“It’s time,” she said breathlessly. “Time to tell my parents we intend to marry.”
He gathered her anew in his arms and kissed her once more. She hadn’t known it at the time, but it was to be their last kiss. God, if only she’d known. If only she’d been older, wiser, she would have handled the entire thing differently.
“I love you, Erienne,” he’d breathed. “I’ll always love you.”
“I love you too, Collin.” Her brow furrowed as she stared at him. The way he’d spoken sounded strange, off.
He hung his head. “But we cannot marry.”
“What?” The word came out of her throat in a whisper. She was certain she hadn’t heard him correctly. She couldn’t possibly have.
“We cannot marry, Erienne.”
She searched his face. Surely he was only teasing her. “What? Why not?”
“It wouldn’t be fair to you.”
“Collin …” She clasped a hand to her breast, struggling for air as if she were drowning. “What are you saying? You love me, don’t you?”
“I’ll love you forever, Air.” He traced the line of her cheek with one finger in that old, familiar way of his.
She swallowed hard. “Then why are you saying this? Why can’t we be together?”
“My life … in the army. It’s difficult, and I won’t be home much. I’m soon to be shipped off to the Continent. I will be in danger.”
She shook her head impatiently. “I know all of this, Collin. You’ve told me. I don’t care.”
“But you will care, Air. You will care eventually. You deserve someone who will love you and be with you, treat you like a princess. You deserve one of those suitors who has money and … a title.” His throat worked.
Tears stung her eyes like needles. She fought against them, clenching her jaw. “You know I don’t care about titles.”
“You deserve the best,” he said low, turning away to push his hands through his hair in a gesture of firm but melancholy resolution. “That’s not me.”
Tears flowed freely down her face. Itwashim. It was. Why did he refuse to believe that? She shook her head. “Don’t do this.”
“I should go.” His voice was flat, hard. He turned back to her abruptly, grabbed her hand, and pressed a small slip of paper into it. And then, just like that, he was gone.
She hung her head, hot tears squeezing through her lashes, and waited until she could no longer hear his bootsteps crunching through the twigs. Only then did she open her palm and flip over the tiny slip of paper.
Three words. Each one ripped through her heart anew.
Let me go.
Chapter Eleven
Collin couldn’t recall the last time he’d been nervous. Bloody hell, a seasoned spy didn’t succumb to nerves. Ever. But as he sat next to Derek in his brother’s dining room, waiting for Lucy and Erienne to join them for dinner, he felt as unsettled as he had when he was a young man, the day he’d first kissed Erienne by the sycamore tree.
Erienne. He couldn’t believe he was about to see her again after all these years. The day he’d told her he couldn’t marry her had been the most excruciating of his entire life. But he’d known then—just as he knew now—it was the right thing to do. The best thing. Perhaps not for him, but certainly for her. He loved her enough to let her go. He always had.
In the months leading up to her debut, she’d written to him all about the fancy gowns her mother had bought her for her debutante ball to be held in London. Clearly, Erienne was meant for that life. Her father was a baron, and she was gorgeous and perfect. She shouldn’t waste herself on the likes of him, the boy from the bad family in town. It had been selfish of him to love her. He had to let her go.
He’d begun writing her less often, trying to wean himself from the joy of her regular correspondence, although he knew it would nearly kill him to stop receiving her letters. Those letters had been the only things to get him through some very dark days. He’d worked his arse off, doing his best to rise through the ranks as quickly as possible to be worthy of Erienne, to be someone her parents could accept, someone she could be proud of. But that summer, after her debut, he’d received a letter from Erienne’s father, dashing all of his hopes.
Baron Stone had begun the letter cordially enough. He asked after Collin’s health and indicated he’d heard Collin was doing quite well for himself in the army. But quickly, the baron made the purpose of the letter quite clear.
It seems Erienne has a schoolgirl infatuation with you. I think we would both agree that she should be with someone of her status. Quite simply, she has received multiple offers of marriage and refused them all because of you, Lieutenant Hunt. This is to her detriment. Her mother and I ask that you desist in your correspondence with her in order to allow her the space she needs to find a suitable husband.
The wordsuitablehad sliced like a dagger through Collin’s heart. Of course he wasn’t suitable, and no matter how high he rose in the army, he never would be. To the Stones, he would always be the Hunt boy from the tiny, ramshackle cottage on the far side of town.
