Mr. Hunt, I Presume (Playful Brides, #10.5)(2)

Derek shook his head and gave his wife a vague grin as if she was perfectly incorrigible. “Because you thought you’d have a better chance of getting a response from him?”

“Precisely,” Lucy said. “And an honest one.”

Derek chuckled. “What did he say?”

“He said there was only ever one woman he’d loved. One woman in Brighton, someone he’d known as a lad.” Lucy squinted into the distance and pressed the letter to her chest. “He told me she married. I assumed she’d broken his heart.”

“Lucy.” A note of warning sounded in Derek’s deep voice. He stopped his pacing near her chair and dipped his head to meet her gaze. “Don’t you dare even think about it.”

“Think about what?” Lucy stuck her nose in the air and blinked at him innocently. Several times.

“You know precisely what you’re thinking about,” Derek replied. “Regardless, it doesn’t matter. I’m certain this cannot be the same young woman I knew in Brighton. Perhaps it’s a niece who’s named after her.”

“Perhaps.” But Lucy was already pulling out a blank sheet of vellum to write back to Mrs. Griggs’s employment office.

Hughes, the butler, entered the room and cleared his throat. “Your grace,” he said to Derek, “you have a visitor. Lord Swifdon has arrived.”

“Ah, yes,” Derek replied. “Show Julian to my study. I’ll be there momentarily.”

The butler bowed and left the room.

“I’m going to visit with Julian now, Lucy,” Derek said firmly as he started for the door. “Please promise me you’re not going to employ a governess for the care of our children because you think she may have known Collin in the past.”

Lucy dipped her quill into the inkpot that sat on the far side of her desk. “I don’t intend to do anything of the sort.”

“Good.” Derek paused at the threshold. “I’ll help you look at the rest of the letters later.”

“Thank you, darling,” Lucy said, already bent over the vellum, scribbling.

Derek flashed her one last, doubtful look as he strode from the room, and a satisfied smile immediately spread across Lucy’s face in his wake. She had no intention of hiring the woman based on the woman’s past relationship with Collin, but it certainly couldn’t hurt to find out if she was the same young woman in question, could it?

Lucy bent back over her paper and wrote a short missive to Mrs. Griggs, asking the woman to arrange an interview three days hence with one Miss Erienne Stone, formerly of Brighton.





Chapter Two





Collin Hunt crossed his arms over his chest and glared at his commanding officer, Lord Treadway. “You’re forcing me to leave?”

“I’m forcing you to go on holiday. I don’t care what you do for the next fortnight, but you won’t be working.” Treadway reared back in his seat and gave Collin a hard look. “You’ve been at it nonstop without so much as a day off for years now. It’s time you had a break, Hunt.”

Collin smoothed a hand down the front of his woolen uniform. He paced away, then turned to frown at Treadway. “Is it because I snapped at Cooper?”

“Cooper, Martin, and Atwell by my count.” Treadway arched a brow. “Not to mention the incident with Lord Benning last week.”

Collin clenched a fist. “Damn it, Treadway, you know why—”

“He was wrong. I’m well aware of it. I agree with you, but you must admit the way you handled it left something to be desired. You need a break, Hunt. And that is an order.”

“I don’t want a break.” The declaration came out of Collin’s mouth through clenched teeth.

“I don’t care,” came Treadway’s droll reply. “Now leave my office and this building. I don’t want to see you again until after the first of September.”

“As you wish, sir.” Ever the soldier, Collin clicked his heels together, saluted his commanding officer, pivoted sharply, and marched out of the office. He turned right toward his own office instead of left toward the building’s exit.

“Hunt!” came Treadway’s voice from behind his desk, as though the man could see through the walls. He knew Collin too well. “Do not stop at your office and get paperwork. Leave. Now!”

Damn it. Collin turned once again and marched past Treadway’s open door in the opposite direction, refusing to spare the man another glance.

Jamming his hands in the pockets of his coat, Collin left the building and walked toward St. James, where his apartments were located. For once, he strode with his head down, staring at the sidewalk, lost in thought. A bloody fortnight? Without working? He’d never be able to stand it. He’d been serving his majesty in the royal army since he was a lad of sixteen. He’d fought in the wars, rescued prisoners, and foiled plots against the government while working as a spy. Now he was a general assigned to the Home Office. And while the paperwork he was forced to do these days was not nearly as exciting as his time on the Continent, fighting Napoleon’s best, he still felt as if he was making a difference, protecting and defending his country. Something his family had essentially dedicated their lives to. Even Adam used his printing press to further the cause of the military and recruit new soldiers.