Erienne took a deep breath. Clearly the woman was interested in her past. Very well. Perhaps it stood to reason. Someone as grand as the duchess wouldn’t want to find out later that the governess she’d employed to raise her children had some sort of sordid history.
“I have not,” she replied quietly.I came close once. And I desperately wanted to. She shook her head. Where hadthosethoughts come from? She hadn’t entertained them in years. Being around someone who no doubt knew Collin had possibly served to dredge up bad memories.
Suddenly, a wild impulse to bolt for the door seized her. She glanced in its direction and forced herself to swallow another sip from her cup. She shouldn’t have come here. She needed to get this over with as quickly as possible, thank the duchess for her valuable time, and leave. There had to be a more suitable, less imposing position with a nice viscount or someone else available. She would ask Mrs. Griggs to send her on a more reasonable interview next time.
“Hmm. But you are from Brighton originally, are you not?” the duchess continued.
This was excruciating. “I was born there. Yes.” Erienne concentrated on taking tiny, ladylike sips of tea, one after the other.
The duchess narrowed her eyes on Erienne. “Do you know my husband? He was merely Derek Hunt when he lived in Brighton, of course.”
Erienne’s teacup instantly commenced a noisy rattle in its saucer, and she quickly set it on the little table and folded her trembling hands in her lap. How should she reply? Was it a coincidence that the duchess was asking whether she’d known Derek in Brighton? Derek couldn’t possibly have seen her name and rememberedher, could he? Blast Mrs. Griggs for even mentioning her relationship to Brighton. Regardless, Erienne had no intention of lying to the pretty duchess. What would be the point?
“I do remember Derek Hunt.” She glanced away, out the window. “And his brothers.” She swallowed hard. That admission had been more difficult than she’d expected.
“Collin?” the duchess added, her voice almost breathless. “You remember Collin, don’t you?” When Erienne looked at her again, the woman’s eyes searched Erienne’s face intently, with what she could only describe as … hope?
This was worse than excruciating. It was torturous. Erienne took a deep breath and pressed a hand against her middle, which was lurching in consternation. Hopefully she could make it to the street corner before casting up her accounts. It had been a hideous idea to come here.
“Your grace, I’m not entirely certain I would be the best person for this position.” She tried to stand, but the duchess reached out, placed a hand on Erienne’s arm, and softly squeezed. “No, please stay. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, Miss Stone.”
Her heart thumping in her chest, Erienne forced herself to sit again. She bit the inside of her cheek and prayed for the dignity to remain calm. How had the Duchess of Claringdon heard of her? How had the grand lady learned of her past with Collin? None of it made any sense. Surely she was in a dream and would wake any moment, back at her small bedchamber at Baron Hilltop’s estate, the birds chirping in the tree outside her window.
The duchess set her teacup aside and pulled a sheet of vellum from the table in front of her. She eyed it up and down and then turned back to Erienne. “You come highly recommended. According to Mrs. Griggs, your previous employment was with a boy and a girl in Shropsbury.”
Erienne expelled a sigh of relief. She could breathe again now that the interview was more customary. “Yes, Timothy and Evelyn. They were lovely children. I adored them.”
“I have a boy and a girl myself,” the duchess said. “Mary can be a handful at times. But I daresay even at barely two years old, Ralph is nearly as charming as his father.”
Erienne smiled at that. “Mary and Ralph. Those are lovely names.”
A smile lit the duchess’s unusually colored eyes. “Yes, we named them after my beloved aunt, and my brother who died in childhood.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Erienne replied, glancing down at her slippers. She knew what it was like to grieve for a sibling. Peter might still be alive, but his injuries had taken his speech and movement.
“Do you have any brothers or sisters, Miss Stone?”
Erienne lifted her head again to meet the duchess’s watchful gaze. “I have one brother. He was gravely injured in the war.”
“Oh no. I’m quite sorry,” the duchess replied, her voice softening. “So many fine men were hurt or killed in the wars. Derek knew so many of them.”
Erienne nodded solemnly. She picked up her teacup again and dared to take a sip. She should keep the conversation on topic. The duchess didn’t want to hear about Peter’s war injuries. “I’ve never worked in so fine a household as this, your grace. I’m not entirely certain I’d be qualified to—”
“That doesn’t matter to me in the least,” the duchess replied. “I quite liked what you said in your letter about being kind but also strict. Mary needs that.”
Erienne nodded. “Yes, well, I’m certain you’ve received many, many letters from far more qualified ladies than me.”
“The stack of letters was nearly a foot high,” the duchess admitted with a half-smile.
The teacup nearly toppled out of Erienne’s hand. “Are you quite serious?”
“Entirely.” The duchess sighed. “I still haven’t gone through all of them.”
Erienne settled her shoulders. “I hope this doesn’t seem ill-mannered of me, your grace, but why in heaven’s name did you pickmeto interview if you have that many applicants for the position?”
The duchess pushed a dark curl behind one ear and took another sip of her heavily sugared tea, failing utterly to hide her sly smile behind the dainty cup. “Because you, Miss Stone, were the only applicant who my brother-in-law apparently used to be in love with.”
Chapter Four
