His fingers traced lightly over the dark mahogany carvings, following the drooping wildflowers as they curved toward the doorknob. He allowed a fingertip to slide lightly along the metal plating as he stood before her door, contemplating.
Straightening his posture, he inhaled before lightly rapping his knuckles against the aged wood.
He heard some muffled scraping and then a sniffle before the door swung inward to reveal her diminutive figure. She was wrapped in a dressing gown, the black velvet brocade embroidered with celestial patterns in golden thread. She appeared luminescent, hair glinting in the low light and fanning out behind her. Yet, the garment seemed to swallow her up, not ill-fitting but misplaced, like a sad child clad in an imperial mantel.
Stevie didn't speak, eyes expectant as she waited for him to begin.
"Just wondering if you were hungry—or when you last ate?" He inquired, unable to fully disguise the concern in his voice as he rephrased the question. She had sequestered herself up in her room all day, and after her tearful confession the night before, he was relieved just to catch a glimpse of her.
"I don't know—this morning maybe?" Stevie leaned further against the doorjamb as she considered his question. Light from the sconces in the hall gleamed against the silken sheath of her black nightgown and changed with her movement, drawing his gaze to the width of her hips. He stared for a moment before quickly looking away.
"Well there's a full feast downstairs if you're interested."
"I'm not sure..." She looked down, her bare feet peeking out from underneath her dress and toeing gently at a crimson flower decorating the soft oriental rug.
"Audette's apparently pulled out all the stops for a traditional holiday meal."
As befitted an estate like the chateau, there were waitstaff present to serve, assist, and, in Audette's case, cook. Over the past few months, her homemade recipes had carved a special place in his heart for French cuisine.
"Traditional French, huh?" Stevie inquired, the beginnings of an amused smirk on her lips, "I'm not sure I'm in the mood to eat some poor baby deer."
He huffed a laugh, her humorous attitude abating his worry.
"Come on, otherwise the poor thing's sacrifice will have been for nothing."
"Well, then—after you."
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"C'est excellent." He praised as Audette presented their main course. The house was understaffed for the holiday, and the small cook had taken upon herself to serve their meal as well.
Stevie looked on as they conversed, Lindsey occasionally glancing back at her as he clearly relished in his superior knowledge. Everything was always a competition with him. She rolled her eyes, pushing the turkey across her plate. Veal actually hadn't been featured on their menu, though the foie gras had been a bit too much for her.
