Page 87 of Forget Me Not

“Once the worst of the winter weather has passed,” he said. “We wish to return to London in time for the Season to begin in earnest.”

So they had been included in the details of the plan she had accidentally learned of.

“Do you know how long you will be in Portugal?”

Again, his gaze turned studying. “Has Lucas not told you anything about this?”

She shook her head, trying to keep her expression neutral and unconcerned. “I am curious enough to dig for information where I can.”

“Our Portugal portion will likely be three weeks, give or take a day or two. That, of course, will come after we make our usual circuit of one another’s estates. After Portugal, we will descend on London for the Season.”

Circuit of estates?Lucas hadn’t mentioned that either. And there’d been no discussion of the Season. Was she not meant to be part of that either?

She thought she’d shown herself somewhat adept at social interactions the night before. He’d even mentioned her meeting members of Society. But he’d been planning the Season without her.

And surely, neither he nor the Gents would object to her participating in the gatherings at their various homes. Yet, she’d been left out of that as well.

She breathed through the pain that echoed in her. Somehow, she would regain her equilibrium as she had so many times before, but she needed time to do so. Time, space, silence. She would have none of that until they returned to Brier Hill.

Lucas and Aldric arrived in the entryway mere moments later. Both were dressed for the journey, just as she and Digby were. They must have taken their morning meal on a tray in their rooms rather than in the breakfast room as she had.

“Shall we?” Digby motioned to the front doors. “I’m certain the carriage is packed and ready for us.”

It was, indeed. Julia stood closer to the doors than the gentlemen did and had a clear view.

“The others aren’t down yet,” Aldric pointed out.

“They can take the other carriage. Our Julia and I have been made to wait long enough.” Never let it be said that Digby Layton did not know how to forestall objections through the expert use of an imperious tone and commanding posture.

A lady customarily awaited an offered arm from her husband. Julia couldn’t. Not yet. Composure was not always easy to summon and seize. She would find it as she always did, but she needed a moment to herself in which to reclaim her composure.

She slipped from the castle. A footman scrambled to pull down the carriage step for her and open the door, then he handed her up, and she climbed in, not looking back at her companions. Perhaps she would be granted a brief minute alone inside.

Seated on the far end of the forward-facing bench, she simply breathed. In and out. Slow and deep.I can endure this. I have been overlooked before.

She could hear voices, no doubt the gentlemen. They might very well have been discussing her and her scramble to the carriage. Should they ask, she would give them the same reason she had supplied to Digby earlier: weariness. They could not argue that she hadn’t reason to be tired.

The quiet, dim sanctuary of the carriage was breached before she was prepared. The other three climbed in, Lucas sitting beside her. She didn’t look at him but made an effort not to appear to be ignoring him. She could not endure an interrogation, not when she had so many unanswered questions of her own.

The vehicle lurched into motion.

Lucas leaned a little closer to her. “You did not bid farewell to our hosts. That is an expected nicety, Julia. It would be best to not neglect that in the future.”

She nodded. The growing thickness in her throat wouldn’t allow her to answer vocally.

“Julia?”

She turned a little, settling her gaze on the window. How could she possibly explain the tears welling in her eyes if he saw them? To object now to a journey he had planned without her when he’d been doing that for years, would likely end in a return of the tension and difficulty they’d only recently begun to put behind them. She couldn’t bear it.

He moved closer. She could feel the warmth of him beside her, hear his breath nearby. If only she wore panniers as wide as other ladies’. The side bustles would have kept him at a distance far easier on her heart.

“What is upsetting you? Something clearly is.”

“I’m simply not feeling conversational just now.” Could he tell she was spinning a tale? She felt terribly transparent in that moment. Vulnerable and open and undefended. “I’m tired, I suppose. And last evening was a lot to take in for someone who has never attended such an event. And it was an early morning. And...” Rambling likely wasn’t offering her any additional believability.

Without a word, he slipped his arm behind her back and settled it around her middle, holding her to him in as much of an embrace as the confines of a carriage and the bulk of her dress and coat would allow. His head rested gently against the top of hers. “Whenever you need a hug,” he whispered. “Just as I promised.”

It was both comforting and painful. He’d also promised not to leave without telling her. She no longer knew which of his promises she could believe in.

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