Chapter Six: Page Two
The rasp of unrequited desire in his voice roused Selphie, even while she reproached herself. Cradling his face in her hands, she crooned her reply. "I have waited all my life for you." "Let's not tarry a moment longer, then." His hand ran through the cascade of curls that tumbled from her headdress. "What?" she gasped. "Run away to Gretna at this hour?" Not that she would hesitate if it were the only means of making him hers. The passionate haste of an elopement appealed to her romantic spirit. But there was a furtive and selfish side to it as well. She wanted their family and friends to share in their joy. She wanted the whole world to see her pride in becoming his wife.
The warm weight of Selphie in his arms made Lord Kinneas quite delirious. He shook his head in answer to her question about eloping. "Even that would not be soon enough for me." "Then how…?" She subsided in a gurgle of delight as he returned to kissing her shoulders. "A ceremony is only…the witnessing." He kept his lips in contact with her rose-petal skin, so that every word became a kiss. "What truly makes a man and woman husband and wife is the vows they make to one another. Will you make those vows with me, here? Every star in the heavens can bear witness." "Wed in a rose garden at midnight?" She lingered over the words. "How vastly romantic!" She was a creature of romance. No wonder she had given him no encouragement over the years. He had given her none — not a look or a word or a touch to convey the slightest hint of his true feelings for her. Nor had he been truthful with himself about the reason for his reticence. At first he'd blamed his hesitation on her youth, blinding himself to her blossoming womanhood. Then he'd pretended to protect her from her own tender heart, when in truth it was his heart that needed protection. He had been prepared to wait and hope and pine for Selphie — expecting her to give him some encouragement, rather than risk revealing his love in case she might tell him she could never return it. If his cousin Squall had not pushed him into it, would Irvine be here with her now, a word away from gaining his heart's desire? "Well?" he prompted her. "Will you?" "How could I refuse?" "Very easily, I'm afraid. But I hope you won't." More than he had hoped for anything in his life. "Never fear." She traced his lips with the tip of her forefinger. Then she spoke the three most beautiful words Irvine had ever heard. "I am yours."
The rasp of unrequited desire in his voice roused Selphie, even while she reproached herself. Cradling his face in her hands, she crooned her reply. "I have waited all my life for you." "Let's not tarry a moment longer, then." His hand ran through the cascade of curls that tumbled from her headdress. "What?" she gasped. "Run away to Gretna at this hour?" Not that she would hesitate if it were the only means of making him hers. The passionate haste of an elopement appealed to her romantic spirit. But there was a furtive and selfish side to it as well. She wanted their family and friends to share in their joy. She wanted the whole world to see her pride in becoming his wife.
The warm weight of Selphie in his arms made Lord Kinneas quite delirious. He shook his head in answer to her question about eloping. "Even that would not be soon enough for me." "Then how…?" She subsided in a gurgle of delight as he returned to kissing her shoulders. "A ceremony is only…the witnessing." He kept his lips in contact with her rose-petal skin, so that every word became a kiss. "What truly makes a man and woman husband and wife is the vows they make to one another. Will you make those vows with me, here? Every star in the heavens can bear witness." "Wed in a rose garden at midnight?" She lingered over the words. "How vastly romantic!" She was a creature of romance. No wonder she had given him no encouragement over the years. He had given her none — not a look or a word or a touch to convey the slightest hint of his true feelings for her. Nor had he been truthful with himself about the reason for his reticence. At first he'd blamed his hesitation on her youth, blinding himself to her blossoming womanhood. Then he'd pretended to protect her from her own tender heart, when in truth it was his heart that needed protection. He had been prepared to wait and hope and pine for Selphie — expecting her to give him some encouragement, rather than risk revealing his love in case she might tell him she could never return it. If his cousin Squall had not pushed him into it, would Irvine be here with her now, a word away from gaining his heart's desire? "Well?" he prompted her. "Will you?" "How could I refuse?" "Very easily, I'm afraid. But I hope you won't." More than he had hoped for anything in his life. "Never fear." She traced his lips with the tip of her forefinger. Then she spoke the three most beautiful words Irvine had ever heard. "I am yours."
