chapter 9
Later that evening, Isabelle and Erik sat in the library reading by the fire. Both were very content and the tension between them had dissipated. Erik was reading a book on architecture, whereas Isabelle was reading Wuthering Heights. Both enjoyed each others company very much, even if neither talked. Isabelle had been thinking and wanted desperately to tell Erik something, but was afraid to break the peaceful silence.
"I think I was a disappointment to my mother," Isabelle blurted, feeling ridiculous for saying out loud.
"Pardon?" Erik said, obviously confused by his expression.
"I think because I lived and my brother, my father's heir, died, that I disappointed my mother, because I was useless to the family name," Isabelle said, "I believe my father was not affected by the feeling, he treated me the same as he had before Jean died, my mother was kind, but I could see it in her eyes. There was always a look of disappointment shadowing the love. It's my fault my father's name will eventually die out and we will no longer be known."
"Isabelle," Erik started, "I do not think your mother was disappointed, you're beautiful, smart, and talented, what more would your mother want?"
"She didn't care about any of those things!" She said, near tears "I was only offered things so I could marry well and would behave well at social functions. My mother only wanted that from me, everything else was for my brother, he was going to have the best education, have many talents, and marry some beautiful girl and have more heirs for the family! Nothing I did mattered after he died!"
Finally getting everything she felt out of her system, Isabelle dropped her book, stood up and walked away, sobs wracking her small frame, headed towards the music room in the manor. Leaving Erik confused. Deciding it best to see Isabelle and calm her, Erik made his way slowly to the music room.
Before entering he heard Isabelle sobbing hysterically, he knocked and slowly opened the door. He found her at once, sitting on the piano bench with her head in her hands, her dark hair covering her face. He sat next to her and she broke down. Burying her face in his shirt and clutching his jacket she let the sobs come freely. Erik, having never really comforted someone, awkwardly rubbed her back, hoping it would help calm her. Finally her sobs gave into small hiccups and still in his gentle embrace, Isabelle looked up with puffy, bloodshot eyes.
"Erik I am so sorry, I just felt like I had to tell someone, it was only me in my house and I never was able to tell anyone" She hoarsely said.
"Shh, Isabelle it is fine, honestly, you listened to my dreadful past, I will always be here for you to talk to." He promised, meaning more than what it sounded like.
"Do you mean that?" Isabelle sniffed.
"Absolutely." He said and they sat there for a moment of content silence, Isabelle's head resting on Erik's shoulder. Isabelle did something unexpected though, she reached down slowly, and grasped Erik's hand. Erik understanding her, took her hand a brought it to his lips, letting a kiss linger there.