Disclaimer: I tried to steal the copyrights to the Phantom, but failed. Therefore, I own nothing except my original characters/places/etc.
AN: Here's chapter two, where we will meet the Erik's love interest for the story. I hope people aren't too disappointed when she's not exactly the image of a Southern Belle, and I hope that she's not too Mary Sue or anything. But even if she is, please don't flame me! All flames will be used to light Erik's candles and to help keep a fire going in my own hidden underground lair. Thanks!
Chapter 2: A Diamond in the Rough:
Biting back a yawn, Erik finished the brandy in his glass and placed it on the tray being held by a waiting server. He was tempted to fetch another glass, but he had already finished his second. It would not do to get drunk at Martha's little tea party gathering, especially when she would never forgive him if he did.
'For such a small woman, she can truly be intimidating when one of her events is ruined,' Erik thought with a hidden grin as he looked at the old woman sitting near her husband.
The last time a young man had overly indulged in the alcohol, Martha had given the lad such a lecture and ultimatum that the boy had begged on his knees for forgiveness. The blubbering and slurred words had made Martha even more upset, but once he had sobered up, she had forgiven him and sent him away, "to think about his actions." Erik had tremendously enjoyed that spectacle, trying his hardest not to laugh at the pathetic fop's situation.
'It's a pity that there isn't such an amusing incident today,' he thought, flicking his eyes around the room, making sure that his gaze did not dwell on one part of the room for too long.
If he could have escaped today's party, he would have. Unfortunately, Martha had been hell-bent on having Erik attend today's tea party, which had practically every single eligible woman in the community present. He knew why he was here: Martha was set on marrying him off to any of the young ladies she was fond of, and would not rest until he chose one of them. At that moment, several girls were fluttering their fans in an attempt to gain his attentions, or to look flirty or seductive. This was why he could not allow his eyes to stay on one part of the room for too long; the young women were everywhere, floating about in their lace and silk dresses, their hair falling about in curls or waves around their heads and necks. If his gaze lingered too long somewhere, a girl would surely enter his line of vision, and if she did, she would think him interested in her. This, of course, was the last thing that Erik was interested in, but each one of them (including Martha) believed that he was merely playing "hard to get."
'And it is those types of girls who just won't take 'no' for an answer.'
Erik snorted in contempt. Some of these young women were far too bold, nothing like how a cultured young lady should act. They were always clinging to him, inviting him to their homes for teas or walks, or trying to trick him into inviting them (or daring to invite themselves) over to his house for some sort of thing or another. A few would have actually succeeded in getting what they wanted, if Erik had not discovered their intentions in time and smoothly slipped out of their grasp (both literally and figuratively).
Growling under his breath, Erik searched for another alcoholic beverage, extremely glad of his high tolerance for the stuff. As he grabbed a glass of red wine, Erik silently cursed his inabilities with the opposite gender. Most of the young men here would be glad to have so many women chasing after them, but all Erik wanted to do was to leave the foolishness behind him and return home. He had already done such a thing many times before, but he doubted that Tom and Martha would allow him to do it this time. The elderly couple was truly a force to be reckoned with, especially when they were doing their best to play matchmaker for someone they considered a friend who needed a wife.
Looking over at the Brooks', Erik bit back a smile. 'If only my parents could have been like them,' he thought, taking a sip of his wine. 'My childhood would have been much happier and much different.'
Finding an open chair hidden by the drapery of the windows, Erik walked over and sat down to enjoy some peace and quiet before he was found.
With six children all born, raised, and married off, Tom and Martha Brooks had nothing left to do except spend their money on parties and buy expensive and elegant knick-knacks for their incredibly large mansion. Most of their wealth had come from generations of farming cotton and crops for the sale to others, with their sons now running the business from their own offices and homes. And since all of their children were in such happy marriages, Martha believed that it was time to match the other young people in the town to someone that would best suit them.
The problem this time was that Erik was proving to be very unwilling, and Martha could not understand why. He was a perfectly handsome young man who was very good at music, and had a kind heart to match. True, he acted as though he detested people, but Erik was always willing to run errands for Martha if she asked him to while he was visiting her.
'And never have I seen a man so cultured, polite, and quiet,' she thought as she sipped her tea, one ear listening to the young girls chatter to her as the other listened to her husband talking to an old friend.
If Erik had been one of her sons, he would have been her favorite. None of her boys was fond of music or books, and all had been rowdy from the moment they were born. A nice, quiet boy-child would have been a blessing, since she'd never had any girls of her own. No, there had been no Miss Brooks' in existence, except for in the present form of her tiny granddaughters. But now Martha felt that this was her chance to make a quiet, shy man come out of his shell of isolation.
'If only he would participate in everything!' she thought, somewhat exasperated. 'Well, I suppose you can't help them all, but he deserves to be happy.'
Shaking her head, Martha turned her attention back to the young girls sitting at her feet and smiled.
'I truly hate tea parties.'
It was the thousandth time Erik had repeated this phrase in his head, and it was still true. There was still an hour left before he could make what could be called a 'polite' early departure, meaning that he had to endure at least another hour of this nightmare before he could escape in a way society viewed of as courteous.
'At least the young ladies haven't found me, which is a blessing.'
The ones who normally tried to pursue Erik were currently in one of two sunny parlors, whereas Erik was tucked in a dark corner of a third. The one he currently occupied was cooler and had only four or five elderly women who could no longer feel comfortable in the sunshine. This, however, did not mean that Erik was fully safe from eligible women. The women presently sharing the room with him were likely aunts, grandmothers, or even mothers with daughters to wed off, and if they spotted him before he left, his freedom was doomed.
Taking a final sip of his wine, Erik set the empty glass on a side table and waited. The servants at the Brooks' home were very observant, and best of all, they both liked and pitied the poor man their mistress was presently trying to marry off. So, during occasions like this, they kept an eye out on him and for him, refilling his glass when others weren't looking and "calling" him away after he was trapped by groups of greedy, flirty young women.
Sure enough, a black maid and butler came in, the man distracting the elderly women by offering cold drinks and tasty snacks in another room as the maid took an unobserved walk around the room, picking up empty glasses and putting them onto a tray she carried. The old women were now rushing out of the room, eager for something fresh to eat and drink, and as soon as the door shut behind them, Erik let out a sigh.
"Is you alright, Mr. Erik?" Tina asked, smiling in his direction. It was his favorite spot to hide in, as this wasn't by far his first tea party at the house.
"Just fine, my dear," Erik replied as he stood.
"Well, that's good," the young girl replied. "My mama says that if you're hungry, she's got a batch of potato pancakes you can have. When you're done eating, you can slip out the back, real quiet-like. Mr. Tom and Mrs. Martha won't be missing you today…too many gigglers in the parlors, you know."
Erik chuckled. "I believe I'll take you up on that offer and plan, Tina."
No sooner than he'd said that than he was out a side door, heading straight for the kitchen. Tina's mother, Becky, had a way with potatoes that made Erik wonder what sort of magic the woman had with spices to make her potato pancakes taste so wonderful. Even Jill expressed an envy to be like her friend Becky, who promised to leave the secret of her cooking only to Tina and Jill when she died (which wasn't likely to be soon). A brief pause before entering the kitchen door saved Erik from having the wood paneling slammed into his face by one of the Brooks' many serving men.
"Sorry, sir!" Clarence whispered when he saw who he almost ran into. "But you might want to go around the other door…those Wesley girls are finishing up in the kitchen. Lookin' for ya, they are!"
Erik quietly groaned and raced the other way without another word. Thankfully, this other entrance required someone to go through the pantry before entering the kitchen, and all of the spoiled young women here would rather cut off their right foot than go through the pantry in order to enter the kitchen. Pausing to listen at the connecting door, Erik heard nothing except Becky giving orders to get back to work, which she would only do after shooing those horrid girls out of her realm. Feeling the coast was clear, Erik slipped into the room and into the welcoming atmosphere of the kitchen.
Within five minutes, Erik was seated at an out-of-the-way corner table, a plate of hot, crispy potato pancakes in front of him, along with a bowl of sour cream for dipping them in. Becky was chatting at him from over the piecrusts she was tossing about on the center island, and Tina was giggling along with the other girls at her mother's words.
"Lord, Mr. Erik!" the older, plumper woman said, her salt-and-pepper curls bouncing under her white bandana. "You sure are a lucky man today! Escaping the old ladies and the Wesley girls, all in a few minutes of each other!"
"He sure is, Mama!" Tina said, grinning at him over her shoulder.
Erik, whose mouth was full of potato pancake, merely waved his fork at her in a threatening, but playful, manner. He knew she was teasing him, though, and did nothing further. Tina was fond of teasing Erik, and had never been afraid of him. She had the sweet, innocent manners of little Meg Giry, but none of the other girl's fear; instead, Tina teased Erik much as a girl would tease her older brother, and had done so ever since she had first saved him from the clutches of a pack of rabid women during his first tea party at the Brooks' mansion. Since then, all of the servants had a secret pact to always 'rescue' Erik, since they knew how Mrs. Brooks could be when trying to play matchmaker.
"Seriously, Mr. Erik, why don't you just marry a girl?" Tina asked as she folded napkins. "One rich girl's just like the rest, isn't she? Why not pick one and get it over with?"
"No, some are worse," Erik replied after swallowing.
"Yeah, and they're all pretty and stupid as well-bred sheep," muttered Clarence from the opposite side of Tina. Erik had a strong suspicion that the butler had an eye on the young maid, who was half his age, but apparently Tina was returning Clarence's feelings without qualms.
Erik could only laugh as he finished his last bite of potato pancake. Setting her chores aside, Becky immediately walked over and picked up his plate, helping him dust off his shirt and coat before giving him a quick glance to be sure he looked alright. Getting a nod of approval, Erik straightened himself up and smiled down at the cook, handing her a coin as a way of thanks. She frowned, but knew that she could use the money to help with Tina's future. Once he was confident enough to face the crowds and still get away from the party, Erik left the safety of the kitchen and headed out to find his hosts.
He didn't know how she did it, but Martha managed to convince Erik to remain for another twenty minutes. Inwardly, he suspected that it was because she wanted him to meet someone who would be arriving unbelievably late to the party. Finally, Erik felt he'd had enough. Standing from his chair, he bowed politely to Martha, who gave him an apologetic look as she allowed him to go. As he turned to leave, Erik spotted something unusual in the corner of the parlor.
A young woman sat completely alone in a shady corner, the white lace curtains blowing back and forth behind her. Dressed in a simple, but still elegant, dress of white with dark green trim and a green sash around her waist, she was surely of the upper class. Reddish-brown hair was pulled into a bun at the back of her head, and three thick curls fell on both sides of her face, a dark green lace ribbon holding a straw hat on her head. Taking a closer look, Erik could see she wasn't a thin stick of a woman; he could clearly make out a wealth of curves hidden beneath the white and green materials, and he could see luscious brown eyes under long brown lashes.
'Quite the lovely girl,' he thought, slowly moving closer. So why is she alone? 'Perhaps she is waiting for someone?'
No, that wasn't it, but then, neither did she appear to be avoiding everyone. Instead, the rest of the party seemed to be avoiding her. Watching the girl absently sip her tea, Erik couldn't understand why no one was talking to her. There was no ring on her finger, meaning she was unmarried and not engaged, so why weren't there any men trying to court her? The young men were merely walking around her to look out the window or to try and speak with other girls, completely avoiding the pretty brunette sitting by the window. Was she not good enough for them for some reason? Or was there was a hidden flaw to her physique or personality?
'Perhaps she is mute? But then, why allow your mute daughter to go to a tea party alone?'
It made no sense at all! Well, thankfully Erik was capable of sign language, so if that were the case, he, at least, would be able to speak to a fellow outcast. Smoothing his coat and vest, Erik began to move towards her. Once he had reached his destination, he cleared his throat.
"Hello."
She jumped slightly in her chair. "Oh, I'm sorry!" she said, setting aside her cup, which appeared to be empty.
So she did speak. Then why wasn't she being spoken to? "There's nothing to be sorry about," he said, moving the cup further into the center of the table so it would not fall. "I was merely wondering if…"
"If you could have the chair," the young woman replied in a soft voice, just loud enough for him alone to hear. "Of course, I'm sorry, of course you may." Quickly rising, she straightened out her skirts. Erik absently noted that the top of her head was even with the middle of his chest. "I must be leaving anyway. My family is expecting me at home."
Before Erik could speak another word, she curtseyed and slipped past him, vanishing out the door in a whirl of white lace and green silk. Puzzled, Erik followed her, far more curious about her than before, and wanting to know more about her.
However, his arrival to the front of the house was too late. His first step onto the porch showed a carriage rolling away, the young girl in the back holding a parasol above her head as a young driver directed it down the long dirt road.
'I do not even know her name,' Erik thought, disappointed for reasons beyond his comprehension.
That disappointment surprised him. He did not know why he cared about this strange girl he had only seen for a few moments, nor did he understand why he felt the need to find her and talk to her. What could he possibly talk about with a young, very likely well-educated woman? Music? Did she like music, and if so, which composer did she enjoy most? Did she read, and if so, what books held her attention and interests?
'Good Gods, I'm babbling,' he realized, shaking himself out of his daze.
It was at that moment that Erik learned that he was standing in the middle of the Brooks' front porch, staring at the fading form of the young girl's carriage. Feeling rather foolish about his actions, Erik straightened his coat and looked around, spotting his driver/butler, Marcus, at the edge of the porch with a knowing smile on his face.
"Shall I bring the horse and cart around, sir?" he asked his master.
"Yes, please, Marcus," Erik softly replied, glancing at the settling dust of the afternoon.
As the other man disappeared to carry out his orders, Erik clasped his hands behind his back, vowing to find out more about the young woman who was quickly becoming an obsessive puzzle for him. First, he would find out her name. And then…well, he'd let Fate decide the rest.
AN: Aw, Erik's got a little obsessive crush! I know it's kind of like the situation with Christine, but then again, what outcast wouldn't be curious about another? Well, please review and let me know what you think of the story so far! Thanks!