Eva sighed happily as a cool sea breeze wafted through the sheer voile curtains of her guest room window. The salty, briny air cleared her head and the wind cooled her skin. This place was heaven compared to the stifling heat of her family's landlocked country estate. She felt free and truly happy for the first time in weeks.
Jonathan had given them the grand tour of the estate, and then directed them to their respective rooms. He and Freddie had then run off somewhere and left her to her own devices. Celeste had busied herself with unpacking straight away and setting out a gown for that evening's dinner. Everything was wrinkled from the journey and her maid tutted over every crease and fold as if they were a personal affront.
A knock sounded at the door and startled both girls from where they stood.
Celeste looked to Evangeline who shrugged. She was not expecting anyone. It seemed unlikely that either Freddie or Jonathan would peel themselves away from one another before the evening meal.
The maid left the dress and its wrinkles to open the door just a crack. "Oui?"
"I've come to escort your mistress to her music lesson," Erik said through the crack in the door.
Evangeline cocked her head, surprised, as she pulled the hat pin from her hat and set both aside on the desk by the window. Did he really mean for her to join him for their afternoon lessons today? After all of that traveling?
"Mais non, ma maîtresse est fatiguée," Celeste refused as she shook her head and made to shut the door in his face.
Erik's hand gripped the edge of the door and pushed it open wider instead.
"Your mistress is not so tired that she can not manage a half an hour of piano," he contradicted. "I really must insist."
"It is alright, Celeste," Evangeline called out as her maid looked at her in panic. She had to keep herself from grinning like a madwoman as the door widened further and Erik hovered on the threshold of her borrowed room. Would he burst his way into the room and haul her out if she refused? She was nearly tempted to put him to the test and see just what he'd do. Her stomach fluttered wildly as he regarded her quietly from the doorway.
"You take your duties very seriously, maestro," she kidded as she crossed the room and tucked her arm through his. She clasped her hands together around his arm and leaned against him fully, and she smiled when he tensed.
"I have a job to do," he deflected warily.
Evangeline grinned up at him. She just couldn't help herself when he made it so easy like this. "I wonder if you give such rapt attention to all matters in your life," she murmured in a knowing tone of voice as they made their way down the hall towards the music room.
She hadn't thought that it was possible but he stiffened against her even more. He'd been doing that so much lately. This entire last week he'd been cool and aloof. But she saw the way that his eyes tracked her. She knew that he was not unaffected by her. So why the newfound hesitation and resistance? She thought that they were past all of this.
Erik led her down the hallway to the music room that Jonathan had showed them earlier in their tour. It was smaller than her family's music room, but it held the requisite piano so it would do just fine. Evangeline leaned against him even more and lowered her voice to barely above a whisper so that he would have to strain to hear her.
"Or am I the cause of this... special interest" she inquired as she plastered an inquisitive, sincere look upon her face.
He glanced down at her from the corner of his eye but was silent as he led her over to the piano and motioned for her to sit alone as he took his place standing beside the instrument.
"Why so silent, good monsieur?" she pouted at him a she lifted the lid off the keys and set her thumb to middle C.
Erik cast her a withering glare as he tapped the sheet music in a silent command.
Evangeline glanced at the papers and stifled a groan. Bach Prelude No 1. She hated Bach. Well, now he was just being petty. She cut her eyes up at him and saw that he seemed terribly pleased with himself.
"As my maestro commands," she said snidely as she began to play the song. It came out just as terrible as she expected it would. She really hated Bach.
His feedback was short and clipped as he leaned against the piano and stared at everything in the room but her.
She played dutifully until the half hour was passed and finally he turned his head to look at her.
"Have you picked your recital piece yet?" he asked.
Evangeline let her fingers pause as she stroked the fine, glossy wood of the piano.
"I was thinking of Tchaikovsky," she admitted softly.
He raised a brow as his amber eyes met hers. "A fine choice. Any piece in particular?"
"Song number seven from his Album for the Young," she answered as she carefully kept her expression neutral.
His face scrunched in confusion as he considered her for a moment.
"Play it for me," he commanded.
Evangeline set her fingers back into place and let the slow, sad song begin. She was only two bars in when she saw the shift on his face as he recognized the tune.
"The Doll's Funeral? Be serious, Eva," he chided her as he reached forward to grab the papers from the piano's stand and tucked the stacks of sheet music away into a leather folio.
She glanced up at him at the use of her nickname. He'd grown so distant lately, yet he used her nickname like they'd been lifelong friends. He'd held her at arm's length for the past week, but then he stared at her like she was the only other person in the world. He'd been avoiding her, but then he'd sought her out. She wondered at his newly acquired internal conflict, at this new reticence that made him decline after-dinner-drinks in the study and afternoon walks in the garden. He'd always accepted the invitations so easily before.
But mostly, she wondered why she cared so much. Was it this man in particular who she wanted? True, he'd been the first to really catch her interest. But surely he couldn't be the only one. Her confidence wavered as he looked at anything but her as he organized his folio of music. Was she really just a job to him? Would he leave, once he had finished? Should she feel this hurt at the idea of it all?
"I am always serious," she mocked as she let her fingers drift lightly along the lipped edges of the ivory keys.
"Hardly," he snorted as he closed the folio and wound a cord around it to hold it all together.
She glanced up at him sharply. Was that it, then? Did he think that she was lying? Feigning her interest in him? True, that may have been how it had started. She'd teased him to make him nervous so that he would want to leave. But that was hardly the case now.
Freddie had asked her once what she saw in the strange, masked music tutor. She had said that he'd merely caught her interest and she found him to be an amusing distraction. That was true. But there was more to it now that she hadn't wanted to admit out loud to anyone for fear of making it all too real. She liked Erik because he looked, on the outside, as broken as she felt inside. Her eyes flickered to the mask as she surveyed his face and posture for any hint of his emotions. She'd always been good at reading people. He was simply a little harder than most. But she had always enjoyed a challenge.
When his eyes slid back over to her she saw the wary look of trepidation on his face. His posture was stiff. Clearly he'd known that she was staring at him. But his eyes met hers evenly in a silent challenge. He dared her to look. Yet there was hesitation around his eyes and mouth. His lips were pressed a little too thin and he looked like he was waiting for a trap to be sprung. Did that make her the predator, then, if he was acting like the prey? The idea made her want to laugh, but she knew that he would take it wrong and it would ruin everything right now. Did he have any idea how uncertain and unsure he made her feel?
Evangeline stared at him openly as she considered this strange, enticing man before her. What cruel, young, beautiful thing had made him so afraid of women? She saw his worth. Was she the only one who could see it? The idea was not entirely unappealing. Let them all keep their handsome, summer husbands to themselves. Those men bored her and made her want to scream. No, she wanted this beautiful, dark creature for her own.
Now, how to win him to her?
His expression stiffened even more as they stared one another down. She'd been gawking at him for far too long now, and he looked as if he was ready to bolt at any moment. So Evangeline made her decision quickly. She set her fingers back into place on the keys and began to play again. Her fingers fell into the familiar patterns as she shared something with him that she'd never even shared with Freddie. It had always just been hers, before. But perhaps… perhaps it could be theirs? The idea made her stomach flutter and her heart race nervously.
She wrapped the both of them in music as she played her lullaby for him, and when the song ended she bridged it back around and began it all over again in a higher key until it sounded like a faerie glade in the little seashore music room, as if Queen Titania could stride into the room at any moment on the arm of her horned King Oberon.
Evangeline glanced back up at him and saw the confusion on his face as he watched her play.
"What is this piece?" he asked. "I've never heard it before."
She glanced back down as her hands played the familiar song. Evangeline had committed it to muscle memory so long ago. Her heart flopped into her stomach as she found her words. If he was unkind now, then it would all be for naught, but at least then she would know where they stood, one way or another.
"This one is mine, actually," she answered softly as her playing diverged into a more elaborate bridge and the song altered once again.
Erik was staring at her with rapt fascination as if he'd never seen her before and the expression on his face bolstered her courage.
"I am always serious, Erik, especially when I am lying. For instance, when we first met I told you that I was a passable pianist. I lied, I am proficient. I merely prefer to play when no one is listening."
He stepped around the piano and she paused her playing in order to make room for him on the bench.
"Don't stop on my account," he said as he sat down beside her.
Hesitantly she set her hands back to the piano and picked the song back up exactly where she'd left it. It was easy enough to do when it felt like an old friend.
Four more bars of the song passed and then he turned towards her on the bench. "You should play this, then, at the recital," he insisted.
Her playing stopped abruptly as terror filled her. "No," she refused vehemently.
Erik stared at her in confusion. "I don't understand," he admitted finally after a long moment.
Evangeline pulled her hands from the keys and set them in her lap as she considered her words carefully. She desperately needed him to understand, and she was terrified to muck it all up. She bit and teased her lip as she found five different ways to phrase it, and then discarded all of them.
Finally she turned towards him on the bench. "My mother only sees my worth in what I can offer to others. My entire life has been devoted to others. My parents, my siblings, my friends, my tutors... my future husband. I was taught the skills of a proper young lady. I can sew and embroider and tat lace. I ride and hunt and shoot archery. But did you know that I also speak three other languages? French, that's typical enough, some Italian, because it's easy to learn another romance language when you know one, and Russian, because they have the best swear words and I liked their drunken alphabet."
Erik laughed, and the sound of his rolling, infectious laughter startled her from her depressing monologue.
She couldn't help but laugh, too, in return. "It's true!" she protested. "Don't make me prove it," she added cheekily.
"Alright, I believe you," he relented once he'd stopped laughing.
Evangeline smiled up at him before she looked away. Why was it easier to bare your soul when you weren't staring into someone's eyes?
"I learned to play because I was told that I must. But when I started to show real talent at it my mother's interest became fierce and determined. I realized then that the piano would just be another weapon in her arsenal. Another skill to market to someone other than myself. I was never just allowed to enjoy something for the sake of taking pleasure in it. So I pretended to be merely adequate. I chased my tutors away, and I practiced when no one was there to listen. Because finally something was mine. And if she knew about it, then she would try to take it from me, or she would find some way to ruin it."
He was silent for a while as her words settled.
"Why are you telling me this?" he asked her gently.
Evangeline caught his gaze and smiled sadly up at him. "Because I thought that you might understand what it is like for people to see you, and have an idea of you in their minds, without ever really knowing you."
He withdrew from her slightly as if she'd scolded him and she wondered what she'd said wrong. Fear settled into her stomach once more. Had she misjudged him so grossly?
"You know nothing of me or my life," he countered defensively.
She twisted more on the piano bench so that she was facing him better. Her thigh brushed against him and he withdrew to the edge of the bench as if she'd slapped him instead. One hand dropped to grip the edge of the bench as her other hand reached out to grasp his. It trembled faintly in her own, and the knowledge that he was just as frightened right now soothed her just a little.
"I know you," she told him. "I see the man behind the mask."
He leaned towards her and his fingers curled around her own, and for a moment he looked as if he might close the distance between them and kiss her. She wondered how his lips would feel on hers. Would they be soft and sweet, or crushing and consuming? There was a passion that ran deep within him. She'd caught glimpses of it on occasion. And it terrified her in the most pleasant of ways. It set a fire deep inside of her that she'd never felt before.
"What game is this, now?" he asked, suddenly suspicious as he leaned away from her and let his eyes roam her face.
And it filled her with such bitter disappointment. It felt like someone had poured cold water over her head. The budding embers were extinguished.
She'd just laid her soul bare to him. And still, he was unconvinced. Disappointment filled her and a lump settled itself in her throat. And suddenly it was hard to breathe. The pricking of unshed tears made her flinch. Was he really that blind to the truth of her? Or perhaps he saw but found her wanting even still. Maybe she'd misread everything because she had simply wanted it so fiercely. She withdrew her hand from his. He let her fingers go and leaned away from him.
"No game," she said truthfully. "I've won her game already. I've found a husband who has no need for a wife."
His brow furrowed in confusion. "Must you always speak in riddles?"
She smiled at him then, but it was false and sad. "Well, you didn't seem to appreciate my honesty or earnestness…" she said softly as she rose from the bench and fled the room without another word.
He called out after her, but she couldn't stop. She refused to let him see how deep he'd cut her. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction of having so much power over her.
Her heart felt like it was shattering and she placed a hand against her breast as if that act could hold it all together. He didn't understand her at all. She had been wrong. Completely, and utterly, terribly wrong. And now it was all ruined and she felt so alone again. She was always alone, in the end.
A traitorous tear slipped free and rolled down her cheek before she could let her cold mask of indifference slide back firmly into place. She wiped it away roughly with the back of her hand as she made her way back to her borrowed guest room in a lovely house that didn't feel like her home.
Celeste helped Evangeline dress for dinner. The evening gown had been pressed and fluffed and she'd snapped at her maid twice already.
Evangeline closed her eyes and forced the unshed tears away through sheer willpower alone.
"I am sorry, Celeste," she apologized when the maid looked at her with wide eyes. "I am merely overtired from the journey. Tomorrow promises to be better," she lied.
Celeste nodded and set out the evening's set of jewelry without another word.
Evangeline looked at her reflection in the mirror and piled her mass of hair up onto her head. She turned her head from side to side to study the effect.
"Pin it up tonight, please," she ordered softly.
"Oui, mademoiselle," Celeste agreed as the girl set the topaz necklace aside and pulled the hair pins out from a vanity drawer.
Evangeline shut her eyes and tried to keep her mind pleasantly blank as Celeste brushed and pinned and coiffed her hair into a sophisticated updo. A few short pieces were left undone to soften the otherwise severe effect.
The maid hooked the necklace into place around her throat, then handed the matching earrings over to her. Evangeline stabbed them into place in the holes in her ears and nodded at the effect. She looked well enough, even if her eyes lacked their usual sparkle and her smile looked forced.
Celeste made herself scarce without being asked as Evangeline rose from the vanity to pull the sheer curtain away from the window and stare outside. The sun was setting and she took a moment to just look out at the beautiful scenery before her. It really was a beautiful estate on a lovely bit of property. Perhaps in time it would feel more like home. They could summer here, when they tired of the busy London life and all of its smog and smells and heat. It would be just her, and Freddie, and Jonathan. Perhaps the sister if she proved amiable. And it would be enough. It had to be. As the sun disappeared into the rolling waves Evangeline let the curtains fall back together as she turned away from the window.
She was late for dinner.