Elise’s breath to violets and her complexion to a lily’s. It was almost as good as the one that said she was more fair and lovely than a summer’s day. It would have been better, perhaps, had he thought to use a violet or a lily as the flower, but instead, he’d tied the note to a morning glory. Odd. Though Bernard seemed to have a way with poetry, her betrothed was sorely lacking when it came to that sort of planning. Foolish trifles of a boy in love, her father had said, but Elise knew better. She’d heard the way the servants talked about Bernard. She’d heard the stories about the peasant girls. Still, the poems were an unnecessary token, given their parents’ wishes. That he took the trouble gave her comfort. Theirs would be a pleasant marriage.
She blew a kiss to Bernard from her window, and he pretended to catch it and press it to his heart. “Six days, my fair Elise!” he cried from the garden, his eyes shining in his handsome face. “Six days until you’re mine!” And then he turned and left, and Elise smiled at him until she noticed he was trampling all the seedlings in her garden with his big brown boots.
“Bernard!” she shouted. “My tarragon!”
He leaped off the plants as if burned and landed squarely in the lavender.
Elise sighed and shook her head as she returned to her supper.
There was a knock at her door and a moment later, Adolphe appeared, powdered and wigged to within an inch of his life. Elise sat calmly by the window as he approached and stooped to kiss her hand. He towered over her, but it was an illusion. The heels of his coral satin shoes had to be at least six inches.
“My dear cousin,” he said. “How are your spirits this evening?”
“Well enough,” she replied. They would have been better had she not heard that five more of Adolphe’s men had arrived at the estate this evening. She hadn’t bothered writing to the Vicomte, though. He no doubt knew already, in that way he had of knowing everything that happened here. Her wedding couldn’t come quickly enough.
She tossed a piece of chicken to Bisou, who was still hiding beneath her sofa. Perhaps the treat would draw him out.
“I worry for you, my dear,” said Adolphe. “Left all alone, in this cruel world—”
“Not for long.” She toyed with the flower in her lap. “Bernard and I shall soon be wed and then—”
“Such a pity your poor father did not live to see that day.” Adolphe’s voice betrayed not the slightest hint of human pity, though he’d shown up quickly enough the day after they’d placed Le Seigneur in the ground. “Do you not think it wise to delay this marriage? We have hardly had the chance to set his affairs in order.”
“My marriage contract is in order,” Elise said, allowing her tone to betray no hint of her annoyance. “My father signed it the day before his accident.”
“Your father no doubt expected to live to see you bear him a grandson.” Adolphe cast his eyes about the room. Elise wondered if he was sizing up her belongings, setting a price on every vase and handkerchief. “But now...”
“Nothing has changed.” Elise’s voice wavered slightly. How she wished he would not address her without the Vicomte or her other friends present! The Vicomte had been most specific about what she was and was not allowed to say to Adolphe Dufosset. “And when I am married, the contract will be executed as my father intended. Will that not be nice?” she asked hopefully. “To see his last wishes carried out?”
Adolphe did not respond and as the silence stretched, Elise began to grow uneasy. Bisou darted out from underneath the upholstery and pounced on the scrap of meat. Adolphe looked at the pup with disdain, and Elise frowned.
“I believe I am a bit tired, sir. Perhaps I should rest.”
“Indeed.” But he did not move to stand. “So much weight on your shoulders, my dear cousin.”
Elise swallowed.
“It’s a wonder you have not been overwhelmed by it all. Indeed, it seems you hardly know which way to turn, now that your father is gone.”
Elise kept her eyes on her lap. “I trust in the opinion of the Vicomte. He was my father’s dearest friend, and he will be my father, too, once I am married.”
“The Vicomte would add you to his collection, and include our family lands if he can. Elise, do you not see this? It’s impossible that you are so stupid that you cannot.”
The stem of the flower crushed beneath Elise’s fingers. “I want only to fulfill my father’s wishes,” she said, though it felt as if her own throat was equally mangled.
Adolphe’s shadow fell across the silk of her dress. “We shall see, my dear cousin. We shall see if you marry this boy of the Vicomte’s, and we shall see, if you do, whether you take with you this estate.”
Elise raised her head. “Monsieur Dufosset, you would do well to remember that you are here on my invitation.”
“I am at that,” he replied evenly. “How curious that you fashion yourself the mistress of this house.”
She caught her breath at the rage burning behind Adolphe’s placid expression. Her father had refused to see the man during his lifetime. Elise didn’t know the exact nature of their quarrel, but at the very least she understood from the Vicomte that Adolphe’s claim to their estate was not as valid as Adolphe would have her believe.
“It’s ... best that you leave now,” was all she managed to say.
“You think this is your home, that you can tell me where I may or may not go?” he asked, his tone turning dangerous. “That this is your room? Your china? Your dinner?” He shoved at her tray, and the glasses clinked. He was practically shouting now, and Elise shrank back against the cushions of her chair. “Do you think this is your
And with that, he snatched up Bisou and threw him against the wall.
Elise shrieked as the dog bounced off the plaster and landed on the carpet. “Bisou!” She threw herself from the chair to the floor. The dog tried to raise itself and fell, whimpering. “
The door to her room opened and in rushed her maid, along with one of her father’s old valets. “My lady, is everything well?”
Bisou crawled toward her, crying pitifully. He dragged his back leg. Elise scooped the animal up in her arms. “My poor sweet thing...” she bawled. “My angel.”
Adolphe let out a little snort. “Pathetic.”
“Leave me,” she whispered.
“Sir,” said the valet. “You shall depart my mistress’s chambers at once.”
The maid crouched near Elise. “My lady, let me see to it for you.”
Elise tightened her grip. “No. Bring me bandages. Bring me ... something.” A splint? Could a dog’s leg be healed once broken? Above her, the valet was attempting to force Adolphe from the room.
“Remove your hands from me, filth,” said Adolphe as he was shoved into the hall. “Or you shall know my wrath once I am master of this house.”
The valet slammed the door and threw the bolt. Then he joined them near the floor. “My lady, I shall send for the Vicomte’s men at once. We will install a guard at your door. We must drive this usurper out before it is too late.”
Elise’s eyes began to burn, but the tears did not spill onto her cheeks, just stayed there, stinging her with their salt. Oh, what did it matter who had this house? Let the Vicomte and Adolphe battle it out, and divide the tenants and servants amongst themselves. Why couldn’t they just let her be? She knelt there, on the carpet, and curved herself around the body of her poor dog, wondering if she could spiral tight enough to disappear altogether.
As morning broke over the horizon, Gitta stood on the edge of the forest and waited for Elise to arrive. Dawn was probably far too early for the poor, pampered princess. Gitta wondered if Elise had ever seen a sunrise in her spoiled life.
Enyo stood waiting patiently by her side. She’d let the animal hunt in the night, and judging from the remains she’d found strewn near their little camp, the unicorn had found a vole’s nest. It would satisfy her for a while, but she hoped Enyo had the opportunity for a real meal before she had to kill her. A stag, perhaps, or a nice, fat wild sow. Gitta would help, if necessary, since she knew the unicorn was not as fast as she had once been. Enyo deserved it.
Enyo lifted her head, and Gitta felt the unicorn softening in anticipation. Another unicorn hunter approached.
