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.