Part 29 (1/2)
The woman shook her head, but her hands remained captive.
”No, no! It can't be. It is too beautiful, too good to be real. Not in this life. This life in which there is no peace--nothing that is--beautiful. Besides----”
”Besides?”
Again Vita shook her head. This time she gently released her hands.
Ruxton contemplated her. Something in her manner was restoring his control of himself.
”We cannot--we dare not think of--ourselves now,” Vita went on. ”A time may come when--but not now. We must not pause--nor step aside.”
Each word appeared to be an effort. It was as though she were fighting temptation in a forlorn hope. Ruxton saw it. He understood, and his whole Slavonic pa.s.sion took fire again. Quite suddenly his two great hands fell upon the woman's rounded shoulders, and his strong fingers held the soft flesh firmly. Her face was turned up to his in a startled fas.h.i.+on, wondering but unresentful. His pa.s.sion-lit eyes gazed deeply down into hers.
”Vita, my Vita, these protests are not you. They are the brave and loyal spirit seeking to abnegate those selfish claims which in my case are irresistible. You--you will love me. You do love me! I can see it in your eyes--now. G.o.d, was there ever so wonderful a sight for man?
Tell me. Forget all else and tell me of it. I am hungry--starving for the love you can give me. I will not wait. I dare not. I love you with all that is in me. I love you beyond all earthly duties and cares. Tell me all that lies behind your beautiful eyes, hidden deep down in your dear woman's heart.”
Vita was powerless. She was utterly powerless to resist the torrent of the love that leapt from him and overwhelmed her. All her protests died within her. She imperceptibly drew closer to him, and, in a moment, she lay crushed in his arms, her face hidden against his broad shoulder, the perfume of her hair intoxicating him still further. His head bent down against it and his lips rained caresses upon it. Then, in a second, one hand was raised and he lifted her face from its hiding-place so that his eyes gazed full upon it. Then, lower his face bent towards hers, and in a ravis.h.i.+ng silence their lips met, and held for long, long moments.
The evening shadows were softly drawing their veil about them. The plain little room had lost its crudeness of outline. Ruxton was seated in the armchair which had been set for him, and Vita was crouching curled up on the cus.h.i.+on on the floor close beside him. Ruxton was smoking now. He had been smoking for some minutes. Vita was listening to the voice she loved, and occasionally interrupted it with a question or comment.
He had just completed the story of his success, and her delight in it had held the woman forgetful of those things she had yet to tell to him.
But now, in the silence which had followed, a flood of recollection spread over her. She searched for a beginning with a brave desire to reveal as little of the disquiet which haunted her as possible.
”I have no such success to recount,” she said at last, gazing up at the strong face above her with a tender smile of confidence. ”I have heard from Von Salzinger, as I knew I should after that evening in--the car.”
”Ah!”
Ruxton laid a hand firmly over one of Vita's, which rested on the arm of the chair. It was a gesture which had in it all a strong man's promise of protection. To Vita it conveyed a sensation of exquisite rea.s.surance.
”Oh, it all seems so futile,” she cried, with a sudden helplessness. ”I mean when you think of the terrible Secret Service which seems to know everything. No one in England except ourselves knows of such a person as Valita von Hertzwohl. As for my home, only my father knows that. I have kept it secret even from you. And yet this Von Salzinger comes to England and--calls upon me. The refuge I had so carefully prepared for my father in case of emergency is--no refuge at all. I believe I am terrified.”
”Tell me more.” Ruxton leant forward in his chair. All satisfaction at the thought of his own affairs had died out of his expressive eyes.
They were full of concern and sympathy for the woman he loved. ”Where is this home? I had better know--now.”
Vita smiled tenderly. His trifling emphasis on the final word helped to banish something of her fears. It was the reminder of the bond between them.
”It is the sweetest of aged Elizabethan farms in Buckinghams.h.i.+re. It is called Redwithy Farm, and is less than two miles from Wednesford. It is the most romantically beautiful place you could find anywhere, small, but--I love it.” She sighed deeply. ”I was out riding when he called. I had no alternative but to see him.”
”Why?” The man's earnest gaze was steady. His alert mind was seeking something, nor did he know the nature of what he sought.
”Because Va.s.silitz had admitted him in my absence. He had no right to, but--he did. I cannot--but it doesn't matter now. I simply dared not refuse to see him, so I affected cordiality and--gave him tea.”
Ruxton made an impatient movement.
”Who is Va.s.silitz? What is he?” he demanded in a level tone.
”My butler. He is a Pole--a German Pole. All my servants are Poles. I have known them all my----”
”Ah. And you marvel at the power of the Secret Service?”