The Velvet Glove

by Rebecca Stratton

  'I was so afraid of losing you, and so afraid that you would realise how much I loved you, before you were old enough to accept the fact, that I perhaps—what is the phrase?—over-reacted.'

  It seemed incredible, yet she had to know, and she looked up at him with none of the wariness that she had once felt, her blue eyes bright and curious. 'Is—is that why you've never married?'

  Nuri laughed, then kissed her hard until she was breathless. 'If I tell you that, you will have all my secrets, my love! Be content to know that I have waited for four years for you, and now I have had to move quickly for fear Ian Kearn took you from me!'

  She shook her head firmly. 'He couldn't have done!'

  His mouth only a breath above hers, Nuri smiled slowly. 'But I did not know you had already told him you would not go with him. I was afraid he would sweep you off your feet and I should lose you for ever.'

  'So you approached Baba in the recognised manner —the old way.'

  'It is still our way, Laurette.' A hint of the old manner brought an anxious flutter to her heart. 'Do you not approve?'

  Laurette buried her face against him, her voice muffled, but still quite audible. 'I approve of anything that makes it possible for me to marry you, my darling!'

  Nuri lifted her face with one big hand and his black eyes were glitteringly bright as he searched her small face for his answer. 'Then will you marry me, my love?'

  Through the window behind him the moon was riding high in a dark velvet sky and she smiled up at him again, her mouth already reaching up to him. 'I love you,' she said, and to Nuri that was answer enough.