A/N: Awkward dinner is a go! Enjoy!
Angeline was enjoying her relatively quiet afternoon with Cecilia, though she wished Erik was there with them. She had been so close to telling him, the words just perching on the edges of her lips, waiting to be set free, when he had told her to put them off until tonight. She shivered at the memory of his voice in her ear. She had felt like her every nerve was electrified and firing all at once, while her mind was lulled into a soft embrace by his serenading tone. His little hint at singing had nearly sent her over the edge of she knew not what. It was like walking through a field of velvet dreams.
Cecilia's voice brought her out of her daydream.
'Angeline, are you alright?' She asked, hiding her knowing suspicion.
'Hmm? Oh, yes, I'm fine. I'm just lost in thought is all.' Angeline answered a bit dazedly. 'What was it Phillip needed me here early for anyways?'
'I'm not sure. He's been acting rather odd since last night.' Cecilia said thoughtfully. She did not like how secretive her brother was suddenly becoming.
Just then, as if on cue, Phillip came in, holding a box under his arm and looking excitedly about the room. The second his eyes landed on the admittedly surprised Angeline, his smile grew even wider.
'Angeline, I'm so happy you're here. I have something for you. I hoped you would be willing to wear it for dinner tonight.' He held out the box proudly.
Cecilia snorted a laugh as Angeline looked at him sceptically. 'Deartháir, you look like the Cheshire Cat.' She laughed even harder at his momentary confusion over the reference.
Angeline busied herself with opening the package while the siblings poked fun at each other. Her heart felt like it would stop when she revealed the gift. Laying in the box was a wonderfully embroidered dress of the purest white satin. She heard her breath catch in her throat as she lifted it up. The sleeves were long and of a sheer silky fabric.
'I know the white's a little formal, but I thought you would look stunning in it as you do everything else.' Phillip encouraged, not picking up on the horror stricken look on her face.
'Phillip, this is very generous of you, but I-'
'Anything for you, my dear.' He said, passing by her to go to the hall.
Angeline felt a wicked look burn into her eyes as she watched Phillip leave them. Her dress still pinched in her disgusted fingers. Cecilia saw the expression and felt a pinching fear begin to grip her. She had always known a darkness crept just below the surface of her friend's smile, but she had never actually seen it…until now. She longed now more than ever that Erik would come. Only he could hope to control Angeline's darker side.
Her prayer was not answered for a few more hours of tense conversation. Cecilia saw him take a step back when he entered the room and saw Angeline in the white dress. She could tell he was in awe of her striking beauty, but it quickly faded when he saw her eyes pleading with his for rescue.
As he stepped forward to save her, however, Phillip swooped in and stole her arm. 'You're right on time, Monsieur.' He said far too happily. Erik was forced to follow behind as they travelled down the hall to the dining room towards the back of the house.
Angeline was placed across from Erik, unable to reach him and trapped next to Phillip and the confused Cecilia. The ever observant Cecilia knew something was wrong, but what exactly was not clear.
Erik watched the muscles in Angeline's neck twitch in her discomfort. She looked like a bird put next to a cat; too afraid to stay, but too close to fly away. It make him burn to think of her trapped in this way. Her eyes held that same fear and plea of help that they had the first time they had met.
Dinner passed slowly, with Phillip blissfully unaware of anyone's discomfort. He had his own plans for the evening, and was only too eager to see them come to pass to notice how stiff Angeline seemed, how murderous each of Erik's glances were, or how insistent his sister's looks were for it all to end.
'You know, Cecilia mentioned that you were blonde when you first met Erik, Angeline.' He said out of the blue.
Angeline cringed at the memory.
'Clearly that's not your natural colour, but would you ever consider going back?' He pursued the topic, only feeling a bit of the heat of Erik's blazing inferno of a stare.
'Over your dead body.' Angeline growled.
Phillip laughed loudly. 'You always sound so serious when you say things like that.' He chuckled.
'What makes you think I'm not?' She looked at him with all of the fury of Hell burning in her darkening eyes.
Even Erik was taken aback by this change. He knew she could be a bit fiery, but this was different. He watched her hand cautiously as it toyed with the handle of her knife.
'Angeline,' Cecilia put in quickly, following Erik's gaze. 'I have been wondering something.'
Angeline did not speak, but only looked at Cecilia, daring her to continue and interrupt her murderous thoughts.
'How did you come by the French last name? I know you said your father was Irish, so how did you get the name Roux?' She asked bravely. Erik commended her for her boldness in the face of such fury.
'It's my mother's name. He took her name when they married.' Angeline replied, softening slightly.
'How curious.' Phillip observed.
'Yes,' she seethed momentarily. 'He came to France to get away from Ireland. He was not exactly a favourite in his family, so he came here. He was a musician and writer, so he did not make a lot of money, but he did make a few wealthy friends who took him to the Opera. It was there that he discovered a passion for the art, and where he met my mother. She was a ballerina, and had gone to see the same Opera the same night. He was struck instantly by her beauty and her poise. What else he saw in her, I'll never know. They sat next to each other through the whole piece, and he knew instantly that they were meant to be. At least, that's what he always told me. I was a child when he told me, so he may have exaggerated a bit. My mother continued to dance until I was born, when she was forced to give it up.'
'What were their names?' Cecilia asked, as Angeline's eyes strayed downward at the sadder parts of her life.
'My mother was Suzanna Roux, and my father was Colm Devlin.' She said, smiling as Cecilia snorted slightly.
'Well, I can see why he would wish to change it.' She laughed. When the men looked at her confusedly, she answered. 'In Gaelic, it means "unlucky".'
'Did your father ever write any operas?' Phillip asked curiously.
'None that he ever finished. He would have me sing the songs he did complete sometimes as Mother couldn't sing very well. I think it had been his intention for me to become a great singer.'
'And I'm sure you would excel at it.' Phillip quickly encouraged, having strong opinions on the subject. 'Don't you think so, Monsieur Erik?'
'I don't pretend to dictate Angeline's personal preference, but yes, I think she would do well…in anything she put her mind to.' He added, looking to her and giving her strength and the first smile he had seen all evening.
'It's not the mind that needs convincing.' She replied. Cecilia and Phillip looked between the two, suddenly noting that it felt like they did not exist.
'Angeline,' Phillip said quickly, standing and offering his hand. 'Would you mind joining me in the living room for a moment?' She saw that same anxiousness in his eye that she had noticed when he had asked for her to walk with him.
'Oh, what about clearing the table?' She asked, looking at the dishes that still needed to be delivered to the kitchen.
'I'll take care of it.' Cecilia said happily, though she was worried about what her brother might have planned. 'Would you be so kind as to help, Monsieur Erik?'
'Of course.' He said, dutifully standing up as Angeline gave one final look of longing as they left the room.
She followed the suddenly exuberant Phillip into the living room, closing the door only partially behind her as she went. He led her into the middle of the room, allowing her to sit in a nearby chair as he paced the floor a bit. She watched him with growing dread.
'Angeline, I've been thinking about this for quite some time, and I believe that my decision is the right one.' He said firmly. He offered his hands and held hers as Angeline stood up.
Erik loomed outside the door, having finished in the kitchen and curious as to what Phillip had planned. He was ready to come in and hopefully save Angeline from her discomfort when he heard her gasp. If it had been a gasp of fear, or even his name, he would have burst into the room instantly, but it was neither. It was Phillip's name. Looking in the crack of the slightly opened door, he felt his heart hit the floor. Angeline was standing before a kneeling Phillip.
'Angeline Roux, you are the most beautiful, talented, and magnificent woman I have ever known. You are an angel, and you look it even more in that dress.' He added with a grin. 'You are a light sent from Heaven to banish and destroy all shadows. Will you grace me with your elegant hand in marriage?'
Angeline vaguely thought she heard the front door slam shut, but it was hard to tell. Her mind was so jumbled she could hardly see straight. She looked down into the sky blue eyes of Phillip as he gazed up at her with that old, bottomless devotion. These were not the eyes she longed to see, not the face she looked to for comfort, not the hands she reached for when scared, not the man her heart cried out to be with.
A/N: Mwhahaha! And you thought the last chapter was mean.