She scrambled up from the sofa, righting her skirts and finding herself newly breathless, this time with humiliation. She turned to glare at Collin, though she wasn’t entirely certain he could see her face in the dim glow from the fireplace.
She wasn’t angry with him. She was angry with herself. How in the space of a few short hours had she allowed Collin Hunt to crawl back into her heart and touch her like that, so … so wantonly and … and deliciously? She wanted to sob with self-hatred. She wanted to scream.
Collin slowly rose to his feet and stepped close as if to touch her again. “Erienne, I—”
The crack of her palm striking his cheek was like a shot from a pistol.
He didn’t so much as flinch, as though he’d known it was coming, the explosion of rage she could no longer contain. “I’m sorry,” he murmured. “I shouldn’t have—”
“That wasn’t for tonight,” she retorted through clenched teeth. “That was for fourteen years ago.”
Chapter Fourteen
Erienne was sitting in the nursery with the children the next morning when Lucy came floating in. She hugged and kissed Mary and Ralph before turning to Erienne. “I do hope you’re not angry with me, dear, for suggesting last night’s dinner.”
“I’m not.” How could she be angry with Lucy? The least of the issues with last night had been Lucy insisting Erienne come to dinner.
“I’m so pleased to hear it,” the duchess continued. “Derek and Collin were up with the sun and went for a ride, but Collin intends to visit the children before noon.”
“Uncle Cawwin is here?” Mary asked, her dark eyebrows rising.
“Yes, darling, your Uncle Collin is here. You’ll get to see him soon.”
Smiling, Mary clapped her hands together.
“He’s only seen Ralph at the christening in London,” Lucy said, leaning over and picking up her son. “No doubt he’ll be shocked to see how big you’ve grown, Ralphie.” She hoisted the child onto her hip.
The toddler stuck his finger in his mouth and gnawed on it.
Lucy turned back to Erienne. “All that to say, you’re welcome to begin your lessons with the children this morning, and then perhaps take them outside for a bit before their visit with Collin. I hate to see them cooped up in the nursery all day, especially when it’s so lovely outside.”
Erienne nodded. “Perhaps we’ll go play by the stream.”
“That sounds like an excellent idea. Be certain to take Anna with you,” Lucy replied.
After Lucy left, Erienne spent the next two hours going over very basic French words with the children. They stopped for play breaks and to eat a snack sent up by Cook. At ten o’clock, Erienne decided Mary and Ralph had enough for children their ages.
“Pick a toy,” she announced. “We’ll go to the stream.”
Mary clapped her hands. “I’ll bwing my dollie.” She ran across the room to collect a rag doll that sat on a shelf, its hair a mess of yellow yarn.
Erienne chose some wooden blocks for Ralph and placed them in a basket along with a blanket. She called for Anna, and with the nursemaid leading, their little group left for the stream. They made their way around the side of the house and across the meadow toward a copse of trees that stood near the stream.
When they arrived at the creek, Erienne and Anna spread the large blanket atop the soft grass along the bank and placed the basket on one corner to moor it. The children plopped on the center of the soft quilt and happily played with their toys before Lady Mary asked if she might go to the creek’s edge to throw a stone. Apparently, her father had taught her how to do so the last time she’d been there.
“I’ll go with you, Mary,” Erienne said. She stood and took the little girl’s hand.
Mary carried her doll firmly under her other arm as they marched toward the edge of the water. Once they arrived, the child cast about for the perfect stone. Erienne leaned down to find a nice, flat smooth one to show Lady Mary how to skip. Erienne turned away for only a moment when a splash stole her breath. Horrified, Erienne quickly swiveled on her heel. Relief flooded her. Thank heavens, Lady Mary hadn’t fallen in. It was her doll.
The little girl pointed into the creek, tears of distress already shining on her cheeks.
Erienne spotted the doll being swiftly carried downstream, and didn’t stop to think. She shucked off her slippers and jumped into the ice-cold water. It was a shock to her body, but all she could think about was fetching the little girl’s doll.
She was a strong swimmer, but the current was stronger than she’d guessed. She stroked her way toward the doll. Fortunately, its gown had snagged on a tree limb that had fallen across the creek, or she never would have caught up to it.
“I’ve got it,” she called, springing from the water and waving the doll toward Lady Mary and the others, who waited on the far bank many yards away.
Erienne plunged under the water again to swim back, but her own skirt caught on the branch. She dove deeper to locate the snag and free herself, but the water was murky and she couldn’t see much. She tried to yank the fabric from the branches, but quickly learned there were many sharp, spiny branches beneath the surface that hadn’t been visible from the shore. Freeing herself wouldn’t be as simple as she’d hoped.
She tried to pop back to the surface to take a breath, but the branches had tangled with more of her skirts and yanked her short. She couldn’t reach the top. Panic began to set in and she desperately ripped at her skirt, trying to tear it with both hands, anything to free herself. The fabric was well-made and didn’t budge. Fighting her increasing terror, she tried to snap the limbs that were entangled in her skirts, but the moment her fingers closed around the nearest one, she realized they were too wide and strong to break.
Good God, she couldn’t possibly die this way, drowning in a creek that couldn’t be more than seven feet deep. Why she’d swum all her life! She and Peter had raced each other back to the shore from far out in the ocean, for heaven’s sake. She was no more afraid of water than eating.
But it was no use. She couldn’t free herself, and her lungs felt near to bursting from the effort to hold her breath. Frantic, she tried to divest herself of her gown. She’d got the thing nearly off her hips when she felt something large dive into the water next to her.
Strong hands encircled her waist and tugged her hard. Those same hands ripped at her gown, savagely tearing it away from the tree limbs. And then Erienne was free. She popped back to the surface and dragged heavy gulps of air into her starving lungs.
But the effort had tired her, and when she collapsed, it was straight into the arms of none other than Collin Hunt, who had surfaced beside her.
Without saying a word, he hooked his arm under hers and swam swiftly back toward the shore, dragging her with him.
When they made it to the shallow part where they could stand, he gathered her in his arms and carried her onto the bank, where the others had gathered in a frightened little group. She was soaking wet, shivering, clad only in her shift from the waist up.
“What were you thinking?” Collin’s voice was laced with anger and fear as he set her none-too-gently on her feet. “You could have been killed.”
Before Erienne had a chance to respond, Anna cleared her throat. “I’ll just…take the children back to the house to allow you time to recover, Miss Stone.”
“Wait,” Collin called. He reached behind him and pulled Mary’s doll from where it had apparently been tucked in the waist of his breeches. He held out the doll to the little girl who ran over to grab it with both hands.
“Thank you vewy much, Uncle Collin,” Lady Mary said, with a huge smile on her face, before hurrying back to Anna’s side.
The nursemaid promptly took both children’s hands, turned, and marched doggedly toward the house without looking back.