by Rebecca King
Suddenly, a faint tendril of an idea filtered through the back of his mind. He immediately quashed it and dismissed it as stupid nonsense. He wasn’t so bloody foolish that he was willing to mix business with pleasure, no matter how much he needed her assistance. But Oliver still had to question whether a little gentle persuasion might be in order. Even while he willed himself to stop being every kind of fool in Christendom, his gaze fell to her lips.
“Fine. I can see you are not for persuading,” he began somewhat loudly. “I shall leave you to enjoy the rest of your day. Thank you for your time.”
“Is that it?” Emmeline asked as Oliver turned around and began to make his way to the door.
For a moment, she had wondered if he – well – she promptly closed that thought out. Suddenly, she felt as if she had been dismissed, and didn’t like the feeling one jot. With a frown, she cautiously sauntered after him but, by the time she reached the doorway that led to the hall, it was to find him already at the front door.
“What else do you want? You are not prepared to help me, so I shall have to go it alone and hope nobody else gets kidnapped before I can catch the blackguards responsible. I am sure the next victim will understand the loss of their freedom so you can have yours,” Oliver replied crisply.
Emmeline’s mouth fell open, but she immediately felt awful for the stark reality of the situation he had just revealed; a situation she knew all too well was most probably grounded in fact.
“You have no idea what it was like,” she began somewhat coldly.
Oliver froze in the process of opening the door. The swift change of tone was enough to make him turn to face her with a frown of concern. “What?”
“Seeing the kind of life my sister inhabited. I never want to go anywhere near the life or people my sister was connected to. The poor house would be a better option than Caroline’s life. I am not going to lure these people out of their everyday lives. I won’t do it, and if that means I am selfish then so be it, but I live around these parts, don’t forget. As soon as women started being kidnapped, people took precautions. No young woman goes about her business unchaperoned now. Ever.”
“Who chaperones you then?” Oliver demanded.
“My neighbour, Mrs Brigman,” Emmeline replied swiftly.
So swiftly, in fact, that Oliver didn’t doubt it.
“I have already told you that we will do everything necessary to keep you safe while you do this. I don’t expect you to do anything untoward like challenge these people directly. I don’t expect you to adopt Caroline’s lifestyle, for God’s sake. I – we – just need you to go shopping in town looking as you do – like her. We will just make sure it is timed so that the people we believe are responsible for the kidnappings are likely to see you,” Oliver reasoned.
There was such abject misery on Emmeline’s face that he fell quiet because he realised then just how much pressure he had put her under. He had to stop and chastise himself that he really was being too harsh on the innocent young miss whose life had already faced so much emotional turmoil today. However, he hadn’t expected her to be so stubbornly determined to drive him out of his mind with frustration. It irked him more than he cared to admit that the frustration was driven by more personal reasons than professional.
“Will you do it? Will you help us?” Oliver whispered. When Emmeline didn’t answer, Oliver crossed the narrow hallway to stand before her.
Emmeline struggled to contain the urge to say ‘yes’, especially when he looked at her with such raw appeal.
“I cannot. I am sorry,” Emmeline whispered, her voice laden with the misery she felt.
Oliver puffed out a breath. For a moment, he truly began to believe he had managed to persuade her to agree. Frustrated now more than ever, he tipped her chin up until their eyes met. Whatever he had intended to say next flew out of his mind. All he could do was stare at her and will her to listen and trust him. He wanted her to understand what drove him, to agree to his request and allow him to live in peace as well, but he suspected his life would be far from peaceful now. He suspected Emmeline Elkins was not a woman he was likely to forget anytime soon. She was going to drive him out of his mind with worry whether she helped him or not.
Damn, knowing how she looks, I cannot just leave and hope that she doesn’t get snatched.
Oliver knew that if Smidgley was aware she was alive then Emmeline would invariably be the next to get taken. It was an horrific thought.
“Damn. Now what?” He whispered, more to himself than to her.
“I have no idea,” she whispered back, completely oblivious to his thoughts.
Before Oliver could contemplate the wisdom of what he was about to do, he swept her into his arms and claimed her lips in a kiss that shocked them both. Even when he touched her, Oliver began to curse himself for being every kind of fool there ever could be. He regretted what he was doing, even when his arms tightened around her. His doubts magnified when he felt her small hands clutch his shirt. While he tried to ignore his instinctive reaction to her untutored response, it was difficult to ignore when he wanted to savour more of her so much. It was annoying that he seemed to have such little self-control over the way she made him feel. He found it damned impossible to stop, even when she made a faint mewling sound that he had never heard any woman make before. When he tried to lift his head to see if she was alarmed and likely to slap him, Oliver soon found any distance he tried to put between disappear instantly when Emmeline followed and resumed their kiss.
Emmeline was stunned. When the immediate shock wore off, though, curiosity overwhelmed her. She had never felt anything like this before because she had never allowed any man this close to her - ever. It was shocking. It was amazing. It was worrying. More importantly than any of that, it was downright confusing. She should be putting as much distance between her and this handsome stranger as it was physically possible to put between them. She should be ordering him out of the house, after she had slapped his face of course. But what she did was none of those things. Her treacherous hands wouldn’t co-operate when she tried to force herself to release him. His arms were wound tightly around her waist, assuring her that she wouldn’t fall if she did manage to get her fingers to release her determined grip on the fine material of his waistcoat.
No single woman should feel like this, should she?
It was difficult to know what to think. Her mind refused to move beyond the wondrous feelings this kiss brought her. It was so shockingly intimate that she was enthralled by it. Her body began to warm from deep in the centre of her core and responded to his closeness in a way she had never truly believed possible, or ever hoped to experience. It was all so very new and strange that she struggled to know what she should do, think or even feel. It was so very addictive that she couldn’t make it stop. She didn’t want it to stop. She didn’t want either one of them to stop and that, she knew, was incredibly dangerous.
CHAPTER FIVE
They sprang apart as if they had just been scalded. For a moment, the stunned silence that settled over them was distinctly uncomfortable, but neither of them broke it. They studied each other, sized each other up, as if unsure what to make of what they had just so willingly shared.
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.
Emmeline had no sympathy for the woman. While she knew Mrs Wattling had a good heart, and was only checking to make sure Emmeline was all right, the woman did have a tendency to gossip – a lot. She would revel in today’s juicy news for several weeks. Emmeline groaned only to jerk in alarm when she realised that she had done so aloud, and had drawn the attention of not only Oliver, but Mrs Wattling as well.
“Emmeline and I have a long-standing acquaintance, don’t we, my dear?” Oliver murmured, his gaze levelling purposefully on Emmeline in such a way that left her rooted to the spot and dutifully nodding.
“Yes, for a long while,” Emmeline mumbled, a little annoyed that she had been forced to lie to her neighbour.
“We are just about to go into town,” Oliver added. “I thought Emmeline might like a nice journey out.”
“Oh, but you cannot do that,” Mrs Wattling gasped hastily. Her startled gaze flew to Emmeline. “You mustn’t, my dear.”
“Why ever not?” Emmeline gasped. Her instinctive objection to having her neighbour even attempt to limit her contact with Oliver was enough to nudge Emmeline’s temper into life. She glared at the older woman and waited.
“Do you mean you haven’t heard?” Mrs Wattling whispered. Her gaze flew somewhat theatrically about the room as if seeking out those attentive ears that shouldn’t be listening.
“What?” Emmeline found herself whispering in response. She tutted and sighed in disgust when she realised what she was doing and glared at Oliver when she saw his lips twitch.
“A body has been found,” Mrs Wattling informed them, her eyes glinting furiously with the magnitude of her news.
This time, Oliver almost groaned.
“I know, Mrs Wattling,” Emmeline replied, looking solemnly at her neighbour. “It was Caroline. Oliver has been asked to come and impart the bad news this morning.”
“Oh, no dear, I wasn’t talking about Caroline. Although, you do have my deepest condolences, of course. I was talking about another one. A young woman one of the magistrate’s men found this morning in the back of the churchyard. Rumour has it she wasn’t there yesterday, so the vicar couldn’t have found her, you see? Anyway, one of the magistrate’s men was passing, the churchyard that is, and noticed her.” Mrs Wattling frowned. “Although, I never did find out what he was doing in the back of the churchyard. Anyways, he has found another body, and there is them that say she was one of the young women who was kidnapped, as well. Now, I am sorry to hear that your Caroline has been killed, my dear. What dreadful news.”
Emmeline struggled to keep up with the gist of Mrs Wattling’s babble because the woman flitted from one description to another and interjected her monologue with her own personal feelings on the matter she was discussing. It was so very confusing to someone who was struggling to absorb the news she had just imparted. Had another body been found aside from Caroline’s that is? Emmeline felt sick.
She looked askance at Oliver only to find him staring thoughtfully at her.
“So, you mustn’t go anywhere alone, my dear. Besides, I am sure you will need some time to yourself to get to grips with your sad news. Oh, please do accept my condolences, won’t you, dear? Of course, if there is anything I can do to help, please just pop round. I don’t mind at all, and I am sure the ladies at the church will be all too pleased to be able to help as well. Of course, they won’t mind my offering their assistance, oh no, they won’t. Now, I must be on my way. Cheerio, my dear.” Mrs Wattling gave Oliver another careful look before she nodded politely and scuttled out of the door.
For the second time that day, Oliver and Emmeline found themselves staring at each other in total silence.
“Do you think that she is another kidnap victim?” she asked quietly.
“I don’t know,” Oliver replied honestly. “I need to go and find out. It isn’t Caroline, we know that much. She was found up on the bluff overlooking the village and is with the coroner now. I need to go and see who the new victim is, just in case she isn’t one of the kidnapped women.”
“Can you do that? I mean, tell who it is – if she is one of the kidnap victims?”
Oliver pursed his lips and nodded. “I wish I didn’t have to identify any of the deceased to be honest. But we can tell who it might be by matching their descriptions to whoever has been reported missing. It is highly unusual for any small village like this to have a serial killer and a kidnapper running loose at the same time. Whoever is killing people is most probably the kidnapper.”
Even discussing someone who had the audacity to snatch a young woman out of her life before killing her was enough to make Emmeline’s knees tremble. To think of those poor women, who had already lost so much, then having their lives taken off them completely was enough to make her feel sick again. A part of her felt incredibly bad for not agreeing to help Oliver like he asked. After all, it would only mean a few hours of her time, and if Oliver was true to his word, he would show her how to prevent herself from becoming one of their victims.
