The House of Discontent (25 page)

“Oh, it was because you didn’t speak to me at supper, if you must have it. There, now you’ve got it out of me. Now I hope you have made a big enough fool of me to be satisfied.”

She was on the verge of tears again, but his answer was so unexpected that she felt she could not have heard aright.

“My darling,” he said very gently.

Patricia turned and looked at him in wonder. He could see the tears glistening on her lashes.

“My darling,” he said again, and he said it in a voice which she had never heard before. His sudden gentleness after all his bullying was like the sudden cessation of unbearable sound. Her heart was flooded with a peace and joy such as she had never known before.

“Oh, Anthony,” she said, and in a moment his arms were round her, and she could feel his heart beating wildly against her own. He was covering her face and neck with kisses, and at last he found her mouth and held it in a kiss that she never wanted to end. It was as if he were givin
g
her his whole soul in that kiss, and she gave back to him her own.

At length he took his lips away from hers and held her head in his hands and tried in the darkness to look into her eyes. Then gently he kissed her eyelids, one after the other.

“I had to be sure,” he said. “I
had
to be sure.”

“Sure of what?” she questioned.

“That you loved me, that you really and truly loved me. Oh, thank heaven I heard you crying. If it had just been pique or hurt pride you would not have cried. You would have gone off and flirted with someone else to show me that you didn’t care ... I knew, I was almost sure, that you cared for me then, when I heard you crying, but I had to make quite sure. That’s why I dragged it out of you. It was beastly of me, but I had to know.”

“Then you do love me?” she asked wonderingly.

“Of course I do—but how I have struggled against it! I didn’t want to love you, but I couldn’t help myself. Even before I had seen you properly I loved you. I fell in love with your voice, I think. It was in the taxi—do you remember? It was so dark we couldn’t see each other. The first real look we had at each other was in the hotel. You weren’t looking nearly as lovely as you have looked all this evening, and yet I loved you then ... Oh, Patricia, you don’t know what I have been through, what a struggle it has been.”

“Why has it been such a struggle?” she asked. “You must have known what I felt. I was afraid all the time that I had made it horribly obvious to you.”

“Obvious! I like that! You gave me nothing—nothing to go on at all. I asked you to write me, and you sent me a cold little postcard. I was nearly demented when I got that postcard. I was always giving you opportunities to tell me what you felt, but you never took them—never. I gave you an opportunity this evening before supper but you deliberately turned it down. You have always been so cold.”

“Cold!” she exclaimed. “If only you knew!”

“You do really love me?” he demanded.

“You must know that I do.”

“How could I possibly know it? And you love me for myself alone?”

“What else could I love you for?”

“Oh, I’ve got money, and a certain position, I suppose.”

Patricia gave a little snort of contempt. “That isn’t really what has been holding you back, is it?” she asked. “You didn’t really think that I liked you for your money or your title, did you? That isn’t what has been worrying you?”

“No. It did worry me, but only a little bit. It is the strength of my own feeling for you which has been holding me back and which I have been fighting against. I didn’t want to love you so much. I didn’t want to be obsessed by you ... Do you know that since the first time I saw you, you have never been wholly out of my mind, even when I have been asleep? I’ve dreamt about you every night, I think. Darling, do you know what it means to be as much in love as I am with you?”

“I think so,” she said, “because that is just the way in which I love you.”

His arms were suddenly tight round her again. “Goodness, how I love you!” he said. “I don’t know what to do about it”

Patricia laughed. She was so happy that she felt she was floating on air. Suddenly he pushed her away.

“What is it?” she asked.

“You are laughing at me.”

“I’m not. I was only laughing because I am so happy. What do you mean you don’t know what to do about it?

“You don’t know what sort of person I am,” he said. “I’m not an easy person. I’m intensely possessive. I shall be so jealous of you that I’ll make your life a torment.”

“I will never give you cause for jealousy,” she said, “and I want you to be possessive. Don’t you think I shall be jealous and possessive where you are concerned, too?”

“But I shall find cause where there is no cause. I almost hate anyone else looking at you. I don’t love lightly or easily. It is because I have been so afraid of loving you too much that I have been struggling against it. I am so entirely in your hands now. You have such power to hurt me.”

“I shall never hurt you,” she said gently. “There is only one thing I want in the world, and that is to make you happy. I shall dedicate my whole life to that.”

“You are sweeter than I believed it possible for anyone to be,” he said. “How soon will you marry me?”

“As soon as you like.”

“As soon as it can be arranged, then. Will you leave it to me?”

“I shall leave everything to you—always.”

“My darling ... I wonder how you will like the other house?”

“I’m longing to see it.”

“I’m longing to show it to you. I’ve thought about you so often there that already you are a part of it ... It needs doing up. Will you like that, doing up our home?”

“Our home! How wonderful that sounds.”

“It will be wonderful ... You haven’t really told me, that you love me yet.”

“But I have.”

“No, not solemnly in so many words. I shall need constant reassurance.”

“You shall have it then, but why you should
need
it I can’t imagine. How anyone could fail to love you is past understanding.”

“What nonsense,” he said. “But you say anybody. What do I care about anybody? It is
your
love I want to be sure of, not anybody else’s.”

“You have my love—all my love. I love you and only you, and, what is more, I have never loved anybody else.”

“Is that true?” he asked, gripping her arms and again trying to fathom her eyes in the darkness.

“Yes, absolutely true.”

He put his head down on her shoulder for a moment and then he raised it again. “How I worship you,” he said. “Do you realize what I’m trusting you with? All my life and all my happiness. I am putting all my eggs in one basket in loving you. If you ever leave me, or if I ever lose you, I shall be shattered, finished. Absolutely finished. Do you understand that?”

“Yes, I understand it perfectly,” she replied gravely, “because it will be the same with me.”

“I suppose we must go back to the house,” he said at last. “I mustn’t be too rude.”

Patricia did not want to go, but she stood up without protest. He got up likewise, but before they left the summer-house he put his arms round her again and they stood crushed together for a long, long time. She was experiencing an ecstasy such as she had never thought possible. Her love for him was breaking over her in great waves. Surely there was no bliss on earth comparable with this!

At last he let her go, and, with his arm still round her waist, they returned slowly to the house.

“Don’t say anything to anyone tonight,” he said as they got to the front door. “I want mother to be the first to hear about it.”

“Do you think she’ll mind?” Patricia asked in sudden apprehension.

“No, she’ll be delighted. She loves you, you know. She’s longing for me to get married, because she wants grandchildren so badly.”

Patricia felt a thrill go through her.

“Do you want them?” she asked.

“What, grandchildren?” he asked, laughing.

“No, children.”

“I want
your
children,” he replied.

As he was helping her off with his mother’s coat in the hall she turned to him and said in sudden panic: “This is not all a dream, this lovely thing that has happened to us, is it? It’s not all going to fade away? I can’t quite believe in it yet.”

“If it is a dream,” he replied, “it’s a dream which will go on for always, and in which we shall always be together.” He took her hand and kissed it as he spoke.

Patricia closed her eyes for a moment and murmured: “For ever and ever, until death us do part.”

“Not even death,” he said. “You will be mine for all eternity now.” And, putting his arms round her, he held her close and kissed her very gently.

THE END