Disclaimer: Erik is still not mine, much to my dismay. Only original creations belong to me.

AN: Well, here is another chapter. Thanks for being patient; the tech guys at work took forever to set up my new computer, and then the website didn't want to let me load and update the story! Anyway, here is a new chapter. I hope that it's not too sappy or boring, but if it is, please don't hesitate to say so in your review! Thanks, and I hope you enjoy reading the new chapter!

Chapter 7: The Start of a Romantic Courtship:

The remainder of my time at the Brooks' tea party was primarily spent with Erik, though my father tried to interfere occasionally. The moment Erik had escorted me inside after our walk, Papa began to head towards us, a rather angry look on his face displaying what he thought about my 'going walking' with a man. Thankfully, Mama was there beside him, and upon seeing what he was upset about, had managed to distract him long enough for Erik and I to escape from Papa's wrath.

The two of us ended up in a fairly cool, dark parlor where we sat and spoke about my wanting to visit Europe. I knew our family had some Irish blood in it (thus Papa's red hair), and so I desperately felt a pull to go and see the rich, green hills of Ireland. I also wanted to see the castles and villages in Scotland and England, as well as to see Italy and Spain. The temples of Greece were also on my list of places to see, should I ever get the chance.

As I spoke, I could feel my eyes glaze over while visions of different countries danced before my eyes. Erik, bless him, didn't laugh at my private dreams, nor did he tell me that it was impossible, as most men would have. Instead, he smiled at me with encouragement and proceeded to discuss the different places to visit while in certain countries. Apparently, Erik was a very well-read man in the way of travel, and I couldn't possibly get enough of his voice as he spoke to me. This was by far the most amusement I had ever had at a social gathering, and I did not want the day to end.

Unfortunately, all good parties must come to an end. My brother found us speaking together and warned me that Papa had been looking for me everywhere. Philip proceeded to wink at us before leaving the room, claiming that he would "hold Papa off" as long as he could. I maimed throwing something at him as he slipped out the door, leaving me once again alone in Erik's company.

"I really must go," I said as I rose from my seat. "Papa will have my head if he doesn't find me or if I fail to meet him soon."

Erik had risen with me, his face showing his disappointment. "Will you be at the event next week?" he asked. "I'm afraid I do not recall what it is, exactly…"

"Oh, the dessert social!" I said, smiling. "Of course I'll be there, since Mama and Papa go every year. It's much like a tea party, except the whole thing is held outdoors. There will be tents in case it rains, and it will mostly be cakes, pies, little pastries, as well as other sweet things to eat."

For some reason, Erik winced. "I am afraid that eating sweets is not my forte," he said, looking slightly uncomfortable.

I chuckled a bit. "Well, no need to worry about that. I know quite a few others who dislike sweets but will still be in attendance, if only because their friends and family members are going. And there will be plenty of drinks, as well as some ordinary, somewhat salty food to cut through the sugary taste one can get in their mouths."

The moment that last word was said, I could see Erik look straight towards my lips, his green eyes unexpectedly becoming unreadable. I swallowed hard, suddenly feeling rather nervous. Did he want to kiss me? Was he going to kiss me? I had no objection to being kissed by a handsome man in a mask, but I had no idea of his feelings about me. What if I read the look on his face wrong? I'd never forgive myself if I tried to kiss him and he rejected me because I had misinterpreted his actions.

Instead of acting towards a kiss, I blushed and looked down at my dress, smoothing out invisible and nonexistent wrinkles in the fabric. If he wanted to kiss me, he would have to be the one to step forward and do so; it was not a lady's place to be so forward in engaging in intimate actions.

To my surprise, one of his gloved hands slid under my chin and lifted it so that I looked him straight in the eye. A smile tugged on his lips, as though he found my actions charming and sweet instead of annoyingly meek. His green eyes were darkened to a deep emerald, a color that told of his desire for a kiss, but his willingness to wait. I had seen other men's responses to such acts of shyness, and they had mostly been frustrated when they saw a maiden was unready for the kiss of a suitor. Erik simply caressed my chin with his gloved thumb before sliding his fingers up my jaw, stopping at my ear before retracing its path back down to my chin.

"I know that you are not yet ready for my kiss, cherie," he said in a whisper that barely reached my ears. "So I will wait until you are comfortable with me before I try once more."

As his fingers slowly pulled away from me, I released a breath I hadn't realized I had been holding until now. Erik smiled at me again before reaching into his jacket, removing a simple, small, long, thin box that was made of dark wood. To my surprise, he held the object out to me, his gesture obviously stating that it was a gift for me. Puzzled, I accepted the box and opened it.

Inside was the most beautiful fan that I had ever seen. The wood was the darkest ebony, and the cloth was of a silky white material as soft as baby bird feathers. There were gold patterns woven into the white of the fan, and two little gold tassels hung off of a gold cord that threaded through the handle. It was so elegantly made that I couldn't help but flick it open and begin to use it.

Erik observed me with a pleased eye. "Are you happy with my choice for you?" he asked, his eyes watching my hand move the fan back and forth. "I am afraid that I do not know your favorite color or what color of fan you needed, so I purchased this in hopes that it matched some of your dresses."

I couldn't help but smile. "It's perfect," I said, which seemed to reassure him. "I have many dresses with different patterns and styles to them, and this will go wonderfully with nearly all of them." I gave him a shy blush. "Thank you for the wonderful gift."

My thanks and encouragement seemed to make him stand taller, a pleased smile on his lips. "You are quite welcome, my dear," he replied, bowing while reaching out to take my free hand in one of his own.

I was never more surprised in my life than when he brought the back of my hand to his lips. As his skin connected with mine, I felt ready to faint from the rather intimate gesture he had given me. How could a charming, clever, gentlemanly person such as Erik be unmarried? Was it because of his face? True, it wasn't very pretty to look at, but it wasn't bad enough to chase women off! Honestly, if a woman had fled from him because of his face, the girl must have been a fool or unbelievably vain.

Of course, I said none of this aloud. Instead, I relished the feel of Erik's lips on my hand as long as I could. Since Erik seemed reluctant to release my hand, we could be in this form for quite some time. However, a tap on the door interrupted our precious moment, and I was forced to (reluctantly) pull back my hand. Erik seemed to mirror my reluctance as our contact was broken, though he put on an indifferent look as my father walked into the room.

"Time to go, Clara," he said while glaring at Erik, acting as though he knew something horrible about the masked man that I didn't. "It's a long ride home, after all."

I couldn't hold back a sigh. "Yes, Papa," I replied. As my father held out an arm for me, I turned and looked back at Erik. "I had a wonderful time today, Mr. Rousseau. Thank you for the lemonade."

With a flick of my wrist, I opened my fan and fluttered it back and forth, hoping that I appeared flirtatious as I did so. It apparently worked, since Erik seemed to be trying to hold back a smirk as he looked at me. Instead, he replied with a quick bow to me.

"It is always a pleasure to be in your company, Mademoiselle Savoy," he said with a slight purr in his voice.

I blushed as my father made low growling noises in his throat. I gave Erik a quick smile as Papa practically dragged me out of the room and into the hallway.

From the porch of the Brooks' home, Erik watched in silence as the Savoy family drove away together in their carriage. He hadn't wanted Clara's father to spot him as he observed them leaving, so he had stayed out of their sight until they were safely tucked behind the doors of the carriage and fading into the distance. Once he was sure that he was no longer in their line of vision, Erik motioned for a servant to retrieve his own means home; he could use the nice ride home today.

As they rolled along the road, Erik reached up with a gloved hand and touched his lips. He had almost kissed Clara today, but it had not been the right time; he had learned from past mistakes, and would do his best to remain patient until Clara was ready for his touch and kiss.

'But the kiss to her hand had been a very nice touch,' he thought to himself.

Yes, it had been very nice indeed. French men were nothing but debonair and chivalrous to women, especially women they were interested in pursuing. Of course, the French were also known to be good lovers of women, so perhaps the charm and seductiveness was almost a part of the French blood. Also, to use his seductive powers as the Phantom could prove a great advantage for him in wooing Clara and winning her heart. After a few weeks, he was sure no other man could possibly catch her eye or her love. Grinning, Erik looked out the window as vast fields of beautiful wildflowers passed by, causing him to think of what he could give Clara at their next meeting.

Lost in thought, Erik did not notice the pleased look on Marcus' face as he drove the carriage home.

"Clara!"

I sighed, trying to ignore my mother's scream. Unfortunately, it didn't work.

"Clara, if you don't hurry, there won't be anyone for you to talk with at the social!"

Of course there would be someone for me to talk with! Erik was sure to be there, so I knew I wouldn't be alone as I normally would! Of course, Mother didn't know that, so I had better hurry or else she would never forgive me.

'Then again, I may never forgive her for making me wear this horrible dress today!' I thought, glaring at my lap. Today, instead of wearing something in a pale blue or green, which I would have preferred, I was in a monstrous gown that I could not stand to see myself in.

Yesterday afternoon, Mother had come into my room bearing a rose-pink dress in her arms, acting as though it were a precious treasure. The whole thing was nothing but layers and layers of pink cotton and lace, resembling something you would put on a doll or a little girl. The mere sight of it made me wince, as any shade of pink tended to make me feel quite ill. I had liked the color well enough when I was a child, but now I felt like throwing the garment out the window and letting Papa's hunting dogs take care of it.

Instead, I became the 'dutiful daughter' and put on the ghastly dress. Mother had wanted me to have pink flowers in my hair as well, but since we were at the dinner table during that talk, Papa had intervened. I had felt like hugging the man when he said that I would resemble a bridesmaid, and that it would make me look terribly desperate for a husband in front of the other girls. That reason alone had prevented any more discussion on Mother's part, for which I was extremely thankful.

Now I looked at myself in the floor-length mirror, wincing at the sight. My hair had been pulled up into a rather odd knot at the back of my head, where white flowers had been tucked instead of the pink ones. Around my neck was a gold chain with a small, heart-shaped medallion on it, which fell just above my breasts (which was probably the whole point of Mother choosing it for me to wear). I probably looked fairly nice, but I felt like a doll of some sort, and I hated it.

'What if Erik sees me like this?' I thought, beginning to panic.

There was no possible way I was going to wear this horrid thing. Not to mention that it didn't fit right, which meant that it hadn't been made for me in the first place! Oh, goodness, was this a dress Mother had bought on impulse? Everything she purchased at a low price turned into a disaster, and I could not let that happen to me today, especially not if Erik was going to be there!

Swiftly making up my mind, I reached back and began to undo the buttons. I was going to wear a decent dress, whether my mother liked it or not!

Tugging one last time at his collar, Erik took a deep breath before exiting his carriage and stepping onto the immaculate lawn of the Dubois plantation. He really did not know the Dubois' very well, but it was an event where everyone of social standing was almost required to attend, so he had come. And, given that this was primarily an outdoor social, Erik had decided to wear a dark gold coat over his white shirt and vest. It was the lightest-colored outfit he had ever worn, and he hoped that he looked acceptable in it…or at least, he hoped Clara thought him to look acceptable…

Walking towards one of the food tables, he quickly scanned the offered food and inwardly winced. The whole thing was covered with cakes, pies, tiny finger-pastries, or soft treats such as marshmallows; there was no real food to be had at this table. So, trying not to sniff in distain, Erik turned to head to another table, but felt a gripping hand on his elbow.

"Hello, Mr. Rousseau," purred a female voice.

Looking down, Erik did his best not to wince and shake her off his arm. There stood Lillian Dubois, the eldest daughter of the Dubois children, wearing a pale, sky-blue dress that clung to her like a second skin, the skirt flowing down in waves to the ground. Erik was quite familiar with her; many times she had tried to engage him in a dance or conversation, but Erik had little patience for talk of fashions, weather, or just plain gossip. The girl was pretty enough, he supposed, but he truly felt no attraction to her, though he knew the opposite could be said on Lillian's part.

"Would you care to join me and my friends?" she asked, fluttering blonde eyelashes at him. "I would so love to have your company for the day."

Erik just barely managed not to roll his eyes at her. This was a good thing, as he saw a true vision of loveliness float across the lawn, clad in lovely peach cloth and ruffles and bearing a white parasol; a fan hung from her wrist by a golden cord. Her dark hair was elegantly pulled back and fastened so that it fell in slight waves down her back. She smiled when she saw him and quickly approached.

"Clara?" he whispered, admiring how the peach material brought out the color of her hair and eyes.

The moment she stood in front of him, he pulled himself out of Lillian's grasp and reached out for Clara's free hand, the one from which the fan dangled. As he placed a kiss on the back of her hand, he noticed that it was actually the fan he had given her just last week! Pleased that she had brought it, Erik pulled himself up from his slight bow and smiled at her. A delicate cough brought their attention back to the present and Lillian.

"Hello, Clara," the blonde said, obviously unhappy with the new arrival. "I was just inviting Mr. Rousseau to come have something to eat with my friends and me." She looked pointedly at Erik, as though attempting to make a point.

Erik looked over to Clara and saw the crestfallen look that he so hated to see on her face. For a moment, Erik considered slapping the spoiled girl who stood next to him, but instead decided to do something even better.

"I'm sorry, Miss Dubois, but I'm afraid that I have a prior engagement with Miss Savoy," he said, staring down at the five-foot girl from his much taller frame. Turning to Clara, he offered her his arm.

"Shall we, Mademoiselle?"

I could hardly believe it. Erik had refused to socialize with Lillian Dubois, had actually turned down her personal invitation, in public! And in front of me, as well! Shocked into silence, I merely nodded as I accepted Erik's arm, following him like an eager, silent puppy as he walked towards the food tables furthest away from the fuming Lillian.

"Erik, you didn't have to do that," I found myself saying. "Lillian and her friends are quite well-known and quite lovely. You should have accepted her; you would have made many more friends through them."

Oh, how I wanted to slap myself for saying that! However, Erik truly needed to make friends with the other families in the area, and Lillian's group consisted of some of the best families in the county. Mama and Papa were close friends with Fredrick and Olivia Dubois, Lillian's parents, and couldn't understand why she and I didn't get along. Since Lillian thought herself above me in looks, as well as in manners and friends, she wanted nothing to do with me. I thought she was a spoiled girl, so the dislike was mutual on both parts. Still, that doesn't mean Erik couldn't be associated with her.

"I have no need for spoiled little girls such as her, ma belle," Erik replied, frowning slightly as we approached another table loaded with sweet things. "Mon Dieu, isn't there anything here that doesn't have sugar in it?"

I laughed, which drew his attention to me, his eyes focusing on me as I tried to stifle my giggles. "Well, it is a dessert social, Erik," I said teasingly. "But the normal food is usually over there."

I twitched my hand and caught my fan, using it to gesture to the food table, since ladies weren't allowed to point. Erik sighed with gratefulness and began to head in the direction I had indicated. In moments, Erik was carrying our plates as we began a search for a spot to sit down. We found an open bench and a small table under some shady trees and settled down. Erik quickly left me to look after the food as he went to fetch drinks, soon returning with two glasses of lemonade in his hands.

After we had finished our meal of ham, potato salad, and cold vegetables, I risked a glance around the lawn. Everyone was having a good time and chatting, but I could see Lillian and her friends huddled in a circle, obviously having a secret talk about something. Getting nervous, I saw the girls in the group glare at me with open hatred, and winced slightly. Not enough so that people would see, but unfortunately just enough for Erik to notice.

"What's wrong, ma belle?" he asked, suddenly looking concerned as a servant girl came over to take our plates.

"Nothing," I said, avoiding his gaze as I fiddled with a ruffle on my dress.

Erik reached out and, with a gentle hand, forced me to look at him. "It is the Dubois girl and her friends, isn't it?" he asked as soon as the plates and servant were gone.

I merely closed my eyes and sighed. "Despite our parents being friends, Lillian and I have just never gotten along, that's all."

"You do not need her, cherie," he said, smiling. "You are smart, lovely, and kind. They are cold, spoiled, and think only of their social standing and their wealth. You are above them in so many ways that there is no possible way to list them all to you."

Erik suddenly reached out and took my hands in his. I blushed and couldn't help but smile at him.

Meanwhile, Erik himself was doing his best not to blush in front of Clara. Never before had he comforted a person, as he himself had never had the joy of someone comforting him when the world had turned against him. But here he was, holding Clara's soft hand in his as he spoke of her fine qualities, of which there were many.

'Lillian Dubois could only hope to be like Clara,' he thought as he stood, taking her with him.

Quickly tucking her hand into his elbow, Erik escorted his lady around the lawn, visiting the Brooks' and a few of Clara's female friends from other plantations. Erik was very thankful that Clara's associates wanted nothing to do with Lillian's, and was relieved to see that most of the girls were being courted or were married already. One girl in particular, Haleigh Winters, was quite humorous and had a fondness for jokes. She was also Clara's dearest friend, their homes within close travel distance so that they could easily see one another whenever they had a spare moment. To his surprise, Erik found himself in the company of good men and women who accepted him and were not out to catch him as a husband.

Before the end of the day, Erik presented Clara with an elegant mother-of-pearl hairclip, declaring that every young woman should have something beautiful for her hair. Her radiant smile was all the thanks he could have hoped for.

AN: Aw, isn't it romantic? I can just hear the sappy music in the background. If it's getting to mushy for people, please let me know! Thanks, and review!