“Collin was a spy in the wars,” Derek added in an obvious attempt to change the subject.
The briefest flash of concern passed over Erienne’s face before she seemed to school her features. “I did not know that. In fact, I haven’t heard any details of Mr. Hunt’s life since we last saw each other in Brighton. What’s it been? Fourteen years now?” She took a deep sip from her wine glass.
Fourteen years, one month, and sixteen days, Collin thought, but who was counting? “Something like that.” He lifted his spoon. “Speaking of work,” he continued, “I was surprised to hear that you’ve been employed as a governess, Miss Stone.”
“Yes, I left for Baron Hilltop’s house the summer after I turned eighteen,” she replied sweetly, as if they both didn’t know precisely what that summer had meant to them. “I’ve been there since.”
Collin frowned, his soup spoon paused halfway to his lips. “What about the viscount?”
“The viscount?” Erienne’s brows lowered. “I never worked for a viscount, only Baron Hilltop.”
Collin ate his soup in silence for a few moments, allowing that news to settle in. She’d been in Shropsbury working as a governess all this time? Never married to a viscount? Why, that would mean ...
Her mother lied. Of course her awful mother had lied! And he, the young fool that he’d been, had believed her. But why had Erienne not married? Why had she taken a position as a governess instead of accepting one of the offers from the many gentlemen who’d courted her that year?
Collin stared unseeing into his soup bowl and swallowed the hard lump that had formed in his throat. He had a terrible feeling he knew precisely why.
Chapter Thirteen
Erienne could barely breathe. Being this close to Collin again, even after all these years, was too much. She wasn’t over it. She wasn’t over him. She never had been. And what in heaven’s name had he meant, asking her about a viscount?
Lucy might think this little dinner party was a good idea, but Erienne now realized it was anything but. She had to get away. She glanced over at Collin again. She’d been trying to eye him surreptitiously when she thought he wasn’t looking, but he kept catching her. It hurt to look at him, but she couldn’t stop herself. The years had been nothing but kind to him. He was even more handsome than he’d been in his youth, his cheekbones more pronounced, his green eyes even more thoughtful and wise, and he had an air of confidence and authority about him that hadn’t been there when they were younger.
The man was a general now, and a high-ranking official in the Home Office. She wasn’t surprised, not truly. Just as she hadn’t been surprised to learn Derek had become a war-hero duke. But Collin wasn’t in the papers the way his brother had been. His exploits hadn’t been famous for good reason. He’d been a spy.
She shuddered to think about how much danger he’d probably been in over the years. No doubt he’d been in mortal peril a time or two. He’d been promoted to the rank of general, and from the look of the large number of medals on his red woolen jacket, he was quite someone. She didn’t know a great deal about the Home Office, but being an official there had to mean he was both valued and powerful.
“What are your plans while you’re here, Collin?” Lucy asked, clearly attempting to keep the conversation afloat.
“My orders are to relax,” Collin replied with the ghost of a laugh. “I’m not certain that is possible.”
“You should go fishing.” Lucy signaled one of the footmen to refill Collin’s wine glass. “The creek is full of fish this time of year.”
Collin inclined his head. “I might.” He glanced at Erienne. “I would also like very much to see the children.”
Erienne froze. Of course he would want to see the children. She tried not picture him filling the nursery space with his wide shoulders and appealing presence.
“Go up and see them in the morning, first thing,” Lucy said cheerfully. “They’ll be thrilled. We haven’t yet told them you’ve come. We wanted it to be a surprise.”
“I’ll do that,” Collin replied. “If that’s all right with you, Miss Stone.”
Erienne forced a smile to her lips. “Of course,” she murmured, but she couldn’t play this particular game any longer. She had to get away from this table. This dinner. She couldn’t pretend they were all simply old friends, catching up.
She stood and tossed her napkin to her chair. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ll just go check on the children now. Thank you for a lovely dinner, your grace.”
She hurried from the room before any of them could make noises to the contrary. In her wake, she heard the screech of chair legs as the men stood, and no doubt that utterance of dismay was Lucy, whose matchmaking plans had been laid to waste.
Erienne breathed a sigh of relief when she reached the corridor. Her excuse had been a thinly veiled reason to flee, and the rest of the table knew it, too, but she didn’t care. She couldn’t sit across the table from Collin one more moment and listen to stories about how successful he’d become in a career that he’d chosen over her.
She hurried up the stairs to the children’s nursery. Anna was there, putting away some of the toys the children had used earlier. “They’re in bed, Miss,” she said to Erienne’s questioning look.
“Thank you, Anna, for watching them while I was at dinner.” She hung her head and left the room. The children didn’t even need her. What should she do with herself? She wandered back to her own room and opened the door. The bed had been turned down and candles were lit on either side of its curtained expanse. A soft glow came from both the sitting room and the dressing room.
She made her way to the dressing room and glanced around the space. Her trunk had been unpacked earlier by a maid named Millie, who Lucy had introduced as the one Erienne should ask for anything she needed. Her serviceable gowns, far different from the one she wore at the moment, hung in the wardrobe. Her three little reticules had been lined up on a shelf beneath the gowns.
She bent and picked up the little bag she used the least, pulled the string apart to loosen it, and fished her fingers inside until she located the tiny piece of paper with the smudged ink. She pulled it out and stared at it, a humorless smile touching her lips as she rubbed her finger across the too-familiar words.
Let me go.
The words Collin had written to her fourteen years ago. She’d kept the note all this time. She only looked at it at moments like these, when memories of him overwhelmed her. She’d been able to let the man go, but she’d kept the scrap of paper. How was that for irony?
Tears sprang to Erienne’s eyes, but she quickly blinked them away. She refused to cry—hadn’t cried since that summer, fourteen years ago. She’d arranged to take the position at the Hilltops’ without her mother knowing and had left her parents a note. Her mother had written her soon after, begging her to come back and choose from her suitors. Erienne needed to marry someone wealthy, her mother claimed, because her father’s business dealings had soured of late and while their name was reputable, their fortune was quickly dwindling. But Erienne couldn’t do it. She couldn’t pledge herself to a man she didn’t love, even after the one she did love had asked her to let him go.
Years later, when her brother had returned from war grievously injured, she promised to send home as much of her wages as she could spare to help care for Peter. It was her choice to remain a spinster that had caused her family further financial hardship, and she couldn’t bear to allow her beloved sibling to suffer as a result.