The Trouble With Emma by Katie Oliver Page B

was silent.
    ‘Am I?’ he demanded.
    She lifted her face to his. ‘She thinks we’re wrong for each other…that we’re not suited. And I’m inclined to agree.’
    ‘Are you, indeed?’
    ‘I’m fond of you, Jeremy. I am. I thought I loved you. But – I’m sorry, but I don’t. My feelings have changed.’
    ‘You either love someone, Emma, or you don’t.’ His face contorted with anger. ‘A person doesn’t fall in and out of love from one day to the next, like – like changing a shirt.’
    She was silent.
    ‘You never really loved me, did you?’ he asked suddenly.
    Emma reached out for his arm. ‘Jeremy, please. Don’t make this any more difficult –’
    ‘Difficult for whom? For you, or me?’ He shook her hand off his arm. ‘Don’t bother to answer. I can see you’ve already made up your mind. There’s no dissuading you.’
    ‘I’m sorry.’
    He drew in his breath. ‘If this is what you want, Emma, then we’ll call the wedding off. I’m sorry I’m not rich enough, or possessed of a title, or whatever it is you seek that you find so singularly lacking in me.’ He turned towards the library doors, and paused. ‘I’ll tell everyone I changed my mind, not you. I’d rather they think me a heartless bastard than a spurned fool.’
    ‘I’m sorry, Jeremy. Truly.’
    ‘I hope you find someone to make you happy one day, Emma.’ He reached out to grasp the doorknob. ‘But with your exacting standards – standards no man could ever hope to reach – I doubt you ever will.’
    Poor Elton was panting, his little legs tired after such a long walk. Emma reached out to pick him up. “I’m sorry, Mr E. I forgot what a long walk it is to Cleremont.”
    To add to her misery, the sun beat down upon her hat-less head and sent perspiration trickling down her neck. Her eyes welled once again with tears. What a thoughtless, selfish creature she was! To give no thought to anything but her own misery –
    The low growl of an engine caught her notice, growing steadily louder, and she moved nearer the edge of the road with Elton cradled against her chest. Although it wasn’t going particularly fast, she knew from the low-slung silver bonnet and throb of the engine that the car was expensive.
    Therefore, she was surprised when the vehicle – a Lamborghini – slowed, and the driver’s window lowered.
    “Emma!” James Churchill called out. “Fancy a lift?”
    “I’d love one,” she said gratefully, and climbed in as he reached over to fling open the door. “Thanks.”
    He glanced over at Elton. “How’s my favourite little beast today?”
    “Tired,” Emma confessed, and rubbed behind the pug’s ears. “We walked to Cleremont this morning, and I’d forgotten what a very
long
walk it is back home.”
    “At least he didn’t lead you on a mad chase over a wall and into the mud this time.”
    “True. New car?” she asked as she admired the black leather cockpit.
    He nodded. “Always wanted one, so…I decided it was time.”
    “You must be a great success in the City.”
    “Comparatively speaking? Only a moderate success.” He glanced at her, and his smile faded. “Are you all right? Only –” he hesitated. “You look like you’ve been crying.”
    She waved her hand dismissively. “Allergies. They’re the bane of my existence at this time of year.” Which wasn’t, she told herself, exactly a lie.
    Wisely, he said no more. “I’ll turn round up here and drop you back at Litchfield Manor.”
    “I hope I’m not keeping you from anything?”
    “Not a thing. Just giving my new toy a test drive before I head home to start laying tiles in the bathroom.”
    “DIY?” she said, and lifted her brow. “I’m impressed.”
    “Don’t be. You haven’t seen the result yet.”
    “Why don’t you come in?” Emma offered as he turned the car up the drive to the Bennet home a few minutes later. “The least I can do to thank you for bringing me home is offer you a cup of coffee, or