Thank you for the reviews! More emotion/thought process will be revealed in the next chapter to come.
Ch. 10
A part of him, though small, had hoped that she would not arrive. Standing in the narrow area where the grass and foliage had parted, Erik found himself waiting for her in both anticipation and fear.
Though approaching Winter, the air was slightly warm and the breeze was soft as the leaves of the trees sighed with its movement. Erik inhaled the crisp, clean air sharply and nearly held his breath as he began to fidget out of nervousness, smoothing the lapel of his typical black waistcoat.
He could not see the small path that wound around to the carriage that he had taken; all that he could see was the sun shining and fluttering in between the tall trees that hid him from the view of the road. To his back, a few yards away, were the waves crashing against the rocks of the sea far below and over the cliff edge and Mr. Matthews, waiting patiently as a witness to the ceremony. His presence and the sound of the ocean was somewhat calming to Erik's nerves, albeit only slightly.
He had chosen this location because of its privacy, though the sight of the vast sea spread out into the horizon had tempted him with its beauty as well. Even if he could not have everything that he had wanted in a wedding-the multitude of guests, the parties and feasts, and a wife who could love him-at least he could control where it was to be held.
He imagined that, if his circumstances had been different, he would have wished to watch the sunset with her over the emerald green and sapphire blue waters, but he immediately chided himself at such sophomoric daydreaming.
He had even expected her refusal to arrive, after all; what woman in her sane mind would agree to become his wife?
And yet, he still found himself waiting for the carriage to bring her to him, with a man who had been afflicted with blindness for his entire life for an officiant. The poor soul could not have been aware of the heinous task that Erik had paid him for-of marrying a beautiful young woman to a hideous beast.
How the Erik from three years ago would have scorned the idea! How had he grown so soft-hearted and weakened, once more? Could he not have left the woman to be, instead of forcing her to marry him? Was his appetite for power and control insatiable?
Erik felt the guilt begin to form in the pit of his stomach as more minutes had passed. What was he doing to her, by forcing her hand in marriage to him? And if she should follow through, then what would he be doing to himself?
His heartbeat sped up once he heard the wheels of a carriage become audible, and he could faintly see it among the foliage, though it only came in glimpses.
Was this the Lady's Maid arriving to tell him that Estella would not come? Had she run away, perhaps with another man?
Erik was fully aware that Estella had been rejected by society, including being undesired in courtship, but he was not ignorant to the fact that she was still a woman of great beauty. Could not a man overlook the color of her skin, in favor of those almond-shaped brown eyes that held such mystery and power? The full lips that taunted him to kiss her as she spoke?
She could not have gone her entire life without having an admirer of some sort! Erik began to fear that he had led himself to believe otherwise; to believe that she had been saved for him, in a sort of way, since the two of them could understand each other, but perhaps he had been mistaken. Perhaps he had interfered with a love affair that had already been happening, and he would be made a fool on his wedding day because of it.
And yet, he saw the glimmer of ivory among the leaves, and he grew so anxious that he almost wished to flee. If she should see him now, waiting for her, what would she think of him? Would she despise him? Would she wish that it was a man with a normal, handsome face who would greet her at the end of the path?
Erik's mind raced with these thoughts of despair when he could hear the footsteps, and despite his apprehension only moments ago, he knew that it was her. He knew that she had arrived. And the fact that she would, indeed, become his wife scared him out of his wits.
Once she had emerged from the thicket of trees, only a short distance away, his breath caught in his throat. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't think. He was paralyzed with both fear and awe.
She was the very vision of a bride; lace and beaded veil, satin ivory gown, and diamond jewels. The sun kissed her skin in a honey-colored glow, and her brown eyes were looking at him as she drew closer-Him!-and no one else.
She joined him in front of the officiant, though they did not join hands. Erik did not know the customs of a marriage ceremony, nor did he care to know, but he regretted the fact that there would be no sort of display of affection.
Before it began, he was reminded of what he had been holding behind his back all along, and he drew out a bouquet of flowers to give to her.
Estella had been so nervous and afraid ever since she had stepped into the carriage and left her former home that she had even requested a break on the road a few times, as the nausea had threatened to take hold on multiple occasions. She could feel herself tremble once he had come into view and she saw him watching her, waiting for her.
How her stomach had tied into knots the closer she came to him, and even as she stood beside him, it could not rest. Her mind raced with thoughts, and she was both excited and terrified to the point where she wanted to burst into tears.
But when she had seen the crimson-colored roses with stems wrapped in ivory-colored lace, it had somehow brought her a bit of relief. It was as if the soft red petals had told her that everything would be alright, and that she was strong enough to face whatever her future would hold for her.
She took the bundle of flowers from his hands, her fingers brushing his momentarily. That was when she realized that he wore a pair of black leather gloves, and the fear had again been made foremost in her mind.
Had she ever seen his bare hands? It was not as if she had had an encounter with him often, but the more that she had dwelled on the matter, the more that she realized she had not. What was he hiding, to even cover his own hands? She had never witnessed a gentleman to wear leather gloves, especially not on his own wedding day.
The officiant spoke and the words broke her thoughts, but the way in which her brows had furrowed had not escaped Erik's notice.
Was she having second thoughts? Was she wishing to be anywhere than where she was?
Erik could not help but to become alarmed by the way in which her eyes always seemed to scrutinize him. Was she attempting to figure him out, or was she repulsed by what she saw?
The vows began, and he silenced his mind of these troubling thoughts. If there was one moment in which he should ignore the reality then it should be this one. At least he could look at her, take in her beauty and the fact that she had chosen a gown to wear for him, and to hear her become his wife. Even if there could not be any love in it, this was a moment that he would always remember.
Estella's gaze softened when she noticed the way he had been looking at her. This confusing and mysterious man who had kept his emotions and secrets hidden so well had allowed a bit of it to escape in his eyes. She could see the moment of softness in their hazel-colored depths; she noticed the tenderness and pain as he watched her. She could not look away from him, for this was the only time that she had ever seen him so exposed.
Even if she had been terrified by what secrets he was hiding, even if she did not know him, it brought her comfort to see that he was capable of feeling. Though it was nearly unbearable to look at, for she could see a bit of her own pain mirrored in his eyes, she could not interrupt her gaze.
He had a soul, and he had pain. Perhaps he would not be the terrible husband that she had feared; perhaps he had compassion and gentleness buried within him, under those thick layers of secrecy, avoidance, and aloofness.
Erik broke the gaze to reach into his coat pocket and he drew out her ring, before he repeated the words that would forever intertwine his fate with her's.
Estella lifted up her left hand for him though she shook out of anxiousness, as she watched him place the ring on her finger. It felt odd for her to be touched by gloved hands, but she had been too focused on the details of the ring to notice much.
A round golden-colored diamond with clusters of white diamonds surrounding it sat on a rose-gold band, and when it had been placed on her finger, she was in awe. Certainly she was not one to be taken up with material possessions or to give consequence to fortune, but she had to admire the beauty of it, nonetheless.
Erik placed his own ring in her palm-a simple gold circle-so that she could do the same for him. When she spoke the words aloud, she felt that it was not her voice, but that of another's. It was surreal that she was vowing her life to this man whom she did not know, and yet the two of them seemed to be consumed by the moment.
Estella watched as he removed his left glove, taking in the sight of his bare fingers. How strange that seeing one's bare skin could evoke such a feeling of intimacy, as if he were momentarily allowing himself to be susceptible to her.
She carefully slid the ring onto his finger and Erik let out a shaky sigh. He never would have imagined that feeling her hands on his would create such a reaction from him, and the sensation of a wedding ring on his finger felt both strange and exciting.
Once they had been pronounced husband and wife, Erik lifted his gaze from her and set it to the horizon. He was too overwhelmed with emotion to maintain his composure much longer, and the fact that the two of them would not even share in a kiss was unbearable.
Estella was somewhat surprised that he did not kiss her, and for some unknown reason that she chastised herself mentally for, she was a bit disappointed.
He appeared to be struggling with something, but as quickly as he returned his stare at her, the expression had faded. He had successfully returned to the stoic and emotionless man whom she had been acquainted with.
The view of the waters had been wonderful, and Estella was sad to leave it. Now that she was married, she knew that her new husband would wish to return to his estate, and she feared of what would transpire upon arriving there.
Before they left, however; the man who had wed them requested that they sign the documents that stated that they were legally married. Estella signed her maiden name, letting the reality sink in that it would be the last time in which she would be known as Estella Crawley.
Erik thanked the man and gave him a bit of extra money before their departure, thankful that the ceremony had gone smoothly, before they left.
In the carriage during the one-hour journey back to his estate, Erik remained silent and focused his gaze out of the window as he watched the tall grass and passing of trees. Estella observed his demeanor, deciding that perhaps it was not the mask on his face that she should be fearful of. This man was far better at hiding both his identity and thoughts than any other, and she dreaded discovering the reason why this was.
The silence was suffocating, and she found that she had to make conversation with him. He was her husband, now, and she knew that she could not avoid him entirely.
"Are we to travel?" she asked out of curiosity.
She was aware that it was customary for a newly-wed couple to take a vacation together after the ceremony for a bit, in order to have the time alone necessary to become better acquainted with each other.
Erik did not look at her, wishing that the reality could have been different from his response.
"No; I thought that you might value the time to become better acquainted with your new home."
It was not entirely a lie, though the real reason behind their returning home had been because Erik knew that she could not possibly wish to spend time alone with him. Simply the thought of it was torture to himself, even if in a different way than her's, and he would not force his presence upon her.
Estella wondered why he did not wish to spend time with her as her husband, but she spoke no more on the matter. Instead, she asked a question that had been nagging her mind since the day that she had become aware of his existence.
"If I may ask, what is it that you and my uncle do as a profession?"
She asked in the most polite and pleasant voice that she could muster, hoping not to anger her new husband with her curiosity. She did not know of his character just yet, and so she felt that she had to be mindful of her behavior until it was a certainty.
"We design and construct buildings, that is to say; your uncle procures the requests and handles the financial aspects, while I design the structures," he replied.
Estella raised a brow at him in surprise, and he caught the gesture out of the corner of his eye.
"You are an Architect?"
He gave a small smile of satisfaction.
"I'd like to think of myself as such, though at times I question it, myself."
Estella was again surprised at his humility, for she imagined that any other man would have taken the opportunity to boast about his talent, yet instead he seemed almost shy of compliments or attention.
"Well, it makes sense. My uncle has never had a creative bone in his body," she replied. Nor a kind one, at that, she thought bitterly. And of course it was not unlike him to make money and gain off of someone else's talents. "Have you always wanted to be one?"
Erik looked down at his leathered hands, twisting the ring around his finger underneath as he thought of a proper response.
"I have designed rooms and structures for a long time, but it has not always been the focus of my life," he admitted.
Estella wondered what it was that he had meant by his words, and her curiosity was left unsatisfied as she imagined what he could have spent his time on in previous years.
"Recently, I have considered giving up the profession in favor of traveling, but now I am not so certain," he added.
He chided himself mentally for divulging more information about himself than necessary, for he was certain that she did not have a genuine interest in his thoughts or feelings. Of course she was only being polite and making light conversation, though he found it difficult not to have the desire to confide his thoughts in her, anyway.
Estella could not prevent the smile that cracked on her lips as she remembered the fond musings of her younger years.
"I have always wanted to travel," she said, remembering the time when her father and mother had promised that the three of them would see the world together.
"Anywhere in particular?" he asked, enjoying the fact that the conversation seemed to be flowing much more easily than previous encounters. Maybe, just maybe, it was a sign that they could be friends, though he dare not hope just yet.
"I would love to see the countryside of Italy and the Mediterranean. Perhaps visit a few vineyards and view the sunset among the rolling hills," she replied, temporarily transporting herself there in her imagination.
Erik noted the singsong tone of her voice and the smile that brought warmth to her visage, and he too could not help but to smile.
"But I am not particular. When one has been caged all of one's life, then anywhere is better than nowhere," she added.
Erik thought back to his own experiences. He knew very well what it was like to live in a cage, even literally, as painful as it was to remember. Even during his time at the Opera Populaire he had been forced to hide himself in the cellars. And while he had, at times, valued his privacy and solitude, he could not deny that if he had been given another choice, he would have taken it. It had been a life of loneliness, and isolation had not been kind to his wounded soul.
Had he been born with a normal face, he would have lived among the sunlight, as others had. Even in his spare time, he would often escape somewhere alone to enjoy the fresh air. That was why he had chosen an estate with a vast amount of land and trees, so that he could have his privacy but still retain the ability to enjoy his surroundings.
When he had been smothered by the cold and damp air of the cellars for so long, he later discovered the warmth of the sun upon his skin to be a blessing, and it was something that he never wished to live without.
"Yes, it is," he replied softly.
Once they had arrived at the estate, with Mr. Matthews and Marguerite Thorson in tow, Erik stepped out first and assisted his new wife out of the carriage. Estella noticed the strange sensation of grasping a gloved hand once more, wondering if he would always wear them in her presence.
She bit her lip as they went inside, fearing that now was the time when he would show her his true colors. Now he would demand for his husbandly rights, and he would not be kind about it.
But instead, Erik silently led her up the staircase to their right, and she remembered them to be leading to where he had said her room would be. And once he had shown her the door that would open to her quarters, she was surprised to discover that, so far, he had been keeping his word.
He dismissed himself at the door, allowing her time to change clothes and become acclimated to her new surroundings, and he disappeared before she could say another word.
Sighing, she turned around and found herself face-to-face with a cherry-oak door, and it was then that she realized how truly exhausted and even hungry she was. It was not even the evening yet, but the events during the day had proven to demand a lot out of her.
When she opened the door to her room, she was amazed at its beauty. Light blue-colored walls greeted her, along with a beautiful grey-stone fireplace. Two chairs of blue and ivory floral patterns sat beside the lighted fire, and a golden four-post bed sat across. Adorned in sapphire-blue brocade silk draperies and gold tassles, the bed with ivory-colored bed-sheets looked welcoming to her.
On a bench in front of the bed there was a new dress laid out for her, and Marguerite Thorson called upon her to let her know that she would be pleased to assist her with changing her attire or anything else that she should wish for.
Estella insisted that she could dress herself, though she found the corset a bit difficult to manage. In the end, Marguerite assisted her and assured her that there was no trouble at all in fulfilling her duties as a Lady's Maid after Estella had apologized for seeming so dependent. She was still unaccustomed to the use of a Lady's Maid and felt it highly unnecessary, though she was grateful, anyway.
Then she was left to her own devices and she took in the rest of the room. A large golden mirror hung above the fireplace, wood nightstands with oil lamps beside the bed, a vanity and a large armoire in the corners that held multiple new dresses, and teal and gold draperies of silk hung on the two large windows in the room.
It was certainly much larger and more elegant than her previous living provisions, but she still could not erase the shock that had consumed her upon realizing that she truly would not share a room with her new husband, as she was left alone in the room.
Perhaps she truly was undesirable?