Page 23 of Forget Me Not

An ache, deep and horribly familiar, spread slowly from her heart through every limb, up her neck, down to her toes. Her father was the one person in her life who had never left her, never forsaken her. Until now. And overthis. Her pleas for her entire future, for some value to be placed on her happiness, meant nothing.

It didn’t do to believe in people. All she received in return for her faith in them was the echoing silence of empty corridors, days on end with her own loneliness, an unyielding back turned on her grief and pain.

Father’s betrayal was the last brick in her protective wall, the final person to abandon her. And she knew in that moment, looking at him turned away from her, that she was done. The wall was complete now, and she would never let anyone slip around it again.

She walked out of the room without a word or a backward glance and returned to her bedchamber to fetch her sturdier boots. They would look rather absurd with her very formal dress, but she didn’t particularly care. She needed to escape this house.

Her abigail was in her room, along with a footman. A small crate and a traveling trunk sat open on the floor.

“Miss Cummings,” Jane greeted. “How fortunate. I need to know what of your belongings you wish to have taken to your new home after your wedding. Your clothing, of course, will be packed, as well as those items needed for your daily toilette. But what of your trinkets and wall hangings and such? Lord Farland has given permission for you to take anything in this room that you would like.”

How generous.

“The miniature of Charlotte and I,” she said, motioning to it on the end table. “And nothing else.”

“Nothing?” Jane asked.

Even the footman watched Julia in surprise.

“Nothing,” she repeated. She took up her boots, hooded cloak, and thick kid gloves and left. She had pleaded with her father to love her enough to value her happiness. What he had given her was her choice of knickknacks from her bedchamber. No. She wanted none of it.

She paused on the back terrace to switch her slippers for her boots and to pull on the rest of her outwear. Winter had not yet descended, but the air was chilly enough to call for a bit of preparation, especially as she intended to spend a good deal of time out of doors.

Her feet carried her to the Trent. She had many happy memories there. Surely she could find peace on its banks.

The sound of the river running steady and clear allowed her to breathe again for what felt like the first time all day. The symphony of water had formed the backdrop for most of her favorite moments over the years: picnics, games, quiet moments with her family and dearest friends. That these banks had grown empty and, at times, lonely hadn’t entirely negated the calming effect of her beloved river.

She arrived at the flat rock on which she had spent so many hours in her childhood. Her heart was breaking fiercely enough for her tears to cause the Trent to flood its banks. Yet, not a single tear fell. She was too tired to cry, too weary to weep.

The stiff stomacher and moderately wide panniers of her gown did not allow for much comfort when sitting on the ground, but she did so anyway. The rock was cold beneath her, even with her wool cloak offering some insulation.

Julia pulled her hood off, allowing the cool air to tug at her hair and nip at her face. She looked out over the meandering Trent, feeling every bit as broken in spirit as she had when she’d left the house. It seemed there was no longer any tranquility to be had. Even her beloved river was failing her.

“I have found peace in turmoil before,” she whispered. “I can do so again.”

But she didn’t know how this time. She was being forced into a marriage she knew would make her unhappy, and not a soul seemed to care.

Lucas thought of her as a weight and an undesirable option. He felt he would gain nothing by marrying her. Though he had, apparently, accepted their marriage as inevitable, he was clearly unhappy about it. How long after their wedding would he even remain at home? Adventure and Society and...optionswould pull him away.

She heard footsteps approaching, not from the direction of the house but along the river path that led to Lampton Park. Though there was a chance the arrival was Lord or Lady Lampton or, perhaps, Mr. Barrington, she knew it wasn’t. It was Lucas. She hadn’t a single doubt that it was him.

She didn’t look but kept her gaze on the river. A mere moment later, he sat on the rock, not directly beside her but near enough for her to catch sight of him out of the corner of her eye.

“You’ve powdered your hair,” he said.

“I was attempting to claim enough of my father’s good opinion for him to listen to me.” An autumn leaf floated down the river, making the escape she couldn’t. “That was also my motivation for choosing this gown.” She indicated the fabric showing beneath her long cloak.

“Did that prove a good strategy?”

She pulled her cloak more firmly around herself. “No.”

Lucas scooted a little closer to her. “I suspect I know what it was you were speaking to him about.”

“He told me you were part of the discussion to finalize the details of this marriage.” She heard her voice but felt entirely disconnected from her own words. “I asked whyIwas not included in any discussions. He threatened to drag me to the chapel.”

“I am sorry, Julia.”

“He used to listen to me when I had worries or concerns. That’s all changed so suddenly.” Her heart was so heavy, so hopeless. “He might have heeded you if you hadn’t conceded so entirely.”

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