Jess blushed, at a loss for what to say, but before she could say anything at all he continued, far more seriously, ‘I was distracted.’ He placed his hand on her arm and turned her to look at him.
The harried expression she had glimpsed when he had opened the door for her was back and she looked at him with alarm.
‘Distracted?’
‘You arriving on a bike...the snow...the fact that you could have had an accident, cycling like a maniac in weather like this.’
‘I wasn’t cycling like a maniac!’
‘William’s mystery guest...’
‘What about her? Him? Who is it?’
‘I don’t think you’re going to like who will be joining us for dinner.’
‘You’re scaring me. Why won’t—?’
At which point a beaming William emerged into the hall, and behind him was a short, rotund man with a goatee beard. One of William’s friends. Probably a professor from the university. He kept in touch with a handful and was wont to display his culinary expertise for them every so often.
Why is this a cause for concern?That was the thought that sprang to mind as she moved forward, smiling.
‘Jess!’ William’s beam got brighter as he approached her with his hands outstretched, dapper in a pair of navy trousers, a formal long-sleeved shirt and a snazzy royal blue bow tie. ‘You look delightful. That colour suits you, my dear.’
‘Grey?’ She laughed out loud. ‘Thank you, William. I’ll bear that in mind when I next go clothes-shopping.’
Behind her, Curtis’s presence made the hairs on her neck stand on end. She was uber conscious of his presence and uber conscious of her own weakness whenever he was around.
‘Don’t believe you’ve met my friend, have you?’
Jess peered past him to the chap behind, who was of similar age to William and also looking rather delighted. She sensed that news of her pregnancy might have been imparted. Was that what Curtis had been worried about? It was certainly a worry he would have to get used to because there was no way her pregnancy was going to remain a secret for very long and definitely not in William’s circle of friends.
‘No...’
‘Allow me to introduce Raymond! Raymond Dale. He’s the local vicar and—exciting news—he’s agreed to marry you!’
‘What...? Sorry...?’
‘Don’t stand around there in the hall, you two. It’s cold out here! Come through to the sitting room. I’ve prepared some delightful morsels.’
For Jess, where the past few weeks had whipped by with the speed of sound, time now seemed to stand completely still.
The evening progressed in a haze of appalled confusion as they were ushered by a benevolent William into the sitting room, where drinks were being served.
Raymond was as charming as they came and after fifteen minutes he settled into a jovial but thoughtful line of questioning about what they expected from marriage.
Jess suspected that this had been well planned in advance by William who, at this point, removed himself from proceedings to ‘see about supper’—which was going to be a surprise, he told her, but she must rest assured some of her favourite things would be served, including homemade tiramisu for pudding.
‘Sit, sit...’ William encouraged, before his opportune departure from the room. He then proceeded to usher her and Curtis into the small two-seater sofa by the fireplace, allowing his friend to angle his chair so that he was facing them both.
She felt the press of Curtis’s thigh against hers, a distraction she could do without.
Even more distracting was when he took her hand in his, without looking at her, so that he could link fingers with her.
With no room to shuffle out of reach, she pinned a glazed smile to her face and let her hand go limp, even though the racing of her pulse was quite enough to remind her of the devastating effect that small gesture was having on her nervous system.
What on earth was he playing at? she wondered.
Of course, he might not want to alert the local vicar and his godfather’s friend that their relationship was not what it appeared to be, but surely he shouldn’t be activelyencouragingthe illusion by holding hands. Wouldn’t it have been more appropriate for him to have taken up a position on another chair? One of the ones in the furthest reaches of the sitting room.
