Page 2 of The Way We Were

Then Lucy’s gaze returned to Miss Fournier, who had dark brown hair and the classically beautiful profile of a cameo. Lucy wasn’t sure what to say, how to ask…everything she wanted to ask.

She nodded politely to both women, but spoke to her husband. “I came from London as soon as I heard you’d landed, Captain.”

His brow arched, probably at her use of his formal title, but what had he expected? After a year apart, they were greeting each other in front of total strangers—well, strangers to her.

Then he winced, before hiding his true expression behind a dimpled smile. Was he remembering he hadn’t told her that he was coming to Brighton? That he’d lied to her? She wondered what he was thinking, if he was even capable of guilt anymore. It was hard to believe the man she thought she knew would so openly flaunt a mistress, which is what her friends had related to her in scandalized whispers.

“I’m glad you came, Lucy,” he said.

But was he? She simply nodded, and the four of them stood there awkwardly on a public pavement while holiday travelers headed past them toward the Royal Pier.

“We have so much to discuss,” Reggie continued. “May I escort you both to the hotel?”

They were staying at the same hotel? Lucy thought, then tried to stop her runaway conclusions. But she only said, “That would be fine.”

Reggie put out his arm, and she reluctantly put her hand there. He did not do the same for Miss Fournier, who fell into step behind them, her maid beside her.

Lucy tried to remember what it had been like to be seen on Reggie’s arm, her growing excitement that he had felt the same longing as she did. She hadn’t been able to keep her gaze off of him, had basked in the desire that smoldered in his eyes. It seemed like a lifetime ago. She’d known what she wanted then. Now? Confusion, sadness, and anger jockeyed for positions of prominence within her. How she wished for simpler times, for the happy marriage they’d once known. But everything had changed, and they could never go back in time to fix it all.

The Royal Albion Hotel was a few streets away, overlooking the English Channel and the pier. When they arrived, Lucy shaded her eyes from the sun and looked up at the four-storied white building with its large columns. “Are you staying here or at the barracks, Captain?”

“Here,” Reggie said. “I’ll be happy to explain it all to you.”

And Miss Fournier must be staying there, too. Lucy glanced over her shoulder at the woman, who gave her a smile that seemed friendly enough.

They entered beneath the portico and into the elegant lobby, with its wood-paneled walls and profusion of fresh flowers on every table. Reggie escorted Lucy to the main desk.

“Captain Lawton,” said the young desk clerk politely. “What may we do for you?”

“Mr. Bakewell, may I introduce my wife, Mrs. Lawton. I’d like a larger suite of rooms, since she has come down from London to join me.”

It was what Lucy wanted, distance between them, but a part of her was annoyed. Or maybe she was annoyed about everything. It was a better emotion to feel than other more painful ones.

Mr. Bakewell frowned and paged through the ledger spread before him. “We do have one remaining suite with two bedrooms joined by a sitting room. Will that do?”

Reggie looked at Lucy, and she gave a brief nod.

“I can have your things moved while you’re at dinner, Captain,” the clerk continued.

“That would be fine.” Reggie turned to Miss Fournier. “Would you like to join us?”

“Oh no, Captain, I’m far too tired after our walk,” she said, meeting the gaze of her maid, who nodded her agreement. “I’ll have a tray sent to my room. I’m sure you two have much to catch up on after so long apart.” She smiled at Lucy. “Have a good evening, Mrs. Lawton. I look forward to seeing you tomorrow.”

Lucy blinked. She couldn’t decide if Miss Fournier was brazen, confident, or foolish.

When Miss Fournier and her maid had gone, Reggie turned back to Lucy. “Shall we dine?”

When he gestured toward a door at the far end of the lobby, she preceded him into the hotel restaurant. There were windows all along one wall with a view of the sea, and scattered ferns and palms made one feel surrounded by a tropical paradise. Lucy should have enjoyed it, but any sense of calm she’d felt in the last few months had deserted her.

Once at a table, a waiter brought them menus, and Lucy was grateful to have something to focus on rather than Reggie’s intent blue eyes. He didn’t ask her any questions, and she tried to think calming thoughts until they’d ordered their meals.

When their menus had been removed and wine poured, Reggie lifted his glass in a toast. “To being reunited,” he said, smiling.

Conscious of not wanting to create a scene, she touched her glass to his but said nothing. She looked out the window at the sea, a hazy blue with the sun beginning to fall westward. With a sigh, she said, “I don’t know where to begin.”

“I know where. I am so glad to see you and so touched that you came to greet me.”

Lucy could have gaped at him, but instead she spoke through gritted teeth. “Touched that I came to greet you? You didn’t tell me you were here. You lied to me.”