about your age. I think you're really all of about thirty-five and you dye your hair white ... because no one can tell me after today, least of all you, that you are a very old man."
He looked at her seriously. "But I am. Do you care?"
"I don't give a damn."
But he knew better. "Now you don't. But one day you will. And when that day comes, when I seem too old to you, when you want a young man, I'll step aside. I want you to remember that, darling. Because I mean it, with all my heart. When your time with me is over, when it is no longer right for you, when you want a younger man, and a different life, and babies, I'll go. And I'll understand, and I'll love you, but I will go."
Her eyes were filled with tears as she listened. "No, you won't." But he only nodded and took her gently back into his arms again.
He whispered softly in her ear. "Are you terribly sore, my darling?" She shook her head. Gently he took her, and this time she moaned softly and there was pleasure in her eyes. And at last as they lay together, happy and spent, he remembered something and looked at her with a soft smile. "I assume that you understand, Bettina, that I want to marry you." She looked up at him this time in surprise. She had hoped, but she hadn't been sure.
Her copper hair was tousled and she looked wonderfully sleepy but there was something very soft and lovely in her eyes. She hugged him. "I'm glad. Because I want to marry you too."
"Mrs. Stewart."
And then, laughing softly, she kissed him and muttered, "The Third." He looked at her in surprise then and pulled her to him.
"Are you ready?" He knocked softly on the door and waited on the other side, but Bettina was flying about in a panic, still in her slip, her eyes frantic, her arms flapping wide.
"No, no wait!" Mathilde went hurriedly to the closet to get the dress and slipped it carefully over Bettina's hair, and then she smoothed it over the narrow shoulders, closing hooks, buttons, snaps, and a zipper that ran imperceptibly up one side. It was a dress Bettina had bought in Paris with her father, but she had never worn it and it was perfect now.
She stood back to look at herself in the mirror, and over her left shoulder the reflection of the elderly Mathilde smiled benevolently too. Bettina looked beautiful in the simple cream satin dress. It was a mid-calf length, high-necked and short-sleeved with perfectly belled cap sleeves, and a jacket with much the same lines. She pulled on little white kid gloves and felt for the pearls in her ears, and then she stared down at her ivory-colored stockings and the virginal satin shoes. Everything was perfect, and she looked up at Mathilde now with a soft smile.
"You look beautiful, mademoiselle."
"Thank you, Mattie." She reached out to kiss the old woman then and after that walked slowly to the door. She hesitated for a long moment, wondering if he was still waiting on the other side. "Ivo?" She almost whispered it, but he heard her from behind the still closed door.
"Yes. Are you ready?"
She nodded, and then giggled. "I am. But aren't you supposed to wait to see me until we get there?"
"How do you propose to do that? Blindfold me in the car?" He was amused by her insistence on tradition, considering the circumstances. He was amused by everything she did these days. She was suddenly once again like a very enchanting child. She was free of worry, and the disastrous winter of tragedy had finally come to an end. She was his now, and she had a new life ahead of her, as his much pampered wife. "Come on, darling. We don't want to be late for Judge Isaacs. How about if I just close my eyes?"
"Okay. Are they closed?"
"Yes." He smiled, and feeling slightly foolish, he closed his eyes. He heard the door open, and a moment later he was aware of her perfume nearby. "Can I open them yet?"
She looked at him for a long moment, and then nodded slowly. "Yes." And he did, sighing softly as he saw her, wondering why the winter of his life should be so
He looked at her seriously. "But I am. Do you care?"
"I don't give a damn."
But he knew better. "Now you don't. But one day you will. And when that day comes, when I seem too old to you, when you want a young man, I'll step aside. I want you to remember that, darling. Because I mean it, with all my heart. When your time with me is over, when it is no longer right for you, when you want a younger man, and a different life, and babies, I'll go. And I'll understand, and I'll love you, but I will go."
Her eyes were filled with tears as she listened. "No, you won't." But he only nodded and took her gently back into his arms again.
He whispered softly in her ear. "Are you terribly sore, my darling?" She shook her head. Gently he took her, and this time she moaned softly and there was pleasure in her eyes. And at last as they lay together, happy and spent, he remembered something and looked at her with a soft smile. "I assume that you understand, Bettina, that I want to marry you." She looked up at him this time in surprise. She had hoped, but she hadn't been sure.
Her copper hair was tousled and she looked wonderfully sleepy but there was something very soft and lovely in her eyes. She hugged him. "I'm glad. Because I want to marry you too."
"Mrs. Stewart."
And then, laughing softly, she kissed him and muttered, "The Third." He looked at her in surprise then and pulled her to him.
"Are you ready?" He knocked softly on the door and waited on the other side, but Bettina was flying about in a panic, still in her slip, her eyes frantic, her arms flapping wide.
"No, no wait!" Mathilde went hurriedly to the closet to get the dress and slipped it carefully over Bettina's hair, and then she smoothed it over the narrow shoulders, closing hooks, buttons, snaps, and a zipper that ran imperceptibly up one side. It was a dress Bettina had bought in Paris with her father, but she had never worn it and it was perfect now.
She stood back to look at herself in the mirror, and over her left shoulder the reflection of the elderly Mathilde smiled benevolently too. Bettina looked beautiful in the simple cream satin dress. It was a mid-calf length, high-necked and short-sleeved with perfectly belled cap sleeves, and a jacket with much the same lines. She pulled on little white kid gloves and felt for the pearls in her ears, and then she stared down at her ivory-colored stockings and the virginal satin shoes. Everything was perfect, and she looked up at Mathilde now with a soft smile.
"You look beautiful, mademoiselle."
"Thank you, Mattie." She reached out to kiss the old woman then and after that walked slowly to the door. She hesitated for a long moment, wondering if he was still waiting on the other side. "Ivo?" She almost whispered it, but he heard her from behind the still closed door.
"Yes. Are you ready?"
She nodded, and then giggled. "I am. But aren't you supposed to wait to see me until we get there?"
"How do you propose to do that? Blindfold me in the car?" He was amused by her insistence on tradition, considering the circumstances. He was amused by everything she did these days. She was suddenly once again like a very enchanting child. She was free of worry, and the disastrous winter of tragedy had finally come to an end. She was his now, and she had a new life ahead of her, as his much pampered wife. "Come on, darling. We don't want to be late for Judge Isaacs. How about if I just close my eyes?"
"Okay. Are they closed?"
"Yes." He smiled, and feeling slightly foolish, he closed his eyes. He heard the door open, and a moment later he was aware of her perfume nearby. "Can I open them yet?"
She looked at him for a long moment, and then nodded slowly. "Yes." And he did, sighing softly as he saw her, wondering why the winter of his life should be so
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