Cold Comfort (A New Adventure Begins - Star Elite 5)

Emmeline struggled to know what to say. What could one say in a situation like this? Should she thank him? She couldn’t slap his face. That would be a hypocritical thing to do seeing as she had enjoyed it as much as he had. Besides, he seemed just as nonplussed by the experience as she was, which was as confusing as it was reassuring.

It took Oliver a moment or two to clear the fog out of his brain and realise what had interrupted them. Something had, he was sure of it. If it hadn’t, he knew he would still be kissing her right now. When he opened his mouth to speak, the pert reminder of what he had forgotten interrupted him. Silently, they both turned to look at the door.

“Are you expecting company?” Oliver murmured quietly.

His gaze flew to the window, but it was impossible to see a

nybody from where he was standing. When he didn’t get an answer, he looked at Emmeline. She looked stunned, and thoroughly ravaged. Whoever the latest arrival was would know exactly what they had been doing if they took one look at her, which they probably already had if the path to the back door led past the kitchen window.

“Good God, Emmeline,” he whispered.

Emmeline jerked. Still lost in thought, her gaze slid to the back door. The persistent nature of the almost frantic knocks told her exactly who had just arrived, and it made her mentally groan in dismay. Sucking in a huge, fortifying breath, Emmeline hurried past him to the back door.

“It is my neighbour, Mrs Wattling,” she whispered.

“Don’t-” but Oliver was far too late. Emmeline had already yanked the door open.

While Emmeline greeted the woman on the doorstep, Oliver looked furtively around the room in search of a place to hide, but he was too big to fit into the nooks and crannies, and the room was too small for there to be many hiding places. Consequently, he was left to stand in the centre of the room and try to think of a suitable excuse for being there.

“Mrs Wattling, what a surprise. I thought you were going into town today?” Emmeline began as casually as she could manage. She tried to keep her face impassive but there was nothing she could do about the fine trembling in her limbs, or slight squeak to her voice. To try to hide them, she clung on to the door knob and willed herself to keep smiling. A good smile hid a multitude of sins. Emmeline hoped so in any case because Mrs Wattling’s gaze was particularly intent as she practically forced a way into the house.

“Come on in,” Emmeline murmured smoothly even though Mrs Wattling was already inside, peering nosily at the man in the kitchen. She quietly closed the door but took far longer than was necessary. Eventually, she was forced to reluctantly face her two unexpected guests.

“Oh, I didn’t realise you had company, my dear,” Mrs Wattling said with an air of someone who knew very well that Emmeline had a male visitor this morning arrive at least half an hour or so ago now, and he hadn’t re-emerged.

“Oh? I thought you could see everything from your sitting room window,” Emmeline replied pointedly. She lifted a brow when Mrs Wattling frowned ever so briefly at her only for her curiosity about Oliver to distract her.

“Good morning, Mrs Wattling,” Oliver murmured smoothly with a courteous bow.

“I-I am sorry, I don’t believe we have met,” Mrs Wattling began somewhat hesitantly.

“We haven’t,” Oliver replied simply.

Mrs Wattling looked at him expectantly for several minutes, clearly waiting for him to explain who he was and why he was there. Oliver didn’t.

“Are you quite all right, my dear?” The curious neighbour eventually asked as she looked over her shoulder at Emmeline.

Emmeline jerked when she realised Mrs Wattling was looking at her. She wracked her brain to try to remember what the woman had just said.

It was something about being all right, I think.

Emmeline nodded, wishing she had the ability to forget what she had just shared with Oliver as swiftly as he apparently had. Looking at him now he was the epitome of smooth, sophisticated gentleman who was perfectly at ease with the world around him. He appeared completely unaffected by the rampant passion she had just enjoyed.

Had he not felt the same?

It was a sobering thought.

“How may I help you, Mrs Wattling?” Emmeline asked, frantically wondering how she could get rid of the pair of them so she could contemplate what had just happened. She moved into the room to stand before the wash unit and lifted her brows at the neighbour who was openly sizing Oliver up, from the very top of his head to the tips of his boots.

Oliver shifted from one foot to the other. He had never been so thoroughly examined before. He wondered briefly if she was going to ask to have a look at his teeth. It was starting to become embarrassing but gave him a very brief yet clear insight into how horses felt at the horse market.

“Mrs Wattling, it is a pleasure to meet you. Please forgive Emmeline. My name is Mr Constantine,” Oliver lied. He had no intention of telling this nosy harridan anything like his real name. Given the way her gaze kept moving from him to Emmeline and back again, she was far too curious as it was. The last thing he needed was to give her pertinent facts. He suspected it would be all around the village within the hour.

“Oh? I don’t believe you have ever mentioned him,” Mrs Wattling chided Emmeline. “Why, I am sure Emmeline has never told me of an acquaintance with a man like yourself.”

“Like myself? What, prey tell, do you mean?” Oliver asked, lifting his brows askance at the older woman.

“Oh, well, she just never gets any visitors, you see? It is just a little odd for a man like you to turn up, that’s all. Of course, when I saw your horse outside the front gate, I began to wonder if everything was all right, so I thought I would just pop over and find out for myself.” Mrs Wattling, a little unnerved by Oliver’s careful study of her, promptly turned to Emmeline with a somewhat desperate look in her eye.