“Yes, it is,” chimed in Unice. She patted Verena’s shoulder. “It is the magic of love.”
Verena did not look round at her, but continued to stare at Denzell’s face. Her fingers moved within his grasp, turning so that, without meaning to, they laced with his.
“Is it?” she asked of the smoky blue eyes.
“Yes,” he responded simply.
For a moment longer the look held between them. Then a sound, half-sob, half-sigh, broke from Verena, and she blinked as her trouble came back to her.
“Mama,” she murmured, and her gaze moved away from him.
But by this time Osmond was returning, a glass of brandy in his hand. Denzell took it from him, curled Verena’s fingers about it, and made her drink.
Verena sipped at the liquid, and choked on the fiery sensation as it caught in her throat. She tried to push the glass away.
“No more.”
“Yes — another sip or two,” Denzell insisted, obliging her to put the glass to her lips again.
She was in no condition to resist him. This time the liquid ran down more easily, and she felt a burning in her chest. Andindeed it was having a calming effect. The sensation of panic began to subside.
“That’s better,” Denzell said, removing the glass. He tossed off what remained himself and handed the empty vessel back to Osmond. His head was the clearer for it, and he felt ready to deal with this emergency.
“Now, Verena, tell us the whole. From the beginning.”
Verena shivered, and without knowing that she did so, groped for his hand again. She was aware only of the gathering despair in her breast as the events of the morning crowded into her memory. But they did not have quite the same power to overset her, for the burden of settling the business no longer seemed to lie wholly on her own shoulders. She spoke when she felt again the comfort of Denzell’s hand closing about her own. At first she addressed herself almost exclusively to him.
“I thought all was well after last night. When Mama saw how you conducted yourself, she appeared to be convinced she had been mistaken in your sentiments — as we agreed she should be made to believe.”
“She said something then?” Denzell asked.
A faint smile flitted across Verena’s face. “She said that if there is one thing worse than abuse, it is the pain caused by philandering husbands. And Mrs Felpham was quick to come up and gloat that you had fallen into your old ways —”
“She would,” cut in Osmond.
“Hush!” Unice uttered. She had herself taken a seat on one of the other chairs, seeing how easily Denzell seemed able to attend to Verena’s immediate needs without any help from his hostess. “Let Verena tell her tale.”
“Go on, Verena,” Denzell said, grinning. “I take it you did not disabuse Mrs Felpham, any more than your mama.”
“No —” casting him a deprecating glance — “I was too busy trying to disabuse myself.”
The picture leapt back into her mind. So carefree he had seemed, laughing and casting sheep’s eyes all over the room. Oh, the pain of watching it! And despite the fact that she had wanted him — had, indeed, demanded of him — to create that impression of disinterest in herself, she had begun to believe it was true.
She saw him start to speak, and shook her head. “Don’t scold. I know — oh, I know. But to see you flirting with other women…”
“Ha!” came from Osmond under his breath.
Unice frowned him down, but she need not have worried. Verena had eyes and ears only for Denzell as he murmured his reassurance.
“You would not have concerned yourself for an instant had you seen me at a later time. I have even now been suffering the most devilish head.”
The tiniest of laughs lightened her features for an instant. “So that is why you finished my brandy for me. Are you well again?”
He grinned. “No, but let that pass. I am the more troubled for you.”
Her features clouded again. “Oh, but she fooled me very successfully. Mama, I mean. We were discussing the matter at some length, and when I saw she had abandoned the notion of my marrying you, I begged her also to abandon any thought of this foolish determination to return with Nathaniel.”
“Did she agree that she would abandon it?”
