An extra long chapter, just for you! Please, let me know what you think.
Ch. 26
They had arrived, at last. Estella attempted to catch a glimpse of the estate through the window, but night was beginning to fall and she could only see the illumination of various lights throughout the place, with a few people passing by to disrupt its constant glow.
Erik stepped out of the carriage first and extended his hand for her to take, which she did so with a pounding heartbeat. When she was greeted by the darkening sky that revealed clusters of stars and heard the faint sound of musical instruments drifting through the air, she felt as if she were in a dream.
She could see the large building a short distance away, with many of the windows casting the candlelight onto the small path before her. Guests slowly trickled into the entrance, laughing and talking amongst themselves, and she was ecstatic that both she and Erik would soon join them.
Before they could begin their journey, however; she turned to him with curiosity in her eyes and hesitance in her expression.
"Might I request something of you before we go inside?" she asked softly.
Erik felt the knot of dread in the pit of his stomach as he wondered what she could possibly want from him. He should have known better than to expect the worst from her, but it was etched into his nature to do so. He held his breath and nodded with reluctance.
"Would you mind removing your gloves? They will be rather cumbersome when we dance," she asked.
He was surprised by her question, and mentally breathed a sigh of relief. If the leather gloves were the only accessory that she wished for him to remove then the night would transpire much better than he had expected.
He obliged and left them in the carriage, and once his bare hands were exposed, he could see the pleased expression on her features. How enthralled he was that he could delight her so easily!
Just as they began their walk toward the entrance, he felt the presence of her touch as she linked her arm through his. Her unexpected actions and gentle behavior were something that he was certainly not accustomed to receiving, yet he found himself enjoying it far more than he would have thought. He had always longed to have a woman willingly appear at an event on his arm, yet he never thought that he would live to see the day when it would become a reality.
The two of them were so anxious with nervous excitement at the prospect of enjoying activities that were foreign to them both that they walked on in silence, though their thoughts were whirling and their observations acute. Estella marveled at the various costumes-the glittering and glistening movements of those who walked by-as they stepped through the threshold and into the interior.
Erik was pleased to see his creation in use, and satisfied that the luxurious decor and fine furnishings had done well to complement the structure that he had designed, and he watched Estella's reaction as her eyes absorbed every detail of it. They roamed over the marbled stone and cherry-oak fineries, and even the vastness of the estate was overwhelming in itself to her, as she looked on in awe.
"It is truly marvelous," she said with a grin. "You are the only man who could have built something like this."
Erik allowed his ego to swell and had almost forgotten where he was. He could not take his eyes off of her, and the fact that she had showered him with admiration had made it difficult not to act upon the affectionate feelings that she had stirred within himself.
Estella gazed at the doorway of which she saw many of the guests disappear into, and she could catch a peek of the dance that was being enjoyed inside of that room. Impatient to wait much longer, she asked him if they could join.
"I do hope that you are not a bit rusty when it comes to dancing, for I have been practicing with Marguerite ardently these past few weeks," Estella teased.
'Rusty' is a bit of an understatement, Erik thought dryly. He had neither the privilege nor the opportunity to have a dance, for what fun would it have been when he had always lacked a partner? Of course she had known that he had not the ability to frequent parties or gatherings of any social manner, but she was not fully aware of the extent of how foreign this was to him. This was unconquered territory.
Glancing about the room, he saw laughter and busy conversations taking place; far different was this environment in comparison to anything that he had experienced at the Opera Populaire, for while he had often witnessed similar interactions between the cast members and ballet rats, he had never imagined them to carry on while he was in their presence. He could only remember the terror that would seize them upon becoming aware of him; how he had shocked and scared them when he had appeared as Red Death, or even how simply the gossip about him was enough to turn a person pallor.
But he could see no terrorized looks and hear no horrified shrieks as he walked among them. He simply disappeared into the scene with the variety of masks and costumes that were worn, and nothing about him appeared to be suspicious or curious. It was a relief, for once, not to be noticed.
Erik was beginning to think that the night would not occur as he had feared it would, for instead of watching the woman of his dreams be swept away by another man, she had a firm but warm grasp on his arm and was leading him toward the area that had been designated for dancing. Instead of seeing the large diamond ring that hung about her neck after her beloved had proposed to her, she wore his wedding ring on her left hand. She was his, and his alone, even if it may not have been in mind and spirit.
"Is something the matter?" Estella asked, worried.
He was retrieved from his thoughts and had not even noticed that the two of them had already begun to dance. He cursed himself for not paying better attention, after all; why should he allow his troubling thoughts and bitter memories to ruin the night? He was no longer in the Opera Populaire, and his circumstances were far different. He should at least enjoy the night with his wife while he could.
"It is nothing," he mumbled with a weak smile.
He felt the warmth in his palms, as if they were on fire, as they held her and the two of them spun around the room in a trance-like state. With her hand on his shoulder and his on her waist, and the other feeling her fingers clasped gently around his, he could scarcely think longer on his dark thoughts.
Never had he experienced a woman's touch so prolonged, save for the instances when he had used his music to seduce Christine into an embrace. He was utterly at a loss as to Estella's motivation for having the desire to dance with him, for following his lead with every step, and for her eyes never leaving his, but he was growing rather fond of it.
"I do hope that you feel comfortable enough with me to tell me when something is troubling you," she replied with her brows knitted in concern.
He was somewhat upset with himself to have ever given her reason to worry, though he was flattered that she cared for his troubles, nonetheless.
"It is just that..." he took a deep and shaky breath, "Well, I have never danced with a woman, before. I have read about the techniques, but words and illustrations certainly pale in comparison to experience."
Estella rose her brows in wonder, for with his grace and fluidlike movements that seemed to come natural to him, she never would have guessed that he was inexperienced.
"Then I am certainly pressured to perform, for I must make a good impression," she responded with a playful smirk. "Though I have not had experience, myself."
A part of him had basked in pride upon knowing that he was her first dance partner, and he was grateful for the ignorance of others when it came to the color of her skin, for though he knew that it was selfish of him, he was relieved that he could share with her in new-and perhaps, dare he say, enjoyable?-experiences.
Estella blushed and looked away, for she would never make it through the night without embarrassing herself if she continued to stare at him longer. With him, she felt liberated and comfortable with herself. She had no fear of rejection for the color of her skin, no nightmares of being taken advantage of, and even in his arms she knew that she was safe.
In all of her wildest imaginations, she never considered the idea of being close to a man after what had happened to her, yet she was not afraid of him, in fact; she even longed for his companionship and affection-a fact that she feared would make her out as a fool, for she was not certain as to whether or not it was something that he truly wanted from her.
"Have you been to one of these, before? A Masquerade?" she asked, attempting to make conversation.
She knew that such a ball was fairly uncommon in the area, though she had heard about them being held in other exotic countries, such as France and Italy. She wondered, though, if with his mask he had managed to attend them more often than not.
"Once," he replied.
"Was it where you are from?" she asked.
He nodded. "Yes; at L'Opera Populaire in Paris, many years ago."
Estella's eyes lit up upon hearing the location, and though she did not know anything about this place, she imagined that it was just as grandiose and beautiful, if not more, than the theatres that she had heard about throughout the country.
"Oh, it must have been extravagant!" she sighed dreamily. "Was it a grand structure?"
She had so often daydreamed about traveling to other countries, and she was even a bit envious that he had already done so, and while she had never attended an opera, she could envision a night of magnificence.
"It was, indeed," Erik recalled fondly the designs and sceneries that he had so often enjoyed observing while there. "Very elegant."
"Why did you not dance?" she asked, confused. How could he attend a Masquerade in such a place, hidden from the scrutiny of others in costume, without participating in its festivities?
Erik swallowed the desire to brood on the thoughts of that night with great difficulty, and Estella could see that she had brought up a sensitive topic of conversation.
"You do not have to explain," she quickly added, now feeling the regret of her question. "Please, forgive me for asking."
Erik was touched by her consideration, but a part of him would not be repressed, for his scarred soul wished to have a listening ear.
"You wish to know more about me; well, I shall indulge you in a few details," he spoke, attempting to keep his acidity under control.
His mood had not been directed towards her, but he could hardly pretend to speak in a pleasant tone when remembering.
"That was the night in which the woman whom I had loved wore an engagement ring from another man. I had taken her under my wing as my student for years, I had been the one to make her a success, only to be reminded that she pined for another."
Estella felt hurt at heart from his tale, but she could not help but to wonder at someone being his student. Was she his former musical student, perhaps? Yes, if he frequented an opera house, and with the talent that he possessed, then it certainly made sense.
"She always held a fear of me, and in the end, fear does not turn to love," he concluded sourly.
"I am so very sorry," Estella replied with a downcast gaze.
What could his student have feared? Erik had proven himself a man who would never cause harm to a woman, even when his temper had been violent. He had never made improper advances toward her, let alone even claiming what was his in husbandly rights.
Then she glanced back up at his mask, and she knew that it hid his secret. Whatever was beneath it had caused this fear in others and had been the reason why he had remained hidden all of his life. It was why he was an outcast, just as she was.
But what could possibly be so terrible beneath it to deserve such treatment? No matter what it was, certainly it could not overshadow the man that he was inside; certainly it could be redeemed by the wonderful qualities that he possessed that she had found in no one else! She could not be persuaded to think that there was an excuse for him to be treated as he had, for nothing in his appearance could sully her opinion of him. Vanity was a frightful quality, fleeting in the blink of an eye. Why should one hold it in regard above anything else, when it would be lost over time?
"Is that where you learned to compose and play so well, before you left?" she asked, hoping to steer the discussion in a positive direction. She refused to allow his mistreated past and feelings of self-hatred to soil their enjoyment for the night.
He nodded but remained silent.
"Well, then," Estella smiled to herself, "It was a great loss for you to have left."
Erik was uncertain as to whether she had referred to the Opera House's loss, or Christine's, though he could not imagine that it would be the latter.
Estella precisely meant the latter, and she even had the desire to add to it, 'and my gain', though she would not be quick to say that she had claimed his affections. After all, he was a very difficult man to read, and she feared that she would never know how he truly felt about her-whether it was anything beyond an amiable friendship-or even if he had the capability of loving a woman a second time.
Even after a few moments of silence as they continued to dance, she could see the hint of sadness in his expression.
"I can assure you that I will dance with no one else, tonight," she stated.
Erik did smile genuinely, this time, for he knew that she was sincere in her assurance. She was far unlike any woman-or even person-whom he had met, and even if he should have his usual fears, he could not doubt the way that she looked at him-as if he was the only man in the room, and he hoped that it meant more than it probably did.
Two songs had ended with light conversation and occasional laughter before the two of them had decided to take a small hiatus. Estella led Erik to a corner of the room so that they would not be in the path of those who continued to dance.
"I am parched!" she said as she fanned herself with her black lace handfan. "Do you think that there is water in the next room?"
Erik saw the other doorway that they had not wandered through, and he was certain that he had smelled food and refreshments when they had passed it. Before she could wander off, however, he stopped her.
"Allow me," he said.
She watched him disappear into the crowd and hoped that he would return soon, as the stares that she had recieved once he had left made her feel rather uncomfortable. It seemed as if he had been her shield-either that, or she simply had not noticed the gossip and murmuring throughout the room because she had been previously preoccupied.
Shortly after he had left, she could see him in the distance with glass in-hand as he maneuvered his way back to her. He was stopped before he could reach her, though.
"Excuse me, Sir," a tall man with a mustache stepped in front of him.
Though Estella was quite a distance away, she strained her ears to catch his words.
"I see that you have taken it upon yourself to have pity for the negro, since others would not afford her a dance, but I assure you that compassion could not be better wasted," the man said.
Erik was taken aback by this man's words and it didn't take long for his anger to be ignited. How dare this man speak of Estella as if she were no better than a dog!
"You look to be a man of class, but I only wish to warn you of what others are saying. Perhaps there are far better women who could enjoy your company?" the man continued arrogantly. "It is just...well, I would hate to see you ruin your reputation and there is already talk about-"
"What is your name?" Erik interrupted, attempting to hide his temper as best as he could.
"Mr. Williams," he replied cheerfully.
This 'Mr. Williams' mistook Erik's question for a desire to become acquainted, and so he asked in return, "And you are?"
"Mr. Destler," Erik stated.
Mr. Williams was shocked to discover that he had just encountered the mysterious Architect who had amassed a fortune with buildings such as the one that they were now enjoying, though he could hardly make out the identity of anyone in the room underneath of the costumes, anyway.
Erik extended his hand in greeting to the man, and while it was not a common custom to shake hands, Mr. William obliged him nonetheless. Before he could let go, however; Erik tightened his grip around the man's hand until he knew that it would cause him pain. Mr. William gasped from the suddenly violent gesture, though he would not make a scene of it.
"Mr. Williams, do you know who that woman is?" Erik asked in a condescending tone of voice.
"N-no, I do not," he stuttered as he winced from the discomfort and hoped that his hand would be released.
"She is my wife!"
Mr. Williams' brown eyes grew to be the size of saucers, and he began to babble like an idiot.
"I-I-"
Erik gave his hand a firm squeeze to remind him of his place before he added, "You would do well not to speak of her in such a way!"
"Y-yes, Sir! Forgive me!"
Erik released his hand and watched the man scurry away before anything else could be said, and he turned his attention back to the glass of water that he carried and the beautiful woman who had been patiently waiting for it.
Estella had overheard the conversation and she could hardly believe how adament Erik had been in regards to defending her. It brought a warm feeling to her chest to think that he would protect her, even in the face of strangers.
Erik could not understand why she was smiling so much when he returned, but he was happy to be of service to her and had no intention of mentioning his altercation with Mr. Williams.
After she drank the entire glass of water, she requested that they find an area that wasn't as populated, as she was finding that the air was too stuffy. Because Erik had designed the layout of the house, he was aware of the double glass doors that led to a small balcony outside in the next room, and he led her to it.
Though the winter air was cold, Estella was more than satisfied to have some privacy away from others, as they were the only two to occupy the small area. She walked over to the black iron rails and leaned against them with a sigh. She could see the multitude of colors through the window as she watched the figures of guests inside.
"I was a fool to think that we could belong in this society, even for one night," she sighed. "But I will take advantage of a few more dances, if you are willing, before we leave."
Erik noticed the smirk on her face and he smiled. There was nothing there to hold his interest or to refrain him from leaving, except for her.
Estella cursed the bitterness of the crisp winter air, though she wished to endure it a little while longer so that she might savor their time alone. Of course, the vast night sky painted with stars and how Erik had looked that night did little to persuade her to return inside, anyway.
He noticed how she shivered and he untied his cloak to wrap around her. Estella was dumbfounded by his tenderness, and she stared at his lips, as his face was close to hers while he secured the material around her.
He was such a kind man, and she could not imagine the passion that he had if only he would allow himself to feel it, for she had caught glimpses of it through his music. She mentally reprimanded herself for ever fearing him in the beginning of their relationship, and she wished that she would have known about his good character from the moment that they had met.
Erik pulled the cloak around her shoulders, and his hands never left them afterwards. He found that he could not pull away from her-especially not when she was gazing at his lips. If there was even an inkling of desire from her, then he feared that he would not be able to restrain himself. He could not quite place the emotion in her eyes, but it was enough to cause him to lose his sensibility.
He did not think about the repercussions, he did not think about whether or not it was wise; he leaned in and kissed her. Immediately forgotten was the temperature outside, for neither of them felt cold at all, instead; their lips met with a burning passion that set fire to their veins. Erik deepened the kiss and placed his hands on her face, tracing her jawline with his thumbs. She placed her palms gently on his chest but did not try to stop him.
"What on earth are you two doing?" a woman's shrill voice gasped.
Naturally, the pair pulled away from each other to see the plump and stout elderly woman standing few feet from the doorway outside, with a grimace on her face. She cleared her throat and pointed her nose upwards into the air. A rather large nose, at that.
"I daresay that I am repulsed!"
Both Estella and Erik immediately glared at her, cursing her in their minds for having disrupted their intimate moment. The old hag seemed unmoved when facing their angry stares, if anything, she was more determined to reprimand them as if they were naughty children.
"What in heavens has possessed you to conduct yourselves in such a way?" she waved a thick finger at them and drew closer. "I would expect such from you," she directed at Estella. "But a gentleman?" she then turned to Erik. "Do you see any others locking lips in a public place?"
Estella was beyond perterbed and if it would not cause a scene then she had half the mind to give the woman an earful as well.
While the two of them could not say that their entire night was ruined, for they had enjoyed the dances and each other's company, they could both agree that being around other people was certainly a nuisance, at best. For once in her life, Estella was grateful not to be required to interact socially with others in public on a daily basis.
Erik could only glare at the old croon, wanting more than ever to give her a taste of the infamous Opera Ghost he had once been. His encounters with these guests were taxing on his nerves, and had Estella not been accompanying him, he felt that he would have lashed out without hesitation. Instead, he brooded silently as the lava bubbling beneath a volcano's surface.
His expression softened when he looked back at Estella, and she knew that it would not matter to him what the opinions of others would be if they had resumed their kiss. But she could not say, herself, that she would be able to enjoy it much, what with the screeching voice of this woman chiding them. But how could she make the woman leave them alone?
A plan had formed in his wife's mind, and her eyes widened as she looked at him. She pretended to be shocked, too, and even pouted slightly.
"I daresay, we have ruined our reputations!" she exclaimed hysterically to him. "Did you not know that it is unacceptable for a husband and wife to kiss?"
"Husband and wife you may be, but this is neither the time nor the place for it! You have subjected the host of this party and the guests to rumors and gossip!" the grey-haired woman complained. "Have you no morals at all?"
"What a scandal we have brought upon ourselves!" Estella continued, feeding the woman's dramatic mood. "Now I shall never be welcomed into the circles of others with open arms!"
Erik furrowed his brows in confusion as he noticed Estella's giggle that had escaped. While she might have found this amusing, he was growing more and more tempermental by the second.
Estella then turned to the snobby woman with a look of concern written on her countenance. "Perhaps it is best if you return inside before anyone spots you in the company of such delinquents, after all; you would not wish to sully your good character by association, would you?"
The rude woman's eyes widened and she stated harshly that she couldn't agree more. She then quickly returned inside, so that no one would see her speaking with them.
Needless to say, the two of them were growing tired of the useless company of strangers that night, and Estella suggested that she had an appetite.
"I would like to fetch a few refreshments for myself, if you do not mind terribly," she announced to him.
She noticed the displeasure on his face, and she did the only thing that she could think of to assure him that all had not been soiled for her-she kissed him quickly on the lips when she was certain that no one was looking.
It had only been for a brief moment, but it was more than enough to calm him down, and he stared at her in wonder at the miraculous power that she had over his mood.
"Perhaps you could wait for me here, so that no other people with loose morals will steal our secret place?" she suggested.
He refused and stated that he did not wish to leave her unattended, especially not with the behavior of others. He would not be able to contain his anger if he should see another gawker or pompous nitwit, again.
"It will be but a moment, and I certainly do not wish to stay inside for long with those people," she persuaded. "Do you have it in you to suffer a bit longer for me to eat and to partake in a few more dances?"
He was surprised that she still wished to spend time with him, and how could he possibly refuse such a proposition? He would have endured physical pain or torture if it meant that he could dance with her or kiss her again!
"It could hardly be considered suffering," he smiled a toothy grin, despite himself.