Page 22 of Forget Me Not

“I have given thought to the arrangements you have made with Lord and Lady Lampton.” She spoke as calmly and unhurriedly as she could manage. If he thought she was being too emotional, he might not hear her out. “I was taken so entirely by surprise the night of the ball that we hadn’t an opportunity for a calm and reasoned discussion. I hope we might have one now.”

He smiled softly. “Of course, dear.” He patted her hand before weaving his fingers together and resting his hands against the deep-red, flowered fabric stretched across his belly. This was familiar ground once more. “Lady Lampton expressed some regret over our not speaking more plainly of this to the two of you sooner.”

Their parents had, it seemed, begun to rethink this ill-advised plan. Perhaps Lucas’s objections, painful as they’d been, had made an impression. Hope began to bubble once more. Father’s love and affection had buoyed her through the most painful of experiences. Thank the heavens she had not lost that critical connection.

“When you and Charlotte were born so near in age to Lampton’s youngest boy, our families could not have been happier. At last, our two families were in a position to make the match we’d wanted for generations. Then poor Philip died.”

He had succumbed to a fever at the tender age of seven. Julia had been only a year younger.

“James Jonquil was, we decided, not so very much older,” Father continued. “A match between him and Charlotte—she being the oldest of you girls—would still be a fine thing. And then our sweet little Charlotte died.”

Emotion clogged his voice, and a lump formed in Julia’s throat. Years had passed since Charlotte’s death, and still, the loss stung so acutely. She looked away, not wishing him to see the tears that threatened. She did her utmost to avoid it whenever possible.

“James was killed not so long after that.” Father sighed, the sound one of soul-deep exhaustion. “We debated for some time whether you and Lucas were too—”

“Ill-suited?” she supplied, looking back at him.

“Too far apart in age. Nine years is no small gap. But your mother and I had eleven years between us. Lord and Lady Lampton claim an eight-year difference. And once two people have reached adulthood, nine years is hardly worth noting.”

Dismissingobjections was not the direction she’d hoped this conversation would take.

“Therearedifferences worth noting though,” she said. “He thinks of me as a little sister, which is not at all the emotional foundation on which one ought to build a marriage.”

“That is not his view of you, Julia.” Father actually chuckled.

“He also considers me a poor option for a wife, considering he could have his choice of all the eligible ladies in Society.” Julia gathered her resolve ever more firmly about herself. “I know he objects to this marriage as much as I do.”

Father waved that away. “As I said only a moment ago, Lucas met with his father and I last night. We discussed a great many things, including you.”

They had discussed this. Without her.

“Was there any point, Father, at which any of you considered thatIought to be part of these discussions?” She pressed onward before he had the opportunity to voice any objections. “I know that it is the duty of a father to make a match for his daughter, but I never in all my life suspected you, of all fathers, would do so without giving any thought to my disposition or happiness.”

“I have taken all of that into account,” he firmly insisted.

“You could not have, else the inadvisable nature of these arrangements would have stopped you from proceeding.”

“Julia—”

“Please, listen to me.” She leaned a little closer, holding his gaze. “I know you think I am merely being headstrong, but I assure you this goes deeper than that. You know that I am happiest at home, living a quiet, sedate existence. Lucas has spent nearly all of the last eight years traveling, climbing mountains, leaping from one bold adventure to another. He has spoken again and again since his return of the many journeys he still intends to undertake. How are two people so very different ever to make a life together?”

“Domestic life settles most gentlemen to one extent or another,” he said. “And his adventurous side will, I do not doubt, prove an impetus for you finding yours.”

“If my happiness in this marriage requires that I fundamentally change who I am, then how can you possibly believe it would be a good one?”

His expression hardened a bit. “You would be better for gaining a bit of bravery.”

His words inflicted pain. Yes, she preferred being at home, she preferred quieter pursuits. That did not, however, mean she was cowardly, and neither did that make her inferior, as Lucas had heavily implied. “Am I to gain this bravery by daily facing the daunting weight of being alone and unwanted by a husband whose heart lies everywhere except at home? I assure you that is a learning experience I do not care to have.”

Father stood, assuming an unyielding posture. “This marriage will be good for you, Julia.”

“Because you believe it will change me?” She stood as well.

“I have been too indulgent,” he said. “I’ve not always known how to...” He took a chest-raising breath as he paced to the window. There was so seldom tension between them, but here it was again. “I ought to have known better than to believe you had come for a pleasant chat rather than another argument.”

“I will never be happy married to Lucas, Father,” she said. “We are too dissimilar, and we want entirely different things in life.”

His shoulders rose and fell with a sharp breath. “Lucas has agreed to this. He made no objections last evening as we finished drawing up the marriage settlements. This will proceed as planned.” His jaw tightened. Frustration hardened his gaze. “You can arrive to your wedding willingly and with dignity, or you can be brought to the church forcibly. I leave it to you to decide which.” He turned his back, something he had never done before.

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