Disclaimer: I do not own anything Phantom or Phantom related…unfortunately.
AN: Someone asked for a one-shot sequel to "To Start Anew," so here it is. It's short, but I tried my hardest to make it good. Thanks for reading, and please leave a review when you're done! Thanks!
Daddy's Little Girl:
"Erik, pacing will do you no good, and will get you nothing except a worn place on the floor," Clara Rousseau chided her husband. "Really, dear, it's only dinner, and it means so much to Bianca…"
The white mask on her husband's face turned to look at her, the darkness of the room making it seem to hover in the faint light coming from the candles sparsely lining the walls. Just looking at it made her shiver in delight, knowing that the man behind the mask was all hers and had been so for nearly twenty years. In all the years they had been married, he never ceased to amaze her with his dark beauty, enchanting voice, and unending love that shone within his green eyes every time he looked at her.
"It is not merely 'dinner,' Angel…it is an event that I had hoped to avoid for another few years yet," whispered his smooth voice, the mere sound of it caressing the air around her.
Clara shivered again, but managed to compose herself once more. "Erik, Bianca is a grown woman, not a child," she said, rising up from her seat on the couch.
She carefully made her way to her Erik's pacing form, stopping him with a gentle hand on his shoulder. Erik halted mid-step, his body turning to face the woman he loved more than anything else in this world…well, besides their children. Her beauty had not diminished one bit since the day they had first met, her straight brown hair free of even the slightest touch of gray, and her warm, chocolate-brown eyes were still soft and loving. It was hard to believe that they had been married for so long…it seemed as though it were only yesterday that they had been wed on the ship carrying them to the safety of Canada, away from her oppressive parents (rest their souls) and family.
"She is but a child," he declared, frowning as his wife smiled up at him. "She is too young to know of this sort of thing."
"Darling, Bianca is nineteen years old. Besides, my brother was married at that age!" Clara replied, her hands going up to straighten his shirt collar, even though it was late and there was no one to see it. The children had all gone to bed, leaving the older Rousseau's to themselves that evening.
Still frowning, Erik indulged his wife, allowing her to tidy him up. He had been in a distressed state of mind since this morning, when Bianca had asked if it would be alright for her to invite someone to dinner. Thinking it was a new friend of his eldest daughter's, Erik had immediately agreed…only to regret it after hearing that it would be a young man coming to supper!
"Erik, sooner or later you are going to have to understand that the children aren't children anymore," Clara stated, her hands sliding down to rest on his upper chest. "They are growing up, and sooner or later, you're going to have to realize that perhaps this young man and Bianca are not just friends, but are, in fact, something much more than that."
At this point, her husband was on the verge of growling his annoyance at the situation. Like any father, he did not want to see his child grow up, and as Bianca was his eldest daughter, he soon had to face the fact that men did, in fact, want to court her. Good lord, this must have been what his wife's parents (rest their souls) felt like when he was trying to court Clara!
At this point, his beloved Angel was still talking. "Nicholas and Charles are going to turn seventeen soon, and they already have a flock of fine young girls following them everywhere they go."
"Well it's not as though they are discouraging it," Erik muttered, raising his hands to lie on top of his wife's. "Those boys are too handsome for their own good."
"Only because they are the exact image of you," Clara declared, smiling. "Every time I look at them, they remind me of how dashing you looked when I first saw you."
"Except their eyes are different from mine," Erik emphasized. "Nicholas has darker green eyes than Charles does."
She merely laughed as her hands pulled free of his and instead drifted around his neck. "If it weren't for Charles' pale green eyes, we would never have been able to tell the twins apart."
"Too true," he muttered, remembering all of the confusion the boys had wrought when they were young. "If we hadn't discovered that little difference, we would still be unable to tell who was who!"
Light, bubbly laughter flowed from Clara's lips, the sound and action drawing Erik's immediate attention to his wife's lovely mouth. Not waiting for her to calm down, he leaned forward and pulled her into a loving embrace just as his lips met hers in a blinding kiss. The instant their bodies connected, Clara went limp against him, her arms tightening around his neck as she fully returned the kiss. Erik didn't even attempt to hold back a groan as his grip on her increased, needing to have her as close to him as possible. A moment later, they separated, gasping to catch their breaths.
"It's a little late in life to be starting a fifth child," Clara whispered, her head tucked between his left shoulder and his neck.
Erik shuddered at the feel of her breath on his neck's bare skin. "It's never too late," he replied, not releasing her from his firm grasp.
Clara chuckled. "I doubt that Lily would appreciate being an older sister at sixteen," she said, nuzzling her husband's neck.
"Bother what the children want," Erik growled as he swept his wife up into his arms to carry her upstairs.
His wife squeaked a small protest as he whisked her away to their bedroom.
The next day was pure chaos as the Rousseau family awaited their dinner guest. The family itself was nervous, but otherwise calm; the servants, on the other hand, were in a slight state of panic. While the family members were preparing themselves for the evening, the staff members were rushing to get things prepared; maids fluttered around, cleaning everything twice to be sure that it looked perfect while the cook ransacked the kitchen to prepare the best meal that could be had in all of Italy.
"Penny, be a dear and help Bianca with her hair," Clara said, shooing her maid out of the room she shared with her husband. "I can do this myself, and if I can't, Erik can help me."
"Yes, ma'am," Penny replied, heading down the hall to the room of the eldest Rousseau child.
Once she was alone with Erik, Clara closed the door and proceeded to put up her hair. "Now Erik," she said in a lecturing tone. "Please promise me that you won't embarrass poor Bianca in front of our guest." She glared at her husband through the reflection in the mirror. "And don't encourage the boys to do anything, either! I don't need the three of you causing trouble tonight!"
Erik merely blinked at her with innocence written all over his face. "Why, Angel, why would you think that I would do those things to our little cherub?" he asked, tying his cravat into place.
Clara merely sighed and finished pinning up her hair. "Just behave," she ordered one last time.
Erik merely chuckled as he came over and kissed her on the cheek.
Bianca shifted uncomfortably in her seat as she let Penny put her hair into a lovely chiffon-type bun at the back of her head. Lorenzo was coming to dinner in an hour, and she was so nervous, even the slightest thing caused her to nearly jump right out of her green silk dress! Biting her lower lip, Bianca closed her green eyes and took a deep breath while Penny pulled her black hair up and about.
"Don't worry, miss," Penny said in her soft American Southern accent, so much like Mama's. "Your mama will make sure that your pa and those brothers of yours don't try anything, you wait and see!" The dark woman winked at her in the mirror. "Besides, you'll have Miss Lily there to help out, and if there's anyone who can make Nick and Charlie behave, it's her!"
A small smile pulled up the corners of Bianca's mouth. Penny had been nursemaid to each of the four Rousseau children since the day they were born, and had been a confidante of not only Bianca and her younger sister, but also a firm friend of their mother. She was such a good, patient woman that it was no wonder she was able to raise not only the Rousseau children, but also two younglings of her own. Just after Lily had been born, Penny managed to attract the attention of an Italian man named Andre, who had just been hired for a position in the stables. Presently, Penny's two teenage girls were attending a private school some distance away, at the insistence of both Bianca's parents.
"Thank you, Penny," she replied in a soft voice. "I just want Papa to be…well, decent when Lorenzo arrives."
"I'm sure that he'll calm down after a good glass of wine, dear," the maid replied, smiling. "Oh, you look so grown up and beautiful! I can't believe you've got a suitor coming for dinner!"
"Penny! Shhh!" Bianca said, waving her hands around. "You should know better than to say that word!"
"What, you mean 'suitor?'" asked a voice from the doorway.
Lily stood there in a lovely pale blue dress, her loose brown hair pulled up away from her face as her equally brown eyes sparkled. Papa always said that she looked just like Mama did when she was younger, which always seemed to please Lily; she dearly loved her mother and did everything she could to copy the Southern charm that Mama seemed to radiate.
"We all know why dear Lorenzo is coming to supper, Bi," Lily retorted with a roll of her eyes. "Mama certainly suspects it, given that you have been secretly courting for the past three months."
"If it's a secret, how did you find out?" Bianca snapped back at her sister, though her tone was more panicked than angry.
"Because I've seen the way you two look at each other at parties," Lily replied, giving a wink.
Her sister couldn't hold back a groan. "Well, let's just hope that Papa doesn't manage to frighten the life out of him," she said, closing her eyes and praying to God for dinner to go well tonight.
During his life in Italy, Erik Rousseau had grown to be quite famous. His music had swept through the Italian opera scene like wildfire, and everyone who could afford to attend them, did. But his works were not the only reason why he was so popular: tales about his charming wife and lovely daughters also spread across Italy, and men came from all over to see both the ladies and the operas.
Mrs. Rousseau was known for her charming accent, which came from the American South. She had a lovely sense of humor, and her warm smile and light-hearted personality charmed everyone, even those who had been slightly put off by her husband's cold demeanor. The eldest daughter, Bianca, was known for her beauty of pale skin, emerald-green eyes, and the long, straight black hair that, when all of it was combined together, had people calling her the Italian Snow White. Lily, the youngest girl, was considered the mirror image of her mother, both in looks and in mannerisms.
The young men of the family, on the other hand, were mischievous, but were still well liked, especially among the young women. Both boys had nearly-black hair, like their father, and the same green eyes, though Charles' eyes were the light green of new leaves while Nicholas had green eyes that were so dark they were nearly black. Although they tended to play practical jokes on anyone who caught their eye, the twins made sure that such tricks were harmless, and even had a way of producing something good at the end.
It was through one of these beneficial jokes that Lorenzo Spini, 25-year-old heir to a vast estate and fortune, met their lovely sister, Bianca, the much sought-after daughter of the great Erik Rousseau. It had been the night of another successful opera opening, and the entire Rousseau family had, of course, been in attendance. Lorenzo, like many other young men, had longed to be introduced to (and catch the eye of) the Snow White of Italy. That night, after having a touch too much to drink, Lorenzo had accepted a dare of the Rousseau twins, and had approached Bianca for a dance that night, right under her father's watchful gaze.
The rest, as we shall say, is history: Bianca immediately fell for the tall, blonde-haired, blue-eyed Italian nobleman, and he was equally smitten with her. Both shared the same interest in books, music, and art, as well as the same love of horseback riding. Although many (including Mr. Rousseau) thought that Lorenzo was a "fop," the young man was no stranger to the workings of the world. He had worked hard to become the learned equivalent (or, in some cases, superior) of most of his elders; he had graduated from Oxford with high honors, studied art all across Italy and Europe, explored some of Africa and India, and had done his best to learn about politics. No, Lorenzo Spini was most certainly not a man who was ignorant of the world outside his home, nor was he incompetent!
However, none of his education could help him when it came to being face-to-face with the intimidating father of his beloved. This was why, after their first meeting, Bianca asked to see him in secret. Sensing that this might be the only way to court Bianca without suffering her father's wrath, Lorenzo had agreed; after all, Signore Rousseau's protectiveness of his daughters was legendary, and his hard gaze had driven many potential suitors to look elsewhere when it came to courting young women. In fact, Erik Rousseau merely filled the room with his dark presence, and that was nearly enough to frighten any normal man. If one added the stark white mask that he wore, even the bravest, more daring youth began to shake in his shoes whenever Signore Rousseau turned his hard green eyes on the unfortunate man. His mannerisms were cold to most people, except to those he respected and had high opinions of. Even though Signora Rousseau more than made up for her husband's cool public demeanor with her charm, she could not protect those who dared to flirt with the fair Bianca or charming Lily while their father was watching over them.
And now Lorenzo was faced with the most disturbing task of all: dinner at the home of the Rousseau's, the full family in attendance. Taking a deep breath, he composed himself and knocked on the door, waiting for the inevitable.
The behavior of every single person at dinner that night seemed to revolve around the expressions of one man: Erik Rousseau. Though he was not a tyrant, the air around him seemed to tell others how to behave around him. The servants were silent in their service, and dinner was being consumed in a balance between polite silence and polite dinner conversations revolving around weather, fashion, and the latest parties being thrown in town. Even the rambunctious twins were quiet, though everyone could see that that they were straining to say or do something.
Meanwhile, Erik was studying the man seated to his right. Clara sat directly across from him, at the foot of the table, with the twins on her left and Lily on her right. Bianca sat to Erik's left, meaning that Lorenzo Spini sat directly across from her. All throughout the meal, Erik had watched as his daughter and their guest exchanged shy, flirting glances over the table, and could have sworn he saw Bianca flutter her eyelashes at the man for than a dozen times.
Erik, of course, knew about the romance that had been budding between his eldest child and the Italian heir from the beginning, though they had tried their best to keep it a secret. After all, people talked, and talked loudly when something seemed especially scandalous or exciting, and Erik still tended to use his previous experience as the Phantom to listen in and gain information. After hearing a dozen girls chatter on about how the Lorenzo Spini was secretly courting Signore Rousseau's eldest daughter, Erik had wanted to strangle the young man; when he arrived home, it was Clara who had talked him out of it, if only to keep the blood off of his tuxedo.
"So, Signore Spini," Erik said, swirling his wine around in his glass. Across from him, Clara gave him a look that told him to behave. He ignored her in favor of getting straight to the point and to end any silly formalities. "I understand that you have been secretly courting my daughter."
The young man literally choked on the water he had been drinking and set the cup down onto the table. Clara looked displeased while Bianca looked ready to faint. Eventually, Lorenzo managed to recover himself and smoothed down the front of his suit.
"Um, yes, sir, I have," the younger man declared, taking a deep breath to calm his nerves.
"I see." Erik took a sip of wine, his thumb gently stroking the glass as he set it down on the table. "And why did you not see fit to come to me directly and ask if you had permission to do so?"
"Papa!" gasped Bianca, her eyes darting between her father and her beloved.
He waved a hand for her to be silent. "Well?" Erik asked, glancing over at her suitor, his other hand still holding his glass.
Lorenzo took a deep breath. "Signore," he began, "I am sorry for the deception, but many men know of your protective nature towards your children. I wished, desperately, to know your daughter, and to court her, and saw no other way to do so without suffering your wrath. I knew I would have to face your anger sooner or later, and I chose to actually do something worth receiving your anger for, rather than doing nothing and being treated like vermin simply because I approached her under your scrutiny and openly displayed my intentions towards Bianca."
Erik could feel his left eyebrow quirk. "And what are your intentions towards my daughter?" he asked, slowly uncoiling himself and rising in his chair, like a cobra ready to strike. Inside, Erik could feel his fatherly instincts taking over.
Surprisingly, Lorenzo met the older man's dangerous gaze. "I intend to make her my wife."
Bianca gasped, her hands clamping over her mouth in shock. "Oh, Lorenzo!" she breathed, green eyes sparkling.
"Silence!" Erik hissed into his daughter's ears alone, using ventriloquism. For all to hear, he said, "Tell me why you wish to wed my daughter, Signore, and I might, just might, consider giving permission to your proposal."
Lorenzo took a deep breath. "I wish to marry her because…" He gazed across the table at Bianca. "Because…whenever I look at her and she at me, I see all of my dreams come true."
Glancing over at his wife, Erik could see tears shining in her eyes, and knew that he had lost.
"That was very sweet," I whispered to Lily, dabbing my eyes.
She nodded and touched her napkin to her eyes, as well. Beside me, my two boys looked smug; their older sister was getting married, and it was all because of them…well, mostly.
The rest of the meal passed quickly, the conversation turning towards wedding plans, announcements, and guest invitations. Bianca and Lily were already planning the dress, and my sons were happily planning a large party in Lorenzo's honor. I merely smiled at my husband, who looked as though he'd lost the greatest battle in the world.
Long after Lorenzo had left, I found Erik in our room, his mask laying on a table as he stared at images of Bianca growing up, all lined up on our mantle with the rest of our children's photographs.
"You knew this day would come," I whispered as I changed into my nightgown. "All children grow up eventually. I was only a few years older than Bianca when I met you, after all."
"Still too soon for my liking," Erik muttered as he turned and slid into bed, leaving my half open for me.
I sighed and got into bed, smiling up at him as I lay my head on his shoulder. "Well, actually, that 'too soon' part might have been my doing." Erik glanced at me, eyebrows raised in suspicion. "I might have…asked the boys to introduce Lorenzo to Bianca…without introducing them…"
"Wicked matchmaking woman!" Erik growled as he pinned me to the bed, a smile on his face.
"Well, she deserves to be happy," I laughed, placing a hand on his bare chest. "And you already frightened away so many suitors…besides, I had a good feeling about Lorenzo…"
"Hmm…" Erik said as he kissed me. "Next time," he said against my lips. "Give me some warning?"
"Oh, I don't know…" I whispered. "I rather like seeing you all surprised and flustered…" Erik growled as he kissed me again.
AN: The end!