Page 55 of Forget Me Not

“Our friend speaks the truth, I am afraid,” Kes said.

“This marriage of yours is proving monstrously complicated.” Digby sighed. “And we have only half the Gents here to sort it out.”

“Without Aldric, I’m not certain we can manage it,” Kes said.

“Not without scuffing my new shoes.” Digby motioned to his high-polished shoes with their silver-and-paste buckles. “I refuse to earn the wrath of my cordwainer, even for you.”

Bless the heavens for Digby. His ridiculousness lightened even the heaviest moments. Lucas could even smile a little.

He turned to Kes. “Do you have a grand plan, Grumpy Uncle?” That was the moniker assigned to Kes, a fitting one.

“I do, in fact,” he said. “A two-fold one.”

They walked side by side away from the wall. It wasn’t too terribly far from Brier Hill but a long enough walk for formulating some kind of strategy.

“I suggest you hand over your Make Julia Your Friend Again campaign to Digby and me. We’ll tell her flattering things about you, try to improve her impression of the gentleman she married.”

“Are you in such bad bread as all that?” Digby asked.

“Yes,” Lucas and Kes answered in unison.

“Well, then.” Digby made a quick adjustment to his curled and powdered hair, not that his always-perfect coiffure ever needed attention. “I will begin thinking of very flattering things to say about you.”

“Lies?” Lucas guessed.

“Naturally.”

He looked back to Kes. “And what willIbe doing while the two of you are weaving your tales?”

“Courting your wife.”

“Courtingher?” Lucas barely managed not to sputter. “Flirting proved humiliatingly ineffective yesterday.”

“Nothing addresses a lack of talent quite like practice.” Digby had taken to making grandiose declarations during their university days. He could still be counted on for the occasional royal edict or two.

“So, our brilliant strategy is the two of you try to convince Julia that she and I should be friends, while I try to win her more tender regard, all the while hoping for a miracle?”

Kes nodded solemnly.

“Gads, man. Have a spot of faith.” Digby tossed him a deeply pained look, one Lucas didn’t believe for a moment. “When have any of the Gents’ plans gone awry?”

Lud, they were in trouble.

“By the by, you two”—Digby motioned vaguely in their direction—“welcome back from the Continent.”

The Gents had such a strong and natural friendship that being in company with each other was easy. They sometimes forgot how long they’d been apart. Lucas hadn’t seen any of the group, other than Kes, in more than a year. The realization startled him.

“It’s good to be back,” Kes said.

Lucas offered his view. “It’ll be good to be back if we can sort out the mess my parents made of my life.”

Digby shook his head, his expression one of regal disapproval. “For a jester, you’re remarkably unfunny.”

The remainder of the walk back to Brier Hill was punctuated by laughter and commentary on people they knew and things they’d written to each other.

“When are you hosting another Gents house party?” Digby asked. “We had some legendary ones here.”

“I’m no longer the only one with an estate. Perhaps one of you should host the next gathering.”

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