Page 21 of Forget Me Not

Father set a hand on his shoulder. “Do not give up so easily. All will be well.”

That was the rub. At the moment, absolutely nothing was well.

Chapter Eight

“She sees no one, goesnowhere, and prefers that.”

Julia had not managed to rid her mind of Lucas’s words nor the disapproving tone with which he’d spoken them.

“She would be a weight.”

“I have options.”

“Because Julia does not have connections or suitors to choose from, I am required to fill that role.”

“I do not gain by being married to her.”

She’d gone to Lampton Park, sneaking in through the back terrace as she’d so often done as a child, intending to plead with Lucas to help her change their parents’ minds. She’d followed his voice to the door of his father’s library but had stopped short before slipping inside.

A weight. No connections. No suitors. Nothing to be gained by marrying her.

Lucas did not wish to marry her but not because he had been caught unawares or wished to marry for love. He didn’t want to marry her because he knew he could do better than someone he considered so very far beneath him.

It was a blow that still left her reeling some four days later. His words added pain to the hurt she felt from her father’s denunciation.

“Selfish child.”

“Grow up.”

“Think of someone other than yourself.”

He thought her a petulant child, one he likely could not wait to rid himself of. But to give her over to a gentleman who considered her a weight and an inferior was a horrible thing for any father to do to his daughter. If only she could make him see that.

She’d attempted many times in the days since the ball to speak with him, hopeful his frustration had cooled enough to allow for the tenderness she had often depended upon. This was her entire future, after all. The rest of her life. He would listen to her now; he simply had to. The wedding—herwedding—was a mere two days away.

Julia donned the silvery-blue dress her father had more than once complimented. She even allowed Jane to powder her hair. This was quite possibly the most important conversation she would ever have with him. She meant to proceed with as high a chance of success as possible.

She stood for long minutes in the corridor outside of Father’s book room, attempting to simultaneously firm her resolve and calm her nerves. “He loves me,” she silently reassured herself. “He loves me enough to listen to me.”

After one more deep breath, she slipped inside. Father stood near a window, enjoying the view it offered. He loved Farland Meadows. Looking out over the grounds was certain to lift his spirits. He was clad in his favorite red banyan, which meant he was comfortable and at his leisure.

Perhaps fate was finally on her side.

“Father?” Her voice was not as steady as she would have preferred.

He looked to her. “Julia.” He waved her over, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. His silver brows, no matter that the hair on his head remained dark, sat in casual ease rather than pulled sharp with disapproval or censure. This was the version of Father she depended upon. His sharp disapproval the night of the ball had been deeply unsettling. She joined him at the window, assuming her most gentle and pleasant smile. “I have not seen you in several days.”

He nodded, a quiet and unrevealing acceptance of her observation. “Lampton and I have been undertaking important matters.”

She hadn’t the least doubt those “important matters” were related to the very thing she meant to discuss. He was moving forward with it all. Caution was more than called for. Setting his back up again before even beginning their discussion was not at all wise.

“I know you enjoy spending time with Lord Lampton,” she said. “I hope your visits have been as pleasant as usual.”

He motioned her toward the nearby chairs. “Lucas joined us last evening. I must say, I am increasingly impressed with that young gentleman. He has a good head on his shoulders.”

Julia’s heart pounded. She lowered herself onto the chair Father indicated she should take. They were tiptoeing very near her reason for entering his book room. She needed to broach the subject but hadn’t fully steeled her resolve.

Father, to both her relief and concern, introduced the matter on his own. “Is this the dress you mean to wear for the wedding? You do look lovely in it.”

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