Mr. Hunt, I Presume (Playful Brides, #10.5)(23)

Collin slowly rose to his feet and stepped close as if to touch her again. “Erienne, I—”

The crack of her palm striking his cheek was like a shot from a pistol.

He didn’t so much as flinch, as though he’d known it was coming, the explosion of rage she could no longer contain. “I’m sorry,” he murmured. “I shouldn’t have—”

“That wasn’t for tonight,” she retorted through clenched teeth. “That was for fourteen years ago.”





Chapter Fourteen





Erienne was sitting in the nursery with the children the next morning when Lucy came floating in. She hugged and kissed Mary and Ralph before turning to Erienne. “I do hope you’re not angry with me, dear, for suggesting last night’s dinner.”

“I’m not.” How could she be angry with Lucy? The least of the issues with last night had been Lucy insisting Erienne come to dinner.

“I’m so pleased to hear it,” the duchess continued. “Derek and Collin were up with the sun and went for a ride, but Collin intends to visit the children before noon.”

“Uncle Cawwin is here?” Mary asked, her dark eyebrows rising.

“Yes, darling, your Uncle Collin is here. You’ll get to see him soon.”

Smiling, Mary clapped her hands together.

“He’s only seen Ralph at the christening in London,” Lucy said, leaning over and picking up her son. “No doubt he’ll be shocked to see how big you’ve grown, Ralphie.” She hoisted the child onto her hip.

The toddler stuck his finger in his mouth and gnawed on it.

Lucy turned back to Erienne. “All that to say, you’re welcome to begin your lessons with the children this morning, and then perhaps take them outside for a bit before their visit with Collin. I hate to see them cooped up in the nursery all day, especially when it’s so lovely outside.”

Erienne nodded. “Perhaps we’ll go play by the stream.”

“That sounds like an excellent idea. Be certain to take Anna with you,” Lucy replied.

After Lucy left, Erienne spent the next two hours going over very basic French words with the children. They stopped for play breaks and to eat a snack sent up by Cook. At ten o’clock, Erienne decided Mary and Ralph had enough for children their ages.

“Pick a toy,” she announced. “We’ll go to the stream.”

Mary clapped her hands. “I’ll bwing my dollie.” She ran across the room to collect a rag doll that sat on a shelf, its hair a mess of yellow yarn.

Erienne chose some wooden blocks for Ralph and placed them in a basket along with a blanket. She called for Anna, and with the nursemaid leading, their little group left for the stream. They made their way around the side of the house and across the meadow toward a copse of trees that stood near the stream.

When they arrived at the creek, Erienne and Anna spread the large blanket atop the soft grass along the bank and placed the basket on one corner to moor it. The children plopped on the center of the soft quilt and happily played with their toys before Lady Mary asked if she might go to the creek’s edge to throw a stone. Apparently, her father had taught her how to do so the last time she’d been there.

“I’ll go with you, Mary,” Erienne said. She stood and took the little girl’s hand.

Mary carried her doll firmly under her other arm as they marched toward the edge of the water. Once they arrived, the child cast about for the perfect stone. Erienne leaned down to find a nice, flat smooth one to show Lady Mary how to skip. Erienne turned away for only a moment when a splash stole her breath. Horrified, Erienne quickly swiveled on her heel. Relief flooded her. Thank heavens, Lady Mary hadn’t fallen in. It was her doll.

The little girl pointed into the creek, tears of distress already shining on her cheeks.

Erienne spotted the doll being swiftly carried downstream, and didn’t stop to think. She shucked off her slippers and jumped into the ice-cold water. It was a shock to her body, but all she could think about was fetching the little girl’s doll.

She was a strong swimmer, but the current was stronger than she’d guessed. She stroked her way toward the doll. Fortunately, its gown had snagged on a tree limb that had fallen across the creek, or she never would have caught up to it.

“I’ve got it,” she called, springing from the water and waving the doll toward Lady Mary and the others, who waited on the far bank many yards away.

Erienne plunged under the water again to swim back, but her own skirt caught on the branch. She dove deeper to locate the snag and free herself, but the water was murky and she couldn’t see much. She tried to yank the fabric from the branches, but quickly learned there were many sharp, spiny branches beneath the surface that hadn’t been visible from the shore. Freeing herself wouldn’t be as simple as she’d hoped.

She tried to pop back to the surface to take a breath, but the branches had tangled with more of her skirts and yanked her short. She couldn’t reach the top. Panic began to set in and she desperately ripped at her skirt, trying to tear it with both hands, anything to free herself. The fabric was well-made and didn’t budge. Fighting her increasing terror, she tried to snap the limbs that were entangled in her skirts, but the moment her fingers closed around the nearest one, she realized they were too wide and strong to break.