfectly pleased with the evening.
She sat for long moments as Jane added more and more powder, the weight growing atop her head. Maybe Mr. Barrington would dance with her. He was thoughtful and kind. She would enjoy his company for a set or two. And Lady Lampton would most certainly serve a delicious supper. Julia could look forward to that.
The evening would be endurable, even if it wasn’t her preference. She told herself that again and again as Jane undertook her ministrations. There was no avoiding the ball, but she could make the best of it.
“Would you care to have a look, miss?” Jane motioned to the mirror on the dressing table behind Julia after she’d finished.
“I would rather not.” So long as she never actually saw herself, she could almost believe she looked the way she would like.
Father stepped inside through the ajar door. He was quite regal in his jacket of deep purple and embroidered waistcoat of soft yellow silk. He, of course, wore his white, powdered wig. All in his generation did. Many in hers did as well. Many more wore their own hair styled high and powdered to within an inch of its life, not unlike hers at the moment.
His gaze fell on her and a tender smile touched his face. “You look beautiful, my dear.”
“Thank you.” It wouldn’t do to argue with him.
He sat on the edge of her bed, facing her. “I wish your mother were here with us tonight. And Stanley. And Charlotte.”
Julia rose and crossed to him, sitting on the bed beside him. Jane dipped a quick curtsy and slipped from the room.
Father seldom spoke of the family members they’d lost, and the sadness in his voice pricked at Julia’s heart. His gaze settled on her high pompadour hairstyle. “The powdering looks very elegant. Jane did well.”
“You know I don’t care for hair powder, Father.”
He shook his head, donning the familiar look of humor he wore when they discussed her ideas on this matter. “The powder gives you an air of sophistication. That is of particular importance at this ball.”
Father placed a great deal of significance on that evening’s festivities. He had indicated as much again and again, but she wasn’t certain why. He valued his friendship with Lord and Lady Lampton, but they had hosted any number of gatherings that he hadn’t anticipated so fervently. Something was different about this night.
He rose. “Let us make our way to Lampton Park.”
She stood and linked her arm through his. “Do we have to stay for the entire ball?”
“Julia.” He sighed her name in weariness.
“I will not be a bother or cause difficulties,” she said. “I was simply . . . hoping.” She didn’t wish to stay any longer than was necessary but hadn’t been told how long “necessary” was. Father, no doubt, defined “as long as necessary” as “the entire night.”
They made the short journey from Farland Meadows to Lampton Park in silence, which had become increasingly normal between them these past years. He kept to himself. She lived inside her own heart and mind.
Lampton Park was full to bursting when they arrived. The Season had ended in London, but winter had not yet made the roads impassable. And, therefore, many had accepted the invitation to the Lampton ball.
Julia stepped into the entry hall with Father. This was by far the largest social gathering she had ever attended. She was not the least prepared for it. Oh, Father. Why are you requiring this of me?
He dipped his head to a couple as they approached. “May I introduce you to my daughter, Miss Cummings. Julia, this is Mr. and Mrs. Overton and their daughter, Miss Overton.”
Bows and curtsies were exchanged, as well as the expected verbal pleasantries. Miss Overton had powdered hair. Julia knew better than to think Father hadn’t noticed. He likely thought seeing such a fashionable young lady sporting that coiffure would convince Julia to be pleased with her own current appearance.
She kept her peace as they waited their turn to be welcomed by Lord and Lady Lampton. As the ball was being held in Lucas’s honor, he was likely to be offering welcomes to guests as well.
He had wagered only a few days earlier that he was capable of making this evening not miserable for her. Did he realize he was beginning his efforts at a deficit?
They reached the front of the reception line, and Father greeted his dear friends. Julia took a deep breath. All the expected bows and curtsies were exchanged.
Lucas smiled at her. He did have a lovely smile—she’d always thought so. Despite everything, she enjoyed seeing it again.
“You’ve powdered your hair,” he said.
She tilted her chin at a confident angle. “I was not given a choice.”
“I think it looks lovely,” he said.
“Considering the state of your hair, I find your taste suspect.”
He leaned in a touch closer. “I feared you would be required to powder your hair. I am sorry.”
“You should be,” she whispered. “You are unlikely to win our wager so long as I have this monstrosity upon my head.”
He chuckled quietly. “I am not defeated yet.”
“Lucas, dear,” Lady Lampton said. “Do accompany Julia into the ballroom. Introduce her to the guests she may not know.”
He dipped his head. “It would be my pleasure.”
He offered his arm, which she accepted. She glanced back at their parents to see near-identical looks of sentimental happiness on their faces.
“They seem very pleased to be rid of us,” she said.
He smiled at her once more. “Perhaps they’re simply happy to help me win our wager.”
“Did you tell them about it?”
“They know I intend to do all I can to help you enjoy the evening.”
He kept her at his s
ide as they moved from one group of guests to the next. Some she knew—families in the neighborhood—but most were strangers. Lucas knew everyone. Friends from his days at Eton and Cambridge. Members of London Society. Friends of friends. He knew their names without being prompted, remembered where he’d met them, asked after mutual acquaintances. He had an entire life away from this neighborhood, a life he repeatedly spoke of being eager to return to.
That was always his way.
The musicians struck up the opening strains of the first dance.
Mr. Barrington approached, and Julia found herself most pleased to see him.
“Miss Cummings”—he offered a brief bow— “if this dance has not been claimed, I would be deeply honored if you would stand up with me.”
She genuinely smiled, something she’d not assumed possible considering the manner in which she was spending the night. “I would be delighted.”
As Mr. Barrington guided her to the dance floor and the set forming there, she caught a look pass between Mr. Barrington and Lucas. It was a nod of acknowledgment.
How utterly humiliating.
“Did Lucas require you to dance with me?”
“I assure you he did not. I asked because I wished to dance with you.”
The dance began, and the steps separated them, but his words remained with her. He’d wanted to dance with her. That meant a great deal. She didn’t often feel truly wanted.
The steps brought her together with him once more.
“Lady Lampton can count her gathering a success,” Mr. Barrington said. “She will be relieved. This evening has weighed on her mind. It’s clearly very important to her.”
“To my father as well, though I’m not certain why.”
“I have a hypothesis that they wish the evening to adequately reflect their fondness for Lucas. I don’t intend to tell him though. He might hear my guess and grow insufferable.”
She appreciated the dryly delivered quip. “We mustn’t allow that.”
“He is already terribly pleased with himself for having managed to uninvite Robert Finley without offending Mr. and Mrs. Finley,” Mr. Barrington said.
Forget Me Not (The Gents Book #1) Page 4
