The Angel and the Phantom
Chapter Five: Beauty in all its Forms
Belle
My hands came in contact with something grainy and it crackled loudly when I touched it. My eyes ached as I opened them. Lord, I must have fallen asleep again, I thought. I finally saw what it was in front of me; a piece of paper already crumpled my unconscious tampering. I propped myself up on one elbow, brushing a few strands of hair out of my face before noticing there was writing on the paper. I started to read.
Mademoiselle,
I am obliged to inform you that anything in my home is for your amusement. The books, the flowers in the drawing room and other forms of entertainment around this house. You may even take a stroll along the lake outside. You are the mistress here now. I shall be back this evening to prepare you dinner. Enjoy your stay here. I'm at your service.
-E.
"I wonder what 'E' stands for?" I asked out loud. I was puzzled, was I to understand that he was giving me run of the house? I managed to pull myself out of bed, and brushed my hair again before steeping outside my room. I began to explore the central room to see what it had in store. The place was built around a collection of ornate couches and armchairs set on Persian carpets. A fire had been lit in the hearth and I wondered how he had managed to install heat, and water here underground. Still it made the whole space feel warm and comfortable. I noticed the wooden table and severing bar at the far end of the room. There was an array of doors on all corners of the room. I went to try them all but three locked. I glance out the door, which lead out of the house, seeing only foggy darkness, and hearing water drip from the ceiling like a cave. He didn't need to lock this door, for I couldn't find my way off of this place if I tried. So I turned my attention to the other doors. One led to a room full of antique furniture. The lighting was dim, and the furniture looked dark and dusty. While the style of the pieces was interesting the room looked like it served no real purpose in the house. I shut the door and decided to look at the shelves of books stacked around the fireplace. I browse through the titles. Each book was bound in red and brown leathers, with gold imprinted titles. The works of Shakespeare, the classics of French literature Hugo and Dumas and even the latest science fiction novel from English writer H.G. Wells "The Invisible Man". Since that caught my eye, I picked it up curled on one of the couches in the main pallor and began to read.
I tried to put aside all me worries that filled my mind and concentrate on reading the story, but I couldn't. My mysterious host, his actions his words danced about in my brain. Even though he was not here, I could not escape him. And I had the feeling I never would be able to keep him from my thoughts. What was happening to me? That a strange could have such and impact on me.
The words on the pages focused and then blurred in my sight. After managing to get through about twenty pages, I decided to stop for a moment and I stared at the roaring fire. The flames danced hypnotically. I could feel my eyelids getting heavy and I wondered what time of the day it was. Being walled up here brought back unpleasant memories of when my family once lived in the château. I would sometimes saw shut in my own room for hours at a time. If my sisters had other girls over, they made sport of teasing me because of my behavior. I kept myself shut away to avoid their torments. The names they called me… I could feel tears welling up in my eyes. Then I felt hand rest upon my shoulder. Startled I jumped and then saw something land beside me. It was sheet music. I turned to see him standing behind me.
"Sorry I didn't mean to frighten you." He said reaching down fro the music he dropped, but I had already started to read it. He noticed this and instead handed it to me. "Do you read music?" he asked. I nodded. "Do you know this piece then?" he inquired. I read that it was something by Bach but the title was not familiar.
"I can't tell by the title really." I replied.
"Well then come I can play it for you." He said holding out his hand. Hesitatingly I took it. "So how is the book?" he asked. I almost forgot I had been reading.
"It's interesting so far, but I didn't get a chance to read much." He led me away from the couch and to the room with the furniture I had seen earlier. I felt nervous and my hand started to shake. He stopped in the front of the door and looked at me concerned. He had traded his all black attire for a gentleman suit touched up with shades of gray. He brushed off my gesture of fear just as quickly as he observed it. He opened the door and when to turn on the gas lamp. I waited in the doorway until the room, was illumined. I didn't realize it before but the room was actually cleaned. Practically spotless as I stepped onto the polished mahogany floors. There were several small chairs of white and cream tones, a love seat, a mantle and a quaint harpsichord, which he took a seat at. Opening the keyboard he spread the music over the stand, his fingers flexed in front of him. I watched him in fascination moving towards him.
"Please have a seat." He said pointing to a chair. I did my eyes still wandering around the room. I noticed even the picture frames matched the color and style of everything. But there was something else. Every frame was empty. They're where only black pieces of paper where photos were suppose to be. It seemed so sad, and I sat and stared at the empty frames on the mantle while he started to play. I closed my eyes and listened. The notes seemed to float around the room, touching each piece of furniture and echoing back into my ears. I dared to glance over as he skillfully ran his long digits across the keys. His hands how could they play such beautiful music that was like the angel's, and yet be human hands. Simple ones like mine. I felt inferior in his presence. He stopped mid-way through the piece and looked at me.
"I'm sorry you must be hungry. I should get you dinner instead of amusing myself with music." He got up to leave, but I stood up in protest.
"No please, don't stop…" I caught a lump in my throat but forced it back. " Playing, I mean. Don't stop your playing. I enjoy it very much. I wish I had learned to play like that. Did you take lessons?" I asked
He gathered up his music and under the shadow of the mask I could see a small smile. "No I taught myself to play." He replied.
"Really, that' wonderful. You make some of today's talent look like amateurs." I said walking to the instrument. I let my hands run across the lid and down towards the keys. With out knowing where my control had gone, I sat down and started to tinker out a small melody that came to mind. He stood back and watched me for a moment and I felt the pressure of him judging me weigh upon my back. I slipped and hit a foul note, but instead of getting disappointed I decided to laugh at it instead. "See what I mean?"
He reached over a hand and his long fingers curled around mine trapping them in a prison. "No, that was quite lovely." He said. "And thank you, that was the highest compliment anyone has ever paid me." I got to my feet trying not to blush. He was so close to me and his scent again creped up to my nostrils.
"So I take it you are not used to accepting compliments?" I noted.
He titled his head slightly. "I can tell you aren't either, mademoiselle." Again I blushed. I was certain he noticed and turned away but continued to address me. "I was wondering what would you like to have dinner with me?" The growl from my stomach could have answered his questions; I still didn't know what time it was.
"Certainly. When will it be ready?"
"Actually it all set on the table right now. I made it while you where reading. You must have been really into that book or something else."
I turned my gaze back to the empty picture frames. "Yes, something else I muttered. My fingers traced over one, but I felt him walk beside me. I faced him as he held the music in one hand and offered me his other arm.
"Shall we?" I let my hand slip under his arm as he escorted me out. Indeed the dinning room table was already arranged with food. True it was no royal banquet but I was filled with food everywhere. Assortments of breads, meats, chesses and to my delight even bowls of fruit scattered about in the middle of the table. He handed me a wooden plate. "I don't entertain much company so I hope this is to your liking. Please help yourself"
I nodded to him and went gathering food on my plate like a starving person. I picked out two rye rolls, several pieces of chopped ham in medium sized cubes. Then came the task of selecting what fruit to have, he had placed out a handful of each, all my favorites. Apples, grapes, oranges and even a small bowl of strawberries floating in cream and sprinkled with sugar. I finally settled on an orange. After having my fill, I took a seat at the opposite end of the table.
Dinner had begun.
A/N: I'm not sure what exactly what fruits are available in Paris in winter, to confess. But Erik is a man of many tricks and surprises.