A/N. - Review, review, review! Thanks for all of the kind ones. This is not going to be an instant gratification sort of story, so buckle up. It may take a while. Oh, and yeah.. I don't own Christine, still. Or Raoul. Or the Erik. Or.. anyone else that you know I don't.!
The evening was cool. A delicate breeze danced through the streets of Paris, flirting with the gauzy layers of ladies dresses and playfully tipping men's hats. Elizabeth felt exhilarated as she tiptoed through the kitchen. She had not mentioned her outing to anyone, and had waited until the house had calmed for the night. It was dark, and she did not even dare light a single candle to guide her. Instead, she creeped slowly along - a small hand extended to warn her of any impending danger. Without event, she managed to arrive at the door which led to the atrium betwixt the main house and the servants quarters. She cast one last glance back into the dark house, and then slipped out the door - holding her breath as it clicked into place. Stepping into the yard, she felt the lilting winds embrace her and shivered involuntarily. She should have brought a cloak. The dark door loomed before her, and she decided she would make do without it. She could not risk another trip through the dark domain. Instead she turned, and sprinted toward the stables.
Her favorite steed, the black stallion her father had bought for her when she was younger, stamped at the earth in his stall. It was as though the beast could feel her excitement as well, and yearned to run free. Elizabeth whispered softly to him as she led him from the stables, and a good distance away from their home on foot before she mounted. It was terribly late, and she half expected that Nicholas would have already left.
It was not far to the point in the road where he had nearly caused her to be trampled underfoot by her own horse, not so many nights before. She rode quietly, urging restraint in her companion as he snorted eagerly.
"Quiet, Zeus. You'll have us both found out. Not much further."
Her voice was soft and comforted her against the silence that seemed to consume her. She shivered once more, but not against the chill. The darkness suddenly seemed so desperate.
"Nicholas?" She called, her voice tinged with more than a little hope. Silence greeted her. Elizabeth cast a glance behind. If he had already left, she should return as quickly as she could manage. These roads were notorious for being traveled by thieves and the like, and she was simply a woman.
The horse beneath her shifted, and Elizabeth could feel the difference in him. Frightened, she turned quickly to face the road before her, only to see a cloaked figure with his hand looped around the reins that she had allowed to go slack. He began to lead her horse a bit further down the road, and into the bush.
"Nicholas?" She repeated, warily. Why would he not answer her. The figure turned, and lifted his head. For a moment, she could see the icy blue of his gaze and he lifted a finger to his lips. His task resumed, and he led her mount along a path Elizabeth had never noticed before. It would dangerously close to the main road, but was obscured by the overgrowth. It was narrow and ill-used, and suddenly Elizabeth felt as though she were being taken to a secret place. She could only watch, feeling quite the helpless child, as the broad shoulders of the man before her swept her away from any security. No one would ever find her here.
Should she be afraid? The thought had not yet crossed her mind. Would Nicholas harm her? She knew very little about him, but the twisted emotion that turned within her had no hint of fear. She smiled, contemplating the discussions they had shared.
"Elizabeth."
He had spoken, that languid voice which soothed her soul. It broke her reverie, and she glanced down to find his hood brushed back - and he was staring up at her, hand extended. The dirty image of him in the hours before was replaced, and he was once again the near gentleman who had rescued her from the hands of drunken lust. His hair was combed back smoothly, the dark velvet pressed against his face. Without hesitation, Elizabeth took his hand and slipped easily from the horse.
"Where are we?" Her voice was hushed, feeling as though the secret would be shattered if she spoke more loudly.
"A place I like to come, often. It really is beautiful.."
They were surrounded by weeds, tall ones - with irritating insects that threatened to burrow into the folds of her skirt did she not move quickly enough. The ground beneath was uneven and rocky, and Elizabeth cast a wary gaze up at him. This was his secret place? He simply chuckled at the obvious confusion written across her lovely face, and (still grasping her hand) turned to lead her through the thrush. Finally, they reached the embankment. They were near the pond, the very same one they had passed in the days before as he had ushered Elizabeth and William about in the cab. This was a portion of it that she had never seen, though. The waters disappeared into what seemed swampland, and was then swallowed up by trees.
Just beyond those trees, however, the water continued into a sort of alcove. The latter part had been neglected and was not populated with all of the benches and entertainment as the rest. It had, however, a serene beauty. Flowers grew wildly and untamed, claiming whatever land they wished without the pruning touch of man. The moon was nearly full this night, and it seemed as though it had chosen to hang just above their secret encampment - it's blue light reflected dreamily off of the still waters.
Elizabeth was breathless, her lips parted in gasp. As she looked over the sight before her, Nicholas watched her. Her nose was pert and cute, he mused, and the reflection in the depths of her gaze was compelling. This woman epitomized beauty in a way he would have never imagined possible.
"Oh, Nicholas.." she finally spoke, the sweet and languid melody of an angels song. Her fingers squeezed his. "It is marvelous."
She finally glanced up at him, and their eyes met. Each trying to read the other, curious. A shiver coursed the length of Elizabeth's spine, and she sighed a pleasant sort of sigh.
"You should have worn a cloak," Nicholas echoed her previous thought, as he shifted his own from his shoulders and placed it upon her.
"Thank you," she smiled, suddenly feeling nervous again. It was only then that she noticed the blanket he had spread out for them. He gestured for her to sit, and she did. He offered her a mug, gracefully settling a respectful distance away from her on the blanket.
"I don't care for alcohol much. Do you mind terribly?"
Elizabeth felt surprise. She had never known a man who did not enjoy spirits. "Of course not. I find it mostly distasteful as well. What will we drink, then?" She giggled, a girlish sound that made her seem young. Nicholas smiled at the expression.
"Chocolate. Well, sort of." He poured her a glass of the milky chocolate mixture, and settled back to watch her taste it. Her eyes widened.
"It is decadent! Where did you find this?"
"In the townships," he smiled. "Sometimes peasants have delicacies even before the rest of you."
His comment, though intended lightly, caused a sort of tension between them - as Elizabeth remembered the events of earlier, and his station.
"Why didn't you tell me?" She queried softly, sipping still at the drink.
"Tell you what?" Was his simply reply.
"That you.. Where you.. What you do. I mean, who you are."
Nicholas glanced away, towards the water. "Why does it matter, dear woman? You wanted me to put off discussion of music and poems, and instead fill your mind with thoughts of my horrid past? Instead of the beauty of a rose we should have discussed the life of a poor orphan, never knowing a mother or father. Despised by the world, sold into slavery. That is what you would choose to fill our time with? No, sweet Elizabeth - I would choose otherwise." He smiled sadly, but did not glance toward her.
Elizabeth shuddered, even beneath his cloak. "I am sorry," she murmured, reaching to place her hand upon his forearm. Her voice was heavy with compassion, pity.
"Do not pity me," he hissed through clenched teeth. It was abrasive and made Elizabeth recoil her hand. "I am a man, Elizabeth. You would demean me with such an emotion. Please." His last words softened, and he turned to look at her once more.
"What did you need, earlier? Why did you find me?"
Elizabeth had forgotten that she had a purpose for her visit. So thrilled at the idea of spending more time with him, the forbidden fruit, the reason behind it all had evaded her.
"Oh. Yes. I lied to my family, Nicholas, about what happened. I did not want it to turn into such a scandal. I have made it clear to William that should he ever do another thing out of line that I would tell in an instant. For now, I made up the details. I came to ask for your silence."
Nicholas felt, for a moment, dejected. Of course it had been related to the incident. Why would such a lady come in search of his mere company? He had been a fool to have hoped such a thing. He nodded simply.
"I have already spoken of it, Elizabeth, to my... Lord." The statement made him feel small in her presence, and he shifted uncomfortably. They lived in two different worlds.
Elizabeth seemed frightened. "I will seem a liar, then! Whatever shall I do?"
Nicholas patted the hand that she had returned to his arm. "I will speak with him, it will be fine."
The calm in his voice assured her, and Elizabeth fell into a comforted silence.
"I enjoy you, Nicholas. It makes no sense. Why are you so different?"
He could feel her fingers tremble as she touched him, and knew that she had spoken out of turn. He doubted the little dove perched beside of him had ever spoken so openly to a man before.
"How am I different, mon cher?" He was, admittedly, intrigued - a part of his soul elated at her interest.
"I'm not sure," she replied, glancing out over the waters again. This was awkward for her, and she was thinking aloud more than anything.
"I enjoy you as well, Elizabeth." Nicholas finally responded, after several moments of silence lapped betwixt them. Settling into a comfortable, silent togetherness - Nicholas idly stroked the knuckle of her thumb - which still rested upon his arm.
"Did you really lose both of your parents?" His companion queried.
"Yes. My mother died in childbirth, and apparently my father did not know or care enough to save me. I lived in an orphanage all of my life." There was little remorse in his words, they were quiet and numb. Elizabeth felt sorrowful for him. She watched his face in the moonlight, so handsome and appealing. She longed to touch it, to feel the strength beneath her fingertips. The bane of curiosity welled within her.
Christine seemed terrified. "Did he wear a mask, Elizabeth?"
"Yes, Mother. I believe so.."
"You are never to see that man again, do you understand me?"
What secrets did it hide? What would she find, if she could simply lift the soft material from his face? Would he hate her?
"Why do you wear the mask, Nicholas?"
Nicholas stiffened. He had known this would happen, but he had not imagined so soon. He had hoped to spend as many precious moments with her, before she would be frightened and run away.
"Do you really want to know me?" He plied, his gaze suddenly intense and heated as it met hers. Elizabeth felt her throat tighten, and licked nervously at her lips. She felt as though he could consume her, and she was not entirely sure she'd struggle.
"Yes," she choked out softly.
"Then you shall..."