"Yes."
"I would have thought that was a good thing."
"It is," Julian said, though the answer came more slowly than it should have.
"You do not sound convinced."
"It is unlike her, and I do not want her to be like this simply because she thinks the ladies will not want to be near her if she is herself."
Below them, Lily turned abruptly, doubling back toward Eleanor with something urgent to say. Eleanor bent slightly to listen, her attention given fully, without impatience. Julian watched the exchange more closely than the rest.
"She has always been cautious," he said. "With strangers, with anyone outside the household."
"And now she is not."
"She is not, and it is strange."
Henry leaned lightly against the edge of the desk.
"In her defense, she knows them."
"Briefly."
"That is sometimes enough. She will have decided to trust them quite quickly."
Julian did not respond. Henry’s gaze shifted back to the window. Where Julian was concerned, however, the other gentleman was perfectly content as he watched them all.
"Children do not remain as they are forever. They change."
"Yes. I am well aware of that."
"And yet you sound as though it troubles you."
Julian’s attention remained outside, though his focus had narrowed slightly.
"It does," he said. "The older she is, the more difficult it will be to ensure she makes the right decisions for herself."
"You make it sound like a statistical problem. It is not disorder that will take place, but growth, and one should hope for the most growth possible."
Julian’s gaze followed Lily again as she broke away from the others, only to return a moment later, as though unwilling to remain apart for long.
"She trusts them," he said.
"That does not seem misplaced."
Julian was silent for a moment. He had not doubted it as it pertained to Lily. The issue, for him, was that he could not make himself feel the same way. He wanted to trust his wife and her friends, but he could not.
He could not trust anyone.
"No," he said at last. "It does not."
Henry studied him briefly, then looked back toward the garden.
"She will need more of this," he said. "Not less."
Julian did not answer immediately. Below, Eleanor reached out, brushing something from Lily’s sleeve instinctively. Lily did not pull away. The ease of it held Julian’s attention longer than it should have.
"She has not had many opportunities for this," Henry added. "From what I have heard, at least."