Whoo! 28 (story) years has passed and Part 2 has finally begun!
I had thought I would never get to write the romance...
But don't worry, Little Erik will not be entirely forgotten!
Please let me know what you think!

Part Two

Chapter Fourteen

England. 1800.

'For Goodness' sake! I don't know why they have to have the meeting so early… The sun is not even out yet…' Irritable mutters emanated from a slight figure enveloped by a dark cloak, who was trudging grumpily along a narrow lane in a quiet residential area just outside London. 'I don't have the luxury of living around here unlike the others, so I have to get up twice as early as not to be late…'

The young woman's hood fell away as she yelped in shock and stopped abruptly as the passionate crash of a pianoforte's keys shattered the silence. 'Stupid, inconsiderate idiot! It's five in the mor-'. Lilac eyes widened and her tiredness and irritability forgotten as the 'idiot' disregarded her unheard admonishments and continued playing. She had never before felt such intense emotions conveyed through any instrument. Listening intently she was swept away by the anguish and rage of the pianist, and unconsciously her fingers tightened urgently around her basket and her breaths quickened in synchrony to the pounding beats.

Feeling almost faint as the violence of the rising crescendo of the pianoforte caught her up further into the dark whirlpool of it's player's emotions when the music ended abruptly with a loud 'BANG!'

Nearly falling over, she belatedly realised that the musician must have slammed down the lid of his instrument and not taken a gun to his audience of one. Sighing in almost painful relief and shaking her head clear from the remaining enthrallment, she looked up and stared at the only light coming from the dark, gloomy house. Who was that? What was that?

Sighing again, she ran lightly to the small heavy gate and pushed her finger through her straight chestnut locks before reaching into her basket. Glancing at the pinkening sky, she yelped in alarm.

Disappearing rapidly down the winding lane, she had left a single dark pink rose tucked into one of the ornate swirls of the gate in appreciation of the gift shared with her that dark, chilly pre-dawn day.

Oh Lord, I'm going to be late! But what a wake-up call!