She’d expanded her mind, fortified her defenses, set her feet firmly on her own defined path. And she’d done it entirely on her own. Indeed, she’d come to prefer being alone. That would not be an option today.
Father would be disappointed if she was gone too long after Lucas’s arrival. She rose reluctantly from her bench, holding fast to her mathematics book and arithmetic notebook.
A breeze blew as she walked back toward the house. The air had been colder of late. Winter would soon be upon them. She didn’t mind. Winter months were her favorite. Very little socializing was expected. No one batted an eye if she spent days on end in a chair by a fire, reading a book.
She entered the house unnoticed. Before moving to the drawing room, where she knew everyone would be gathered, she slipped into the small sewing room and tucked her books in the drawer of an end table. They would be waiting for her when she returned.
For a moment, she stood in the dim, empty room convincing herself to not simply retreat to her bedchamber and refuse to leave until Lucas did. It would be easier. But she was stronger than she used to be, certainly strong enough to keep her head held high while he was nearby.
No one noted her entrance when she reached the drawing room.
Lucas was in the midst of what appeared to be a riveting tale. “Kes stood at the base of that Mont Aiguille and said, ‘Die up there if you must. I will keep my feet on the terra firma.’”
“And did you climb without him?” Lord Lampton asked, grinning.
“Of course.” A corner of his mouth tugged foppishly. “Antoine de Ville managed to summit it in 1492. Surely an enterprising gentleman of this era could manage a bit of mountaineering on that peak as well. And, you will notice, I didn’t die.”
“Neither did I,” Mr. Barrington said.
“What you didn’t do was live.”
Mr. Barrington shook his head. “That is always the theme with you. Live life. Have adventures. Do anything and everything. You make a person tired, you know.”
Lucas pointed at his friend. “And yet, you’ll be the first to volunteer for the next adventure, mark my words.”
The next adventure. Lucas had not changed. Always going. Always leaving. Always forgetting her.
“Julia.” Father had, it seemed, spotted her standing there. “You’ve returned. Come join us.”
“Do,” Lady Jonquil said. “Lucas is telling us the most diverting stories. This one about his time in Switzerland.”
Here was firm footing. “I’ve read about Switzerland. Some of the tallest mountains in Europe are found there.”
“I know.” Excitement shone in Lucas’s eyes. “I climbed one of them.”
“And he plans to do so again,” Mr. Barrington said. “I suspect every time he reads of a new peak, he’ll rush off to climb it.”
Yes, that fit the Lucas Jonquil she knew.
“Come sit, Julia,” Father insisted.
She joined him on the sofa but kept to the edge of it. The moment she was permitted to take her leave, she would do so.
“You would do well to make yourself comfortable.” Father likely knew her too well to not recognize her posture of impending flight. “Lucas, I would wager, will appreciate your company.”
“Why should he change that particular tune now? It has served him so faithfully these past years.”
Lucas watched her, confusion written on his once-familiar face. He was older now and, not unsurprisingly, even more handsome than he’d been before. He’d always been rather nauseatingly popular with any and all of the young ladies his age, whether they’d grown up in the area or simply been passing through. She’d heard again and again from her brother how in demand Lucas had been in London. Yes, he was handsome, but he was also fickle.
“We have something to tell the both of you,” Lady Lampton said. Her wide smile and dancing eyes told Julia this was no small thing. “In honor of Lucas’s return, we will be hosting a ball at Lampton Park at week’s end. Is that not exciting?”
Exciting was not the word Julia would have chosen. She did not care for social gatherings, and she was far from accomplished at dancing, though that social nicety had been included in her scant formal education.
Across the way, Lucas turned to Mr. Barrington. “I hope you have your dancing slippers handy. It seems we’re to quadrille and allemande until the wee hours.”
“I will leave that in your capable hands,” Mr. Barrington answered.
Lady Lampton looked to him, her expression both eager and concerned. “You will join us, won’t you? We very much wish for you to.”
He dipped his head. “Of course, Lady Lampton.”
Julia leaned a bit closer to her father, lowering her voice. “I am not required to attend, am I?”
Father’s silver eyebrows pulled low. His brows had been silver for as long as she could remember. She had seen him now and then without his hair powdered, and he had only a few strands of gray. “All the neighborhood will be there,” he said. “Some guests will be arriving from out of the county. It will be quite the crush.” He spoke as if that would make her more eager to attend. Surely he knew her better than that.
“You know I dislike balls.”
Father gave her a gentle look. “How can you know if you dislike them when you have refused to attend any?”
It was an argument but not an iron-clad one. “I have also never been devoured by wild dogs, but I am entirely certain I would not enjoy that either.”
She, apparently, did not keep her rebuttal quiet enough. “I am relatively confident my ball will be more pleasant than that,” Lady Lampton responded. Enough amusement lay in the words to appease any concern that Julia had given offense.
“I haven’t the slightest doubt in you as a hostess,” Julia said. “I simply don’t care for social gatherings, regardless of who has planned them.”
Lucas sat next to her. He slipped his hands around hers where they rested on her lap. She pulled them free, but that deterred him only a moment.
“Do come, Julia,” he said. “Everyone in the neighborhood would miss you if you were not there.”
She could almost laugh at that. “Who is left to miss me, Lucas? Robert Finley? He, thankfully, quit noticing my existence years ago. Charles Hampton is away at Cambridge. Emma Carter married last year. Your brothers and sister are dead, as are mine. No one misses me, Lucas, because no one is left.”
Lucas’s golden brow twisted in confusion. Lady Lampton watched her with the look of pity far too many had been lobbing at her over the years.