One single, piercing band of sunlight streamed through the window, hitting Collin in the eye and waking him. He stretched and yawned, and then ... Damn. He was still in Erienne’s bed, and it was morning. He would have to leave immediately and be careful about it. He quickly rolled over to reach for her … and found the space beside him empty and cold.
He pushed himself up and frowned. Where was she? Had she gone to be with the children? It wasn’t that late, was it? He scrubbed a hand over his face, squinting to see the clock on the mantelpiece. It was barely after six. Surely she wasn’t with the children at this hour. Besides, if she’d gone to be with them, why hadn’t she wakened him and asked him to leave?
A piece of paper on the nightstand caught his eye. It was folded. Edging himself up against the headboard, he grabbed the paper and scanned it. A smaller bit of paper floated out to land on the coverlet. He ignored it for the moment.
C,
I had to go. I cannot allow your lovely sister-in-law to do more for me than she already has. I never should have come here in the first place. Last night was beautiful, and I’ll cherish it forever. I hope you will too.
E
He cursed under his breath. Damn. Damn. Damn. She’d gone. But why? He’d thought she wanted him. He’d thought she’d changed her mind.
He picked up the tiny piece of paper on the coverlet. Let me go.
Bloody hell. He clenched his jaw. Apparently, he’d thought wrong.
*
One hour later, Collin was cleaned, dressed, and sitting in the breakfast room with Derek. Of course, he couldn’t let on that he knew Erienne was gone, but it was all he could think about. He hadn’t said more than two words to his brother since they’d begun their meal.
Why had she left? He’d assumed she wanted more than just a night with him. How could he have been so wrong? He was a bloody spy, for Christ’s sake. Trained to pick up on the tiniest fluctuations in people’s voice and mannerisms, their slightest hesitations, their smallest clues. How the hell had he completely misread the situation with Erienne?
But damn it. He already knew. He’d always misread Erienne because the depth of his feelings for her clouded his judgment.
Lucy came bustling into the room. “Miss Stone is gone.” Her voice held a mixture of anger, frustration, and a hint of accusation.
“What?” Derek frowned.
Lucy crossed her arms over her chest. “Erienne left a note under my bedchamber door saying she never should have accepted this position, and that she was awfully sorry but she was heading back to London. Apparently, one of the groomsmen took her to the coaching station early this morning.”
Lucy and Derek both looked at Collin, who continued to shove the eggs around his plate in silence.
“You wouldn’t happen to know anything about why she left, would you, Collin?” Lucy finally asked, her hands on her hips.
“Should I?” he drawled, making eye contact with his sister-in-law.
“I’d be surprised if you didn’t,” she replied, arching a brow.
Collin clenched his jaw and tossed down his fork. “Perhaps Erienne was right. Perhaps she never should have accepted this position in the first place.” He knew his words sounded cruel and callous, but at the moment he didn’t care. He was bloody furious with Erienne for leaving without telling him she intended to go. He’d at least spoken to her in person when he’d given her up all those years ago. They weren’t children any longer. This was serious.
“What did you say to upset her?” Lucy demanded.
“Why do you assume she left because of me?” Collin snapped.
“Enough.” Derek’s voice shot through the room like a crack of thunder. “I think we all can agree this situation was fraught from the start. I’m sorry if any of us caused Miss Stone pain.”
“Too late for that,” Lucy mumbled.
Collin narrowed his eyes. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
She tossed a hand in the air, a gesture of utter impatience. “Erienne is gone, Collin. Aren’t you going to do something about it?”
“Would you like me to review the letters from the other governess applicants?” Collin countered.
Lucy turned on her heel and stalked from the room. “Men!” she called as she went. “You can all be so exasperatingly obtuse!”
Chapter Eighteen
Erienne glanced around the sad little flat that a perfectly pleasant woman named Mrs. Cartwright had just finished showing her. The tour hadn’t taken long—the flat consisted of only one room. It contained a bed with a lumpy-looking mattress and two doubtfully clean pillows. Two rickety chairs and a small, equally rickety table. A tiny kitchen with a stove that looked questionable at best, and a ramshackle wardrobe pushed against the far wall that sat askew, one of its wooden legs missing.
The space was all Erienne could afford with her savings from her position with the Hilltops. She’d sent the rest of her money home for Peter, and she hadn’t stayed with Derek and Lucy long enough to collect wages. After leaving them so suddenly, she didn’t deserve either their money or their reference.
Erienne glanced around the room again. It was a far cry from her gorgeous suite at Huntingdon, and it smelled like a mixture of dust and mold. Tears burned the backs of her eyes, but she blinked them away. “I’ll take it,” she informed Mrs. Cartwright. The woman smiled and nodded.
Erienne handed the older woman the money for one week’s rent, and Mrs. Cartwright handed her the key to her dubious new home.
“I’ll just ask the coachman ta bring up yer trunk then,” the woman said as she headed for the door.
All Erienne could do was nod. “Thank you,” she finally managed.
The door closed behind Mrs. Cartwright, and Erienne wrapped her arms over her middle. She’d felt empty and awful the entire ride back to London, and she wasn’t feeling any better now that she’d secured lodging for the night.
She would miss little Lady Mary and cute little Ralph. Hopefully Anna wasn’t too put out by her leaving so suddenly, or for that matter, Lucy. Lucy had been so kind to her. The duchess fancied herself a matchmaker. She’d done her best to bring Erienne and Collin back together—but sometimes things were better left in the past. It was a difficult lesson, one that Erienne was just beginning to learn.
Leaving had been the right thing to do. At least she’d decided that much on her long, bumpy ride back from the countryside. She was certain she’d made the correct choice. So why did she feel so ... sad? She’d had to leave. Because she knew, without a doubt, that Collin would let her go again. Just as he had the first time, without any attempt to stop her, and ultimately that was why they shouldn’t be together. True love didn’t let go. And Collin had let go. Twice now, by her count.
His work had been more important to him than she was the first time. Perhaps his pride was what would keep him away this time, but it didn’t matter the reason. Whatever his excuse, the result was the same. Collin didn’t love her enough to fight for her, and he never had. It was sad and unfortunate, but it was true.
She hadn’t left to test him. Never that. She’d left because she knew in her bones that she never should have accepted the position as governess in Lucy and Derek’s house in the first place. She’d known it was wrong and she’d taken it regardless, out of greed for the wages she’d been promised, but even more, hoping to catch a glimpse of Collin or at least hear some news.
Now she’d done far more than that.
She’d left for another reason as well. She never in a thousand years wanted Collin to think she’d spent the night with him because she expected more from him than that. There was no better way to make it clear. She hadn’t been attempting to force an offer from him or to appeal to his sense of guilt or duty. She wanted him as a woman wants a man, and she’d been telling the truth when she wrote him the good-bye letter telling him she’d never forget last night. She would cherish the memory forever. It was all she’d have of him for the rest of her life.