Page 86 of A Fragile Mask
She could not have stopped the smile breaking. “Less so than the first, if you want the truth.”
The sudden brightness in his face rewarded her. Denzell’s arms tightened.
“Verena! Do you mean that?”
“I would not otherwise say it.” Her fingers reached up to his cheek, and he turned his lips to kiss them.
“Verena, I swear to you, you will not regret it.”
She put her fingers over his mouth. “Oh, Denzell, don’t say that. There is only one thing I ask of you. Make me no promises that you cannot keep.”
His arms dropped from about her so that he could catch her hands in his. “You are right to ask it of me, and although I would at this moment give my right arm before I hurt you, I cannot promise that I will never do so. Yet if I did, it could only be with words, and never — never, on my life! — will I lift one finger against you. And on that you may depend, if nothing else.”
Tears pricked at Verena’s eyes, and her voice was husky. “You had no need to promise that. You see, Mama taught me something about love. She said that if Nathaniel had had her heart, he would not have beaten her. I did not believe it — until I watched you flirting last night. Denzell, I wanted tokillyou.”
Denzell gazed down into her face for a moment. Then he let go her hands and swept her into his embrace, kissing her with the full strength of his passion.
Verena felt as if she was drowning, helpless with the heat that raced through her veins, pulsing in secret places of whose existence she had hardly been aware. If she remained standing, it was only by virtue of the grip of Denzell’s arms about her back. She sank into him, a soft moan sounding in her throat.
When at last his lips released hers, it was only to mouth his way across her cheek, bury his lips into the hollows of her neck, and then return, hungrily to caress her mouth again, pressing his way into the innocent velvet touch within.
Verena groaned, but her hands grasped harder at his back, her brain clouding out of all capacity to think. There was no reality but this enveloping sensation, and truth, erupting into life, gave her all the certainty she would ever want or need.
Against the touch of his lips on hers, she whispered it. “I do love you — oh, Ido.”
And then she could not speak at all, for Denzell’s mouth claimed hers ever more strongly, and it was some little time before any coherent thought penetrated into her mind.
Just out of sight beyond a certain garden gate, Osmond and Unice Ruishton peeked at the couple so amorously entwined. They looked at each other. Osmond grinned down at his wife.
“If you knew how smug you look!”
“I have every right to look smug,” retorted Unice. “I have assisted in making a most delightful match.”
“You think she will make him happy, then?”
His wife’s eyes softened into tenderness. “She loves him, Osmond.”
“In that case, my darling,” he said, slipping his arm about her, “his happiness is assured.”
“And hers.”
Verena, resting in Denzell’s close embrace, her head on his shoulder, was aware of a feeling of ease within her breast and the gentle touch of Denzell’s fingers stroking in her hair. Shesighed contentedly, and felt him raise her head so that she had to look up at him. The misted eyes of blue roved her face in mute question.
A smile wavered on her lips. “I rather think you have prevailed, Mr Hawkeridge.”
Denzell grinned. “I rather think you have succumbed, Miss Chaceley.”
A little laugh escaped her. “Yes, I have. I cannot say that all my fears are laid to rest, not yet. But what can I do, Denzell? My shield has gone beyond my reach. If there is a risk, I have no choice but to take it — with you.”
His fingers cradled her cheek as he scanned her eyes. They were smiling, free of shadows, and Denzell’s heart soared.
“No more mask then, snow maiden?”
Verena’s hand reached up, and their fingers met, and laced.
“What mask, sir, is that?”
***
