Angel's Touch (22 page)

Henry was so still
now, so remote, as if that iron control of his had him once more in
its grip. But Verity, sensitively attuned to his emotions, felt the
grief he had reawakened in the telling of the tragedy that had
overtaken him. Beneath it, her own fears lurked, strengthened by
this new knowledge. But she had no time now to deal with these.
Henry was hurting. Henry must be comforted.

Verity reached out and
took his hand, cupping it between her own as his head turned and
the black eyes at last dared to look into hers again. She could not
keep the quaver from her voice, nor the moisture from her eyes, but
she spoke with a simplicity that touched him deeply.

‘
Dear Henry, it is for God to judge. For Him to decide whether
there shall be retribution. If He can forgive you, can you not find
it in your heart to forgive yourself?’

Slowly Henry’s hand turned within her grasp and his fingers
laced with her own. The black eyes were tender.

‘
Oh,
Verity,’ he uttered softly, ‘what manner of girl are you? Have you
no words of reproach? Do you not shrink from me in
horror?’

Her
lips trembled on a smile though her eyes were luminous with those
unshed tears. ‘I think I could never do that.’

Henry’s eyes swept down to caress the smile, and back up to
gaze into hers. Then he leaned towards her and swiftly pressed a
light kiss on her lips.

Verity’s bones turned to water and she felt oddly
light-headed. On a gasp, she said, ‘I d-don’t think you should have
d-done that.’

His
face hovered, still so close, but she only just heard his murmured
reply. ‘How can I help it if you will look at me so?’

‘
W-what do you mean? How do I look at you?’

‘
Like a sleeper waking from a beautiful
dream. . .to
this.’

His
mouth came down hard on hers and his arms encircled her body,
crushing her to him. Something exploded in Verity’s head and she
was aware only of sensation: of his hungry lips drawing on hers; of
the unexpected warmth of his pale cheek; of the firm muscular
strength of the body locked against her chest, and moving under her
hands as they groped involuntarily about his back.

She felt as if she
were drowning, while at the same time a force was growing deep
inside her. A force so strong that it brought a tide of heat
hurtling through her veins, so that her own lips clung and moved in
unison with the mouth locked with them, and she strained towards
his body as if she would meld with it.

But
when at last he released her, awareness came rushing back and she
sprang up from the wall, and as suddenly sat down again as she
discovered her knees were too weak to support her. She turned to
look at the perpetrator of this devastating assault, and found him
obviously equally discomposed, his chest heaving, his pale features
tinged with unusual colour, and his fingers trembling as he half
held his hands out to her.

‘
I most certainly do
not
,’
she
said, in a voice redolent with shock and with one hand at her
palpitating bosom, ‘think you should have done
that!’

Henry’s inevitable tension found relief in a burst of
laughter, and Verity’s blushes increased. ‘I beg your pardon,’ he
said, valiantly trying to compose himself. ‘It is uncivil of me to
laugh at such a moment, I know, but—oh, Verity, you are adorable.
So refreshingly innocent.’ He took her hand and brought it to his
lips. ‘Forgive me. I had no intention, truly, of going so far
before declaring myself.’

There could be no
mistaking his meaning and Verity was struck dumb. The hazel eyes
looked with a mixture of anticipation and apprehension into the
black.

Henry smiled, retaining his clasp on her hand. ‘Don’t look at
me so worriedly. It is rather I who should be afraid. I, who am no
hero, and yet—I trust—no villain either.’

‘
Don’t speak of that,’ Verity said quickly, suddenly finding
her tongue. ‘I spoke in jest.’

‘
Don’t you think I know that? I am just a man, Verity, who has
made a serious error, with tragic consequences. You asked me if I
could not find it in my heart to forgive myself. More to the point,
and infinitely more important, can you find it in your heart
to—?’

‘
Papa! Papa!’

Braxted’s voice, with a note of urgency that instantly took
the couple’s attention, broke in on them.

Verity, acutely
conscious of the compromising activities in which she had been
engaged, leaped up, her cheeks aflame, and turned to the boy as he
came running towards them.

‘
What is it? What has happened?’

The
marquis seized his hat and, leaning to grope for his cane where it
had fallen in the grass, he also pushed himself painfully to his
feet as Braxted’s jumbled explanations reached them.

‘
She’s hurt! Fallen down. Fainted, I think. I had to leave
Peggy with her.’

‘
Oh,
thank God,’ gasped Verity. ‘For a dreadful instant I thought you
were talking of Peggy.’

‘
No,
it’s Kittle. Kittle’s gone and hurt herself.’

‘
Where?’ demanded his father, preparing to move.

‘
No,
Henry, I’ll go,’ Verity said quickly. ‘Show me, Wystan.’

She
was gone on the words, seizing the boy’s hand and running in the
direction he tugged her.

‘
For
God’s sake, take care,’ called Salmesbury after them, as he saw her
lift her skirts and jump her way across the ground made uneven by
the profusion of fallen ancient stones under the weeds. He limped
gamely forward himself at an unaccustomed pace.

But
Verity, already in a state of high tension, was swept by this fresh
excitement into near panic, racing like the wind towards the spot
where Peggy’s wails pinpointed the scene of the
accident.

Kittle was lying
between two narrow juts of broken wall, but as they reached her
they saw that she had recovered sufficiently to be able to raise
herself on one elbow.

‘
Take care of your sister, Wystan,’ ordered Verity tersely,
going at once to kneel by the woman’s side. ‘How are you
hurt?’

‘
It’s my ankle, miss,’ uttered the nurse in a faint voice.
‘Twisted it, I did, as I come over the wall.’

She was struggling to
sit up, and Verity moved so that she might support her from
behind.

‘
Here, lean on me a little.’

Braxted, having
collected his sister and quieted her yowls, had returned to stand
by the nurse.

‘
I
thought you were dead, Kittle,’ he said, on a slightly disappointed
note.

‘
No,
Master Wystan,’ she replied, ‘but I did seem to lose my senses a
moment.’

‘
Tittoo, Tittoo,’ muttered Peggy plaintively.

‘
Only fancy if you had been dead,’ said her brother,
unheeding. ‘We’d have had the devil of a job to get you
home.’

‘
Be
quiet, Wystan,’ said Verity severely. ‘Come here, please, and take
my place so that I may have a look at poor Kittle’s
ankle.’

Braxted came, protesting, ‘How can I hold Kittle and Peggy at
the same time, I should like to know?’

‘
Sit
with your back to Kittle, and she may rest against you.’

Matters were so arranged, in spite of the boy’s arguments,
delivered against his sister’s interjections, and Verity moved to
examine the injured part.

‘
At
least there is no swelling,’ she commented, as she gently moved the
foot.

Kittle cried out. ‘Ooh, miss, it do hurt!’

‘
I’m
sorry. Well, it does not seem to be a bad sprain, thank God. Let us
see if you can stand.’

With
a good deal of puffing and blowing and groans on the part of the
patient, which caused Peggy to break out in tears again, crying,
‘Tittoo, Tittoo,’ so that her brother had his work cut out
attending to her, Verity managed to get the woman on to her feet.
By this time the marquis was seen to be coming up with
them.

‘
Can
she walk?’ he asked without preamble.

‘
We
have not yet tried,’ Verity responded, adding to the nurse, ‘See if
you can put your foot to the ground.’

Kittle did so, but
raised it again, wincing.

‘
Very well, you must lean on me and hop,’ Verity instructed
practically. ‘We will go this way to avoid the stones.’

‘
Let
me lead,’ Salmesbury advised. ‘You will not go faster than I in
that condition, and I know the way out of this labyrinth of a
ruin.’

By a
circuitous route, they came out of the ruin itself and traversed
its environs to arrive at the trees where the marquis had left the
phaeton with its horses tethered so they might crop the
bushes.

Kittle was very
apologetic and expressed herself as feeling extremely foolish and
low at having spoiled the party of pleasure.

‘
Stuff,’ scoffed Verity. ‘We will take you back home and have
this ankle seen to.’

‘
Oh,
no, miss. Oh, please, miss,’ begged Kittle. ‘I couldn’t never
forgive myself if you was to go to such trouble. No,
indeed.’

‘
It
is no trouble, I assure you. His lordship will not mind driving us
all, I am sure.’ She threw a smile at Henry as she spoke. ‘Driving
is his passion, after all.’

He smiled back, but,
before he could respond, Kittle was off again.

‘
Oh,
no, miss. His lordship is very kind. But I don’t want to spoil the
day, miss. If only his lordship might consent to take me up, the
children could stay with you, miss, couldn’t they? At least until
Bradshaw comes back with his lordship.’

‘
Now
that,’ put in Henry in a pleased tone, ‘is an excellent notion.’ He
gave Verity a meaning look. ‘I think there is no need to end our
day out so soon.’

Realising that he meant to continue their interrupted
tête-á-tête, Verity felt the colour steal into her cheeks. But she
made no comment, merely falling in with the plan, helping Kittle
into the carriage and making sure she was comfortable.

‘
I’ll be back in no time,’ Henry promised. His eyes signalled
to Verity a fleeting intimate message that this reassurance was
meant for her. Then he drove away.

Verity, her heart fluttering, turned to find Braxted trying
to stifle a fit of the giggles as he held little Peggy back from
trying to run after the vehicle.

‘
What is the matter?’

He
grinned. ‘I was only thinking, now there are two old
crocks.’

Verity could not help but laugh, but said, as she stooped to
pick up Peggy, ‘Yes, very well, I know it is amusing, but it is not
at all a proper sentiment, so don’t repeat it, I beg of
you.’

‘
I
won’t. Can I go off again now? I haven’t finished my
’sploring.’

‘
Very well, but keep within sight.’

Peggy, stunned into
silence by these rapid events, remained so for a few moments in the
novelty of finding herself in a strange embrace. But as she noticed
Wystan darting about the ruins, she wriggled, signifying her desire
to be released in no uncertain terms.

‘
Peddy down. No ’old Peddy. Down! Down!’

Verity, unable to keep
hold of the wriggling bundle, was obliged to put her on the ground.
Peggy immediately stumbled off after her brother, but Verity was
easily able to keep within a few feet of her.

Her
mind once more at leisure, she found her thoughts flowing back to
the memory of Henry’s kisses. A sharp tug inside her brought back
the feel of his passion and she found herself longing to feel it
again. It seemed as if her wish was to be granted—if he had really
been about to offer. She had been so sure at the time, but
now—

An
alien sound, coming in above Braxted’s muted shouts and Peggy’s
shrill responses, broke into her absorption. Hoofbeats, muffled by
the grassy ground.

She looked about,
trying to identify where they were coming from. Suddenly a pair of
horsemen erupted from the trees beyond the ruins, coming out of the
forest that ran through the whole estate.

Verity stood watching
them come for the space of a few seconds. Then, spurred by an
intangible sense of danger, she closed the gap between herself and
the little girl, lifting the infant as Braxted came running towards
her, impelled no doubt by the natural curiosity of childhood.

The horsemen were
trotting directly towards them and Verity called out to the
boy.

‘
Wystan, hurry! Come here to me!’

The
two horses slowed to pick their way over the stones and Verity
grasped the boy’s hand and held it tightly.

‘
Who
are they? What do they want?’ asked Braxted, a touch of fear
overlaying the excitement in his voice.

‘
I
don’t know,’ Verity replied, eyeing them nervously.

Without quite knowing
why, she began to back away. Her heart was thudding and she could
feel Peggy stirring uneasily as her fright communicated itself to
the little girl.

Then everything
happened so fast that she was never able afterwards to recall
exactly the sequence of events.

The
horses suddenly speeded up. With one accord, she and Wystan turned
to run and Peggy set up a whimper. Verity let go the boy’s hand and
he dashed headlong for safety among the ruins. He was not quick
enough.