“I will, of course, attend if it is required of me. But insisting I do so with enthusiasm seems remarkably unfair.”
“We will, of course, extend invitations to all the young people who once lived in the area,” Lady Lampton said. “I cannot guarantee all of them will be in a position to attend, but likely some will. You will enjoy seeing them again.”
“I appreciate your thoughtfulness, but we all know that once they have left, few people return.” She let her gaze hover a moment on Lucas before looking once more at her father. “I have full faith you will relay any pertinent details.” She rose. Lucas followed suit. “If you will all excuse me.”
She sidestepped her one-time friend and left with all possible haste.
Chapter Four
“Did I say something to upset her?” Though Lucas asked the question out loud, he didn’t do so in anticipation of an answer.
Lord Farland gave him one, nonetheless. “She has grown headstrong these past years.”
Lucas smiled despite his heavy mind. “Julia has always been headstrong.”
Lord Farland as well as his parents shook their heads. Apparently this stubbornness was new. If something was the matter with Julia, he didn’t mean to stand about doing nothing.
“Pardon me,” he said to the room as he left, following in her wake.
She’d moved swiftly enough to already be out of sight. Which way would she have gone? Outside? A sitting room? Her bedchamber?
Lucas made his best guess and headed in the direction of the family wing. His legs were longer than hers; he caught up to her as she turned down the corridor toward her bedchamber. “Julia, please wait.”
To his relief, she stopped. She turned and watched him approach with an expression one could only accurately describe as annoyed.
“Are you so opposed to the ball as this?” He took her hand. She pulled it immediately away. Just as she had before. When they were younger, he’d always been permitted to hold her hand. And she’d always been happy to see him. He couldn’t account for the change.
“You don’t powder your hair.” Why that observation fell so suddenly from his lips he didn’t know.
“I refuse to adopt a fashion I find ridiculous simply because it is all the rage.” There was the stubborn fire he’d seen in her as a girl.
“I powder my hair,” he pointed out.
“I know,” she said dryly.
He laughed. How could he not? “Mother and Father host the liveliest entertainments. You’ll enjoy yourself at the ball. And I’m certain some of those who’ve moved away will be in attendance.”
“Then you should have a fine time.” So distant.
“Are you angry with me?”
“No.” She spoke quite matter-of-factly.
“You seem to be.”
Her sigh was both frustrated and weary. “You’ve been gone a long time, Lucas. You do not know me as well as you think you do.”
“So come to the ball,” he said. “That will give us the opportunity to get reacquainted.”
“I already said I would go.”
She had, actually. He was more than a little upended. She was behaving so strangely.
“And you’ll dance with me there?” he asked.
She very nearly rolled her eyes; he could tell she almost had. “If torture is required of me, I will endure it.”
He narrowed his gaze, studying her, trying to sort out the mystery she presented. “At what point did dancing with me become torture?”
“I do not enjoy social gatherings.”
He’d managed to tease her out of her worries and heavy moods in the past, rare as they had once been. With a bit of effort, he could do so now. “I will make it my personal goal for that evening to see to it you are pleasantly surprised by the festivities. I’d even be willing to place a wager on it.”
Her head tilted to the side. “What would the forfeit be?”
He pretended to be shocked. “The promise of gambling captured your interest astonishingly quickly.”
Her lips twitched, but she didn’t allow a smile. Oh, she needed a bit of teasing. He would make that his mission during the fortnight he would be at Lampton Park. “As to the forfeit . . .” He made a show of pondering. “If you enjoy the evening, I will give you the present I brought you from the Continent.”
“You brought me something?” She sounded surprised.
“I certainly did.”
Her brow dropped. “But if I don’t enjoy myself, you won’t give it to me?”
He shrugged. “I imagine I still will; I just might make you wait a little longer.”
“Then let us hope your token is not something prone to spoiling. I am unlikely to receive it for years.”
“Do not doubt me, Caroline Julia Cummings. I have been known to work miracles.”
“I stopped believing in miracles a very long time ago.” She walked past him and disappeared inside her bedchamber. The door closed behind her with a click.
This was not his Julia.
***
Lucas’s mother brushed the feather of her quill back and forth over her chin. “I cannot decide between offering a European-inspired supper in honor of your travels or an English-inspired one in honor of your return.”
“Oh, English,” Lucas answered with exaggerated enthusiasm. “But only if your menu includes jellied eels and stargazy pie.”
Mother wrinkled her nose, rendering the little round patch she always wore above her lip a bit askew. “Fish heads looking up at me from the inside of a pie is not my idea of a tempting dish.”
“But it is so very English.” Lucas held back his grin.
“It is so very Cornish,” Mother countered.
“Then Continental cuisine it is.” Lucas sighed.
Mother swatted at him. “You delight in teasing me, son.”
“I delight in seeing you smile,” he said. “And a bit of teasing is the surest way of accomplishing that.”
“Oh, my darling boy.” She reached over and touched his cheek. “You being here once more has affixed a permanent smile to my face.”
“Perhaps you ought to allow a physician to look at that. It might prove a very serious condition.”
Mother laughed. He would always enjoy that sound. Always.
Father stepped into the library. “A delight to hear your laughter, my dear.”