Delphinia lay on the floor of the old gazebo. She had no tears. Her emotions were a lump in her throat, and her spirits were too subdued to release them and give her peace. Instead she languished and listened to the soft pattern of rain on the sagging roof above her. She heard footsteps on the crisp leaves and turned lazily to the side to peer into the forest gloom that separated her from the burg. Her filmy shawl stretched across her shoulders as she glanced here and there, expecting Oskar's dusky head to appear at any moment beneath the canopy of trees.
Instead a white booted foot fell on the step before her, startling her. The heeled pearl-like shoe was buckled with gold and laced with white satin ribbon. A preternatural disquiet rose in her, chilling her blood, blighting her melancholy for instant fear. The shoe was too fine for Oskar's, too small for Gauvain's.
Delphinia leaned back on her hands, her shawl spilling behind her to the rotted boards. In careful study she watched the figure advancing on her. His hair was a halo of gold massed around a small, slender head. In the midst of his pale features blue eyes stared. His lips were twisted in amusement. His coat, not quite his most fine, was a confection of ivory adorned with new lace, which he must have purchased during his recent stay in France. She wondered dimly if he had sent his mistress packing as he had intended, or if those pretty implications were a matter of courtesy before their relationship advanced the next step.
His eyes fell to her fallen shawl, her damp and stained gown, her bedraggled hair and flushed face. "I thought I would find you this way."
"How did you find me at all?"
"I made it my business to know where you where."
She rose and sat more properly, arranged her shawl and clasped her hands in her lap. "Lord Christoph, why have you come to me?"
"I love you. I want to marry you." He said it with such seriousness that she felt slightly hot in the face, though behind his words was irony, for he was stating what was obvious.
"My father must have told you where I was."
"Of course he did. He does not want you here. I want to take you to my chateau, Lady Delphinia. You will love it. I have spent weeks preparing it for you."
"That's not what--" Delphinia shook off the impulse to speak plainly. "Do you actually love me, Lord Christoph?"
"I have loved you as long as I have known you. And I want to marry you, if you will have me."
He knelt beside her on the rotten stairs, and Delphinia gazed at him through the gloom. She felt Christoph's cool hand move over her own and pull it toward him. In the distance she saw a tall, broad figure moving slowly beyond the castle bounds and caught her breath.
She felt for the first time that she was in control. She did not think of herself as holding Christoph's heart in her hands. She looked at his finely-tailored clothes and pale, curling hair and thought behind those trappings there must be no human being, no soul.
An evening bird gave a sorrowing call from somewhere close by them. Delphinia glanced away nervously, but Christoph's gaze remained fastened on her face. "Will you have me, Lady Delphinia?" he asked, and she started at the low, thrilling note in his voice.
"Yes, my lord Christoph," she said on a cadence of laughter that stuck in her throat. He put his arms around her, held her closely, and she thought, you will not be the one to use me. You may have your celebrity marriage, but you will serve my purposes as well. The dark figure advanced on them ever closer.
"You are as beautiful as a dream. I have so much I have yearned to share with you. Only a week before I was walking throughout my chateau, looking over its empty garden, sorrowing for you. Wanting to hear your footsteps near mine in the corridor, to see the shadow of your form on the wall. The larders are stocked with delicacies to tempt you to decadence. The Lady's chamber is newly refurbished in your preferred color."
She looked at him with astonishment. "It is all pink? Truly?"
"Everything that can be pink, is pink, my darling." He held her close against his cheek, stroking her hair.