She set down her lead pencil, her mind too distracted for the concentration needed to undertake mathematics. For the briefest of moments on that first day at Brier Hill, she’d almost believed they would sort all of this out. Then the very next day, he’d laid his claim, staked his territory, and there’d been no room for her.
“I have options.”
Lucas and Stanley had often sent her away. She’d been too little or too slow. The games they’d played were meant only for the two of them, sometimes including James, but often excluding her. How she’d longed to be part of their fun. Charlotte had been far more content to remain at home, quietly playing with her dolls or reading a book. Julia had enjoyed those things as well but not to the exclusion of running and climbing and undertaking precisely the sort of larks her brother and the Jonquil boys had constantly enjoyed.
All the rejection and insignificance she’d felt each time they’d refused to include her had come rushing back as she’d closed the door to this room after being told she was not welcome.
She sighed, not in the dramatic way she had as her younger self but with weariness. Her mind and heart were heavy. Her body was ragged with want of sleep. Perhaps she should attempt her lessons another day. She hadn’t the energy for it just now.
Her mathematics book and papers made a neat stack, held together with a leather strap she’d procured for just that purpose. Her various books and papers had gone all over Farland Meadows with her and even on her various trips to visit cousins in the neighboring county. She enjoyed learning and not merely because it was a distraction.
There were very few pages left in this book. She hadn’t yet sorted a means of getting another. Father’s library had contained many texts on varying academic topics. Lucas had told her the Brier Hill book room boasted a significant collection. Would she be permitted to use them? He had said this house was as much hers as his, and that had turned out to be entirely untrue.
As she stood, her eyes, of their own volition, moved to the tall french doors leading out to the balcony. The area around Brier Hill was so beautiful, and this room, with all its windows and glass-framed doors, offered up that scenery in all its glory. It was little wonder Lucas had claimed this space as his own.
A bark echoed up from below. Lucas was playing fetch with Pooka. He’d done that twice a day since their arrival.
Pooka came running back to him, stick in his mouth. The little dog spun about. Lucas laughed. She wasn’t so despondent over current circumstances that she couldn’t acknowledge that her one-time friend and now husband was quite handsome, especially when he took her advice and didn’t powder his hair. And he was visibly happier when he was outside with his dog than he was inside with her. That would only be truer if he caught her out in this room.
She tucked her book and papers under her arm and lugged the chair back through the door to her bedchamber. The drawer in her bedside table had proven the perfect size for her book and papers, a small collection of lead pencils beside them. It was a private enough storage spot that no one was likely to accidentally stumble upon it. She knew her love of mathematics was an oddity in a lady, and she already suspected the staff of Brier Hill was not overly pleased with their new mistress.
She blew a stray hair away from her eyes with a puff of breath. Her hair hadn’t been done up that morning, her abigail having remained in Nottinghamshire. Julia hadn’t yet obtained another. Indeed, she was barefoot, wearing a very plain chemise à la reine dress without so much as a waist sash to give it a shape that didn’t resemble a nightdress, and wore her hair in a loose braid hanging over one shoulder. She looked an utter vagabond and was rather enjoying it.
There were some benefits to having no one pay the slightest attention to her. She entertained no visitors, had a husband who preferred the company of the dog, and had a household staff who hadn’t the least interest in what their new mistress was doing. It almost made the loneliness worth it.
With Lucas occupied outside, now would be a good time to tiptoe over to the book room and search for another mathematics text she could study when she finished her current book. If she could find one and sneak it back to her bedchamber, she wouldn’t be without something to work on.
She slipped from her bedchamber, through the antechamber, and out into the corridor. She moved quickly, not wishing to be caught sneaking about in such a state of dishabille. There was nothing entirely scandalous in her appearance; it would simply be a little embarrassing should anyone beyond herself be privy to it.
The book room was only a few doors down. She reached it quickly without seeing another soul. It, like the other rooms in the house, boasted tall windows, offering ample light without the need for candles. The walls were filled with bookshelves as tall as the ceiling, high enough to require a rolling ladder to access those nearest the top.
How have you organized this, Lucas? She hadn’t the first idea where to look for the books she sought. If she didn’t find any on this perusal, she could look again when Lucas was next out of the house.
The first section of shelving contained books from philosophers, as well as histories of Greece and Rome. Those could be interesting to look through. Perhaps mathematics texts were up higher. She climbed onto the ladder. The rungs were cold against her toes. Up she went, pulling a book out here and there, trying to find what she was searching for.
A book on the geography of the Nordic nations caught her attention. She stood on the ladder, flipping through it, looking over the maps included, trying to imagine the places described therein. She had never before left western England; she hadn’t the first idea what such a faraway place might look like.
So distracted was she that she didn’t hear anyone approaching until Lucas’s voice sounded directly outside of the book room. She hadn’t so much as a moment to scramble from her perch and escape. She had only time enough to put the book she’d been reading back.
Lucas stepped inside in the very next instant. To her horror, Mr. Barrington came inside as well. There was no chance of hiding or escaping their notice. She tucked herself into as small a ball as she could manage while clinging to the ladder.
“Julia?”
Oh, why did he have to come inside now?
She tucked her head between her arms, desperate to disappear.
He came up directly beside the ladder, looking up at her. “We have a visitor.”
“I noticed,” she whispered.
“Do you mean to offer your greetings?”
She turned her head enough to send him a pleading look. “I don’t even have shoes on, Lucas. My hair is a mess. I’m hardly dressed for company.”
His mouth tipped at one corner. “It’s Kes. He doesn’t count as ‘company.’”
“Please don’t jest while I’m hanging here humiliated.”
“Kes, would you mind staring out a window a moment?” he tossed over his shoulder.
“I would like nothing better.” Mr. Barrington crossed to the window and turned his back to the spectacle she was making.
“If I climb down and run back to my bedchamber very quickly, will you both pretend you never saw me here?” She couldn’t entirely force her voice to be steady and sure.
He leaned against the bookshelves. “Do you have to go? Kes is a neighbor now, of sorts. It would be a fine thing for the two of you to become better acquainted.”
“Can I not simply fetch a book and make good my escape?”
“I’ll fetch you a book,” he offered. “But you could stay and read it here.”
“Dressed like this?”
“Set your arms about my neck. I’ll help you down. Then I have an idea.”
Life had not taught her to trust easily. “You won’t embarrass me further?”
“No, Julia. I won’t.”
She took a breath and did as he’d instructed. His arms slipped beneath her legs and back and lifted her
off the ladder. She fully expected him to set her on her feet, but he didn’t.
“I can walk,” she whispered.
“You said you were embarrassed that you don’t have shoes on.” He carried her with ease. “Your feet will stay tucked away like this.”
It was an unexpected bit of thoughtfulness. “Thank you.”
He set her on the sofa near the fire. She kept her feet tucked up under her.
“Don’t run off,” he said. Then, to Mr. Barrington, he said, “And, Kes, you keep admiring the back gardens.”
Mr. Barrington nodded without turning in the slightest.
Lucas crossed the room to a small chest and, opening it, pulled out a throw, which he flung over his shoulder. He then moved to the bookshelves and, after a very brief search, pulled out a small volume. He returned to where she sat and spread the blanket over her lap, the edge of it hanging far enough to reach the floor.
He set the book in her hand. “I think you’ll enjoy this.”
She read the title aloud. “A Voyage to St. Kilda?”
“It is an account of the author’s travels to the farthest reaches of the Hebrides and all the things he saw and did there.”
“Oh.” She flipped through the pages. “That does sound interesting.”
“So, you have a book to read. Your feet are covered, as is most of the dress you feel is an embarrassment. Will you stay now?”
Did he actually want her to? That seemed unlikely.
She ran a hand down her messy braid. “My hair isn’t presentable.”
He reached out and touched a loose-hanging tendril. “I had forgotten how wavy your hair is.”
“Not so wavy as yours. And mine, unfortunately, still carries a heavy hint of red.” She had always wished her hair were dark like Charlotte’s had been or golden like Lucas’s was.
“It’s not so red as it used to be,” he said. “It’s darker now.”
“Darker or not, it’s still a mess.”
He sat next to her. “It’s fine. Kes doesn’t care one way or another. I assure you he doesn’t.”
“I really don’t,” Mr. Barrington said from the window.
Julia pulled her blanket more comfortably around herself. It wasn’t ideal, but it was better than simply traipsing about with her toes peeking out and her dress hanging unflatteringly around her. “You won’t taunt me?”
“I promise we won’t,” Lucas said.
She dropped her gaze to the book in her hands. “This does look interesting.”
“It’s settled, then.”
Mr. Barrington was quickly situated on a nearby chair, and the two gentlemen took up a conversation on mundane topics, most involving their separate journeys north, their time on the Continent, people they knew who Julia had never heard of.
After a moment, she opened the book Lucas had given her and read silently. “A Voyage to St. Kilda, the remotest of all the Hebrides or western isles of Scotland. Giving an account of the very remarkable inhabitants of that place; their Beauty and singular charity . . .” She was already enchanted and had read only a sentence and a half. Lucas had chosen well.
Against the background of Lucas and Mr. Barrington’s conversation, she read of M. Martin’s journey preparations and reasons for travel, of those who had made the journey before him and with him.
She adjusted, finding a more comfortable position as she read on. The blanket was warm. The sofa was soft and enveloping. Lucas had not simply allowed her to remain in the book room; he had asked her to. She wasn’t foolish enough to think that invitation extended to the one room in the house she most wanted to have admittance to, but she was pleased to have been welcomed here.
The tension in her neck and shoulders eased, and a degree of contentment settled over her. Slowly, the pages grew less focused, and her mind struggled to make sense of what she was reading. As her eyelids grew heavier, she did something entirely out of character: relaxed.
Chapter Fourteen
When Julia was little, Lucas had sat often enough with her slumbering against him to be absolutely certain she was sleeping now. When the initial shock of the unexpected contact eased enough for him to think more clearly, he adjusted her blanket to fully cover her shoulders. The book room could, at times, be drafty.
“It appears things are rather cozy between you and the new Lady Jonquil,” Kes said.
Lucas’s heart dropped. “Unfortunately, current arrangements notwithstanding, that is not remotely true. Everything is an utter mess between us. More so, even, than when you and I first arrived at Lampton Park.”
“I would offer some wise insights, but I have even less experience with marriage than you do.”
“That might actually be helpful.” Lucas set his feet up on the ottoman nearby, careful not to disturb Julia. “My marital ‘experience’ has been mostly amok.”
Kes slouched a bit as well. They preferred the ease of casual postures but had spent too much of their lives being lectured about appropriate gentlemanly behavior to entirely abandon it when they had an audience. That audience, though, was now asleep.
“What missteps have you committed?” Kes asked. “Forgot an anniversary? Told her that her favorite gown is unflattering? Compared her unfavorably to another woman?”
“Those pitfalls are the obvious kind, my friend. I only err in unexpected and complicated ways.” He let his head fall back against the sofa, eyes on the ceiling above. “I’ve been avoiding her, which I cannot imagine has been interpreted by her in any flattering way. I told her Pooka likes absolutely everyone only to have the traitorous mongrel turn his nose up at her. I told her the house was her home now and then tossed her out of one of the rooms and chastised her for making changes I didn’t appreciate.”
Kes actually cringed at the last item, which Lucas knew was the most incriminating of the three examples.
“Was she wanting to knock down walls or some such thing?” Kes asked.
He shook his head. “Move a desk.”
“You are an idiot, Lucas Jonquil,” Kes said unceremoniously. “To ostracize your wife of less than a fortnight over a single piece of furniture is the height of stupidity.”
“It wasn’t the desk; it was the room. And, yes, I realize that sounds just as bad, but this house has been filled to the attics with tension ever since our arrival, and that one room is the only peaceful place left.” He pushed out a puff of breath. “We are two people attempting to share a space neither of us wants to share. She is an unwitting hostage, while I am the village being invaded. At the same time. In the same place.”
Kes’s gaze narrowed in a contemplative way. “Strangers work through this awkward period of adjustment. Surely two friends can manage the thing.”
“Except you yourself heard Julia declare that she doesn’t consider us friends.” That had stung more than anyone likely realized. “And, further, within the first few minutes of our being at Brier Hill, she told me she has no expectation of ever being happy here. We’re two people connected by a thick rope of resentment. I suspect in the end, we’ll simply hang ourselves with it.”
“If you could toss out that rope and forge something new between you, what connection would you choose?” Kes asked.
That was not a difficult question to answer. “Ideally, a connection in which we were married because we wanted to be and loved each other. That ship, however, has not merely sailed; it has been caught in a storm and sunk to the bottom of the ocean, never to be seen again.”
“Is there a ship that hasn’t suffered such a drastic fate?” Kes had a way of silently and subtly indicating that he heard and appreciated Lucas’s jests but hadn’t any intention of making his approval of the joke obvious.
“If you had asked me a few weeks ago, I would have told you she and I were and always would be friends.” He didn’t know how he’d lost something so fundamental.
> “Perhaps that is the connection you ought to focus on: becoming friends again.”
Lucas shook his head. “Julia has made her disapproval of me well known. She doesn’t like me, care for me, or trust me.”
Kes pulled off his spectacles and rubbed at the space between his eyes. “For someone who did exceptionally well in his philosophy courses, you aren’t always a very thorough thinker.”
“I beg your pardon?”
Kes motioned to him with his glasses. “A lady who didn’t trust you would never curl up beside you and sleep so readily as she has. She would never allow herself such vulnerability if some part of her didn’t believe you worthy of at least a portion of her trust.”
“She has done this since she was tiny,” Lucas countered. “I suspect it is nothing more than habit.”
“Habits are broken by fear and pain.” Kes put his spectacles on once more. “That she hasn’t entirely shed this one is reason for optimism, my friend.”
“How is it you know so much about women?” Lucas laughed.
Kes offered a small, tight smile. “We are friends, but that doesn’t mean you know all my secrets.”
Now that was intriguing. “I hope a few of them are shocking.”
He shook his head. “We’re focusing on you at the moment. How do you intend to forge a new friendship with your very wary wife?”
“Bribery?” Lucas suggested.
Forget Me Not (The Gents Book #1) Page 10
