Disclaimer: Erik is still not mine, much to my dismay. Only original creations belong to me.
AN: Okay, some bad news here. My posting will temporarily be on hold after this, because I'm getting a new computer at work (yes, I write at work, it's not a crime) and the new computer doesn't have a floppy drive. Since I use a floppy disk to store and transport my chapters, I need a new way to store and transport chapters, and will be unable to post until I figure it out. Thanks for the understanding! Now enjoy a night at the Ball with Erik and Clara, and don't forget to review!
Chapter 5: A Night at the Ball:
Glancing around the room, Erik did his best to remain in the shadows cast by the flickering candlelight. True, this was not Paris and he was free to join in on the festivities; he could dance with anyone he chose, talk freely with gentlemen who sought conversation, and laugh at any jest thrown his way. Or he could just stand out in the light and smile at those who waved at him.
However, old habits are hard to be rid of. Erik knew that a mere eighteen months in sunlight and the public eye was not going to banish the need for darkness when others were close by. He could not feel comfortable in such a setting as this, with well-dressed men and women garbed in their finest silks and lace wandering around him. He especially did not enjoy having the young ladies (and some not so young) flirting with him; it was unnerving to him, and he disliked it tremendously. The mixture of perfume, cigars, cologne, and spice from the food tables made him feel ill.
'I should not have come,' he thought, quickly snapping up a glass of champagne and drinking the whole thing in one gulp. 'I detest this sort of thing.'
If it hadn't been for Tom and Martha's insistence, Erik knew that he would be in the quietness of his home, playing something soothing and enjoying a fine glass of wine or brandy. Instead, he was suffering from a bad case of nerves, and desperately wanted to leave. However, he had only been here for half an hour, and to leave so soon would be considered quite rude by society's standards.
'It also does not help that this so-called 'Ball' is nothing like the Masquerades put on in Paris.'
Well, perhaps that was a little conceited of him. Still, Erik highly doubted that any 'Ball' in this town could compare with the glamour, elegance, and beauty of a true French Masquerade! There were no professional dancers for entertainment, nor was the orchestra very practiced; Erik highly doubted that they kept up rehearsals outside of events like the one for this evening! As a result, the occasional instrument was out of tune or made the sound of a duck being trod on, which the party attendants seemed to ignore all too easily.
Groaning, Erik snapped up another glass of champagne. It was going to be a very long evening…a very long, dull evening, he was sure.
"For heaven's sakes, Clara, hurry!" Mama cried through my door. "We're late enough as it is!"
'Only by a few minutes,' I couldn't help thinking. Out loud, I said, "I'm almost done with my hair, Mother!"
I put the last pin into my hair before I had even finished my sentence. Taking a deep breath, I looked at myself in the mirror before I went downstairs to meet my family. My red silk gown went very well with my hair and eyes, though I did not like the low cut of the bodice. The white lace that trimmed the straps that were my 'sleeves,' as well as the numerous ruffled layers of the skirt, was very soft and pretty. My hair was pulled to the back of my head, and I couldn't help but feel proud that, for once, the two curls I had done along both sides of my head were staying in the shape I had put them into. I felt quite like the Southern Belle, and I believed I looked the part as well; hopefully Mama would be pleased with me…
Grabbing a fan (for if it got too warm) and a white shawl (for if I went outside), I gracefully walked downstairs. Papa was handsome in his black tuxedo, and Mama was an elegant beauty in dark blue velvet. Philip also was in a tuxedo, though he wore a silver vest over his white shirt. Together, I felt we made quite the lovely picture as a family, and I could see the pride shining in Papa's eyes as he looked at me.
"You look beautiful, sweetness," he said, coming over to give me a kiss on the forehead. "A true belle of the ball, you'll be!"
"I certainly hope so," Mama declared, flicking her fan open and looking me over. "After all I spent on that red silk, as well as the lace all the way from China? She had better look good!"
I couldn't tell if she was jesting or not, since it was always hard to tell with her. Also, Mama didn't joke very often, so I thought it best not to laugh or show any amusement. Instead, I put on my best façade, which consisted of me looking clam and collected under any circumstances. My mother gave me an inspecting glance before nodding her approval, which was the signal for us to go out to the carriage. Henry opened the door and the four of us Savoy's climbed in, ready for the night's festivities.
As Erik circled the hall for what felt like the hundredth time that night, he felt ready to leave at once, despite the numerous people who were presently arriving "fashionably late" to the event. Tom and Martha had tried several times to direct young female dance partners his way, but he had not spent years of being evasive for nothing. He'd avoided many available girls this evening, and if he remained, he would likely have to avoid dozens more!
Gritting his teeth, Erik cast his eyes around the room once more, keeping an eye out for the women who were practically stalking him. What a role reversal: him being stalked instead of being the stalker! Oh, how the people in Paris would laugh at him for this! Biting back the curse words he longed to exclaim, Erik's gaze found itself to the front door, his means of escape. However, he forgot his intent to flee the moment he saw the family that entered through the large wooden doors.
A petite woman with black hair and eyes clung to a tall man with red-gold hair. The woman was dressed completely in deep blue velvet, giving her an air of dark mystery that was very appealing. In opposition to her was her husband, whose bright hair was thinning on top of his head, but the fading hairline did nothing to take away the jolly smile and air that surrounded him, despite his black tuxedo. They made quite the unique couple, and appeared to be very happy.
Behind them came a tall young man in his late teens, apparently their son. He, too, wore a tuxedo, but with a silver vest that was rather dashing on him. Erik nodded in approval of the boy, who had dark hair and light brown eyes that were serious, but not too grave on a person his age. However, Erik could see that this young man had the ability to have fun, when given the chance, a chance he would hopefully get tonight. He was everything a young man of wealth and education should be, and not some empty-headed fop like some others Erik had met, which was a blessing.
However, it was not these three people that truly caught and held Erik's attention…it was the young woman in a red silk and white lace cloud that followed behind them.
He recognized her the moment she set foot in the door, a footman taking her white lace shawl from her shoulders as she smiled at him. Her family's entrance had not disturbed the party in any way, but for Erik, it was as though time had literally stood still. The music faded, dancing couples froze, and everyone and everything else had simply…disappeared. Taking a deep breath, Erik moved towards her, hoping to catch her before another man asked her to dance.
He watched in surprise as her mother and father gave her reassuring and encouraging smiles before walking off to talk with friends. The young man (who had to be her younger brother) also smiled at her before heading off in a different direction. Erik did not care what these others did; he only cared about the young woman and where she was going to go.
He dared not approach her too soon; after all, he was a stranger to her, a person still new to the town and its people. Instead, he followed her with his eyes and trailed behind her at a distance, waiting for just the right moment to introduce himself to her.
I bit the inside of my cheek as I made my way to the drink table for some punch, just like I always did at balls or parties like this. I knew that most of the available men would already be taken by a lady, so I had little to no chance of actually achieving a dance tonight. Well, unless Papa or Philip took pity on me, and from the looks of things, that sort of thing wasn't going to happen; Mama was firmly latched on to Papa's arm, and Philip was very much the popular one with the younger girls. This left no chance for a person like me to dance with a partner of the opposite gender.
'A wallflower again,' I bitterly thought, scooping out a bit of punch into a silver cup. A few drops spilled on my hand, and I was thankful that I had not worn gloves with my gown. As disastrous as tonight was going to be, showing Mother a pair of ruined gloves would have made it much worse.
Sighing, I cleaned my hand, sipped my punch, and watched the dancing. Even though I hated being alone at social events like this, I did enjoy watching the different colors and styles of gowns; it was all so beautiful and dazzling that I couldn't help but sigh as the women swirled past me in the arms of their dance partners. That lovely sight, of course, would then remind me that I had no such partner, causing me to become sad and more focused on the buffet table or drinks. Biting back tears, I raised my cup to my lips, about to take another drink, when I saw him.
It was the masked man from the Brooks' tea party and the old Clark home, the one I had taken care of the day of the storm. He was extremely handsome in his black tuxedo and deep red vest, the white of his mask contrasting with the dark shades of his outfit. As I watched him gracefully move through the crowd, I saw that his outfit almost matched mine in colors. But the strangest thing of all was that he was starting to walk towards me!
'Or maybe he just wants to get to the drinks,' whispered a tiny voice in the back of my head.
I barely hid a wince of disappointment. This is what usually happened whenever a man moved towards me and I was standing near the food or beverage tables. I would think that he was interested in me, and all that would happen would be him asking me to please move so that he could get himself a drink or a bite to eat. Besides, from the way the other girls were attempting to get this man, I had no chance of attracting him in any way. So, biting back a grimace of disappointment, I merely set my cup down and began looking around for one of the chairs lining the wall, ready to sit and watch the Ball as I always did.
Just as I spotted an empty chair, I heard someone clear their throat from behind me. Turning around, I looked right into a row of buttons, going straight down a very male chest. Glancing up, my gaze met a pair of green eyes behind a stunningly white mask.
Watching her closely, Erik saw her take a silver cup and a bit of punch, her manners delicate and cautious. It puzzled him to see her so alone and without anyone attempting to approach her, but if she was alone and without a flock of chattering friends, so much the better. However, what drew him to her even more was the forlorn look that seemed to haunt her face, as though it was all she had ever known at these social gatherings.
'Perhaps she and I are not so different,' Erik thought as he began moving his way towards her.
As he walked, Erik could feel many young women gazing at him, hoping to catch his eye in an effort to seize him as their partner for the evening. The moment he passed them by, however, he could feel the air fill with disappointment at being overlooked, which amused him to no end. Now, though, his sights were set on the red-clad beauty who stood sipping a drink that was the color of her new gown. He saw her spot him approaching her, and could not help but smirk to himself as she timidly turned her gaze down into her silver cup.
'Such a shy maiden,' Erik couldn't help but think.
It only made her more attractive to him. Several other girls tried to get his attention by touching his arms or shoulders, but his ignored them, merely giving them a brief shake of the head as he walked. As he drew closer, Erik noticed that she had turned away, apparently searching the room for something…or, perhaps…someone?
For some reason that thought burned Erik more than anything so far tonight, and he felt the sudden need to divert her attention towards him. Slipping up behind her, Erik cleared his throat. The young woman's attention was quickly focused on him, her brown eyes meeting the row of black buttons going up his white shirt, following the trail up to meet his eyes.
"Pardon me, Mademoiselle," he said in his most cultured voice, his hand reaching out for her own.
"Oh!" she exclaimed, blushing furiously. "Oh, please, excuse me! I must be in your way."
She took a quick step back from his hand, her cheeks as red as the silk of her gown. Confused, Erik looked between her and the table, finally understanding what she was doing. She believed to be in his way to get to the offered drinks! Chuckling, Erik reached out and took her hand. She blushed as he placed a kiss on the back of her hand, a pleased, but shy, smile on her lips at the attention he was giving her. Biting back a triumphant smirk at his success, Erik settled for merely giving her a sincere little smile as his green eyes stared into deep brown ones. Watching her shy blush turn into an awestruck look, the former Phantom of the Opera put a great deal of his most charming talents to the test by asking her something that most young ladies were dying to hear.
"Would you honor me with a dance?" he purred, his eyes not moving from hers.
An instant later, his heart nearly stopped as her lush, dark eyelashes fluttered in the most seductive manner he had ever seen. Her awed look became a light blush as another shy smile pulled up the corners of her lips. Erik had to do his best not to swallow his tongue as he waited for her to speak.
"It would be a pleasure," she softly replied, her Southern accent sweet as heaven to his ears.
Smiling back at her, Erik offered her his elbow and escorted her onto the dance floor.
I could barely keep myself from fainting. I was on the arm of one of the most handsome men I'd ever seen, and he had actually asked me to dance with him! And it wasn't from lack of partners, either; I had seen dozens of eligible women and girls attempt to make him their partner for the evening, all of them failing to do so. Why this man would want to dance with me of all people was beyond any reason that I could think of.
'Perhaps I should ask? No, better not to be rude, Clara; just enjoy the moment of dancing with a handsome man who wants your company, if only for this evening.'
So I did. He was an amazing dancer, his moves graceful and full of purpose as he led me around and across the dance floor. His gloved hands were so gentle, his arms firmly keeping me close to him as he twirled me to the sounds of the orchestra. Whenever I looked up into his face, there was a contented smile there, making him look even more handsome than before. A small dimple showed on the left side of his mouth when he appeared happy, which I couldn't help but smile up at.
"Does something amuse you, Mademoiselle?" he asked.
I couldn't help but shiver in delight. Oh, that voice! It was so rich and full of emotion that I wanted to hear more of it, not caring what he said as long as he spoke to me. Looking up at him, I noticed that he was now fully grinning at me, the two of us stopping where we were as the dance ended. He took my right hand and kissed it before tucking it into the warmth of his left elbow.
I bit back a sigh as he led me to a secluded corner of the ballroom, offering me a chair as he released my hand and took a standing position to my left, practically cutting me off from the views of the other attendants. I shook my head, refusing the seat, which seemed to please him for some reason. Instead, the two of us merely stood together in a comfortable silence that was only broken by my mysterious dance partner.
"I had been hoping to ask you something that has been plaguing me for some time, my dear," he said, looking down into my eyes.
"Yes?" I breathed, completely awed by this man and his astounding voice and presence.
"Your name," he said, hovering a bit closer to me. "I would have you give me your name."
I swallowed, hard, to keep my heart from leaping out of it. "Clara," I softly replied. "Clara Savoy."
"Clara," he repeated, smiling. I nearly fainted as he said my name. "I am Erik Rousseau."
"It's…nice to meet you, Erik." I couldn't stop myself from blushing as he kissed my hand again.
"The pleasure is mine, cherie," Erik replied, once more tucking my hand into his elbow. "Would you care for some fresh air? It is getting rather warm in here."
I nodded my agreement and followed him. As we moved through the crowd, I couldn't help but notice that the other girls were giving me the most jealous looks they could muster. Averting my eyes, I focused all of my attention on the man who presently clutched my hand as though it were a priceless treasure and he feared to lose it. Let the other girls be jealous of me just this once; tonight, I actually had the attention of a handsome man…even if might only be for this one evening.
AN: Aw, wasn't that nice? How did you like them meeting for the first time (outside of the sickness scene)? Review and let me know what you thought!