Apparently she was a governess now, however. He’d half-expected her to be wearing a serviceable gown with an apron like the ones he’d seen Miss Langley sport a time or two. But Erienne stood there looking heartbreakingly beautiful in that gown, and for a moment he thought this meeting, the one where he stood in his dress uniform and she in ice-blue perfection, was as it should have been all along if he’d been able to attend her debut, to court her as he’d always desired.
She was thinner than she used to be. But the same knowing, lovely blue gaze shined from her delicate features. There were slight, dark smudges under her eyes as if she were tired. Diamonds clung to the fragile bones of her neckline and matching diamonds hung from her ears. Her golden hair was up in a chignon and her lips, pink and full, rested in a straight line, neither smiling nor frowning.
But he recognized the apprehension gathered in the lines of her familiar face.
She glanced at him and then away, so quickly he’d barely seen it. He wouldn’t have noticed at all if he hadn’t been watching her so closely.
“Collin.” Lucy came to his side of the table and gave him a hug. “It’s lovely to see you again. It’s been far too long.” She turned to Erienne. “You remember Miss Stone, I believe.”
He cleared his throat, not trusting his voice, but having no choice. “Of course.”
“Erienne.” Lucy turned back to face her. “You recall General Hunt?”
“General?” Erienne’s startled eyes flickered to meet Collin’s, and the words seem to die on her lips before she found them again. “I’d no idea.”
“Yes,” Derek said as he held out Lucy’s chair, leaving Collin to hurry around the table and pull out Erienne’s seat. “Collin is quite a high-ranking official at the Home Office now. Of course the position has come at the expense of his social life.”
They all took their seats. Derek at the head of the table, Lucy at the foot, with Collin to Derek’s left and Erienne to Derek’s right, directly across from Collin. The footmen rushed to place napkins on their laps and fill their wineglasses for the first course.
Erienne kept her eyes trained on her plate, though her chin took on a subtle, stubborn set that Collin instantly recognized. “Yes,” she said primly, “I do seem to recall Mr. Hunt placing emphasis on his position in the army over his own personal interests.”
And off went the warm light of sentimentality he’d foolishly been entertaining. Collin grabbed the half-poured wine glass in front of him and nearly downed its entire contents.
Lucy’s bright eyes glanced back and forth between Collin and Erienne. “Yes, well, Collin’s been forced on holiday. That’s why he’s here at the moment, isn’t that right, Coll?”
“Indeed.” He couldn’t stop glancing at Erienne. Despite her apparent state of pique, she was even more beautiful than she’d been when they were young. More so, even, with the tiny lines near her eyes and the sides of her mouth, borne of too many smiles—and perhaps too many frowns. She looked as if she’d seen pain. He hoped he hadn’t been the cause of it.
“A general and high-ranking officer in the Home Office,” Erienne echoed as the footmen set a bowl of turtle soup in front of each of them. “How ever did you manage that, Mr. Hunt?”
“Years and years of hard work, Miss Stone.”
“And what about yourwife?” Erienne’s polite but pointed query held the edge of a knife. “Is she resigned to the amount of time you spend away from home?”
“I’ve never married,” Collin replied, meeting her gaze. Was it his imagination or did relief glint in her eyes?
“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.
