Chapter 15:
As he plodded home through the bustling streets of Paris, thick with grime, Nadir pondered again on the odd pair living beneath the Opera House. Mostly though, his mind remained on Candela. Their first meeting had been at knife-point not quite a year back. His mind's eye remembered well the vivacity for life that had glowed from her every pore.
She had been a girl who took the reins of her own life by the teeth.
Yet, now she conformed. Proper hair styles as opposed to letting it be free. Corsets and formal dresses instead of her usually odd things. Quiet conversation and small talk masking her regular spirited self.
The Marquis knew nothing of the girl was courting.
And, at this, Nadir began to wonder if Candela did either.
A half a year was a long enough time for someone to forget who they were when in pursuit of something. The maid desired a better future than a spinster who would one day be turned from her home because of the death of her benefactor. Perhaps she might have amassed a small fortune but what was a woman like her to do with her life?
Marriage had seemed the logical option to everything.
Marriage to a marquis, the perfect option.
Pausing before a jewelry shop, he peered through the darkened glass at the variety of rings displayed therein. His eyes grew misty as he remembered his lovely Rookheeya, an arranged marriage that had worked. Such a short love story theirs had been.
"Would Candela be happy? She isn't Rookheeya." A chuckle and a tear escaped him as he continued his way home, unsure of how to sort his muddled brain. Perhaps a long talk by the fire with Darius would clear it.
E-OC
"Do you think your cousin will like me?" Candela inquired quietly, smoothing her skirts and calming her fidgeting to appear more proper.
"She will love you." The Marquis leaned closer to her and grasped her lace-gloved hands. "You and she will get along well. I hope you don't mind children? She likes to keep him close to her."
"Not a problem. I like children." Her eyes shifted off the Marquis's searching ones and drifted to glance out the window. Children of the servants had, with only a few exceptions, been a rowdy group, uncontrollable even by their own parents. As for the few noble children that she had met, they were pompous miniatures of their own families.
Yet, she would remain hopeful that this little duke would prove neither of her opinions true.
As the carriage rolled to a stop before the mansion, the driver jumped down and aided the pair of them out, bowing low to them both. The Marquis waved him away and led her towards the door, smiling the whole way and chattering about his cousin. If anything, Candela found herself glad he was filling the silence. With every step towards her former location of employment, her stomach grew colder, chilling her to the bone far more than the winter wind ever could.
The doors swept open and they glided through, servants whisking away their coats and hats the moment they stepped into the warm hallway. The footman and the butler both eyed the Spaniard suspiciously but said not a word. The maid supposed that her skin was paler from a year beneath the earth and her cheeks were fuller from healthy eating.
Her appearance had altered drastically.
Besides, she had never been acquainted with the butler.
Before they even had a chance to move into the sitting room to warm themselves further by the fire, a whoosh of red shirts appear at the head of the stairs and scampered down them, two at a time.
"Jules!" The lively redhead cried, embracing her cousin as if he had been gone for some long journey. "You're back. Oh! And you brought your lady with you. I am honored to meet you, at last. Jules has told me nothing but glowing news." Candela giggled quietly as the woman swept up her hands in a fervent grasp.
"Do calm down, Reine. You'll scare the poor girl."
"I doubt it. She seems a strong enough specimen of a lady. I'm Marie Reine, Duchess of St. Albans. And, let me see if I've got this correct." Her eyes closed a moment before she said, "Candela de la Vaga? Yes, that's it. I never forget a name." If the Spaniard hadn't been so completely flabbergasted with the nature of the Duchess, she might have been able to enjoy the excitement more. But, as it was, the pure enthusiasm overwhelmed her.
She had thought that all proper women were somber creatures.
"Yes, you are correct. Even down the last articles."
"Wonderful! Now, Jules," she fixed her sapphire gaze upon her cousin, "you will leave the two of us alone and keep Will occupied. I wish to make the better acquaintance of this girl without you gushing over her." Unable to resist the impetuous giggle, Candela covered her mouth and barely glanced at the blushing Marquis.
"You go on." She added in, finding herself growing more comfortable with the Duchess.
"If you're sure, my dear…?" Candela nodded and he disappeared away into another part of the mansion while the two women hurried into the parlor where a roaring fire and tea waited for them. After several minutes filled with the crackling of fire and stirring of tea, the Duchess spoke up,
"Now, do tell me how a kitchen maid managed to begin courting a Marquis. It must be quite a story!"
E-OC
"What do you think, Darius?" Nadir asked as he relaxed in front of a fire, sipping away on some Persian tea and staring into the dancing flames. The servant, settled comfortably into his own chair, took a sip of tea before responding,
"I don't know, sir. You know her far better than I do, but if I were to hazard an opinion, I would declare she isn't happy. She had lied to herself long enough that she had convinced herself to be happy." After Nadir rolled the thoughts around in his head for a few moments, he nodded in agreement.
"I believe I agree with you. She convinced us all. He loves her, that poor man. He loves her so much. But she doesn't love him back."
"She is fond of him." Darius remarked. "But, perhaps more of his position."
"She's no gold-digger!" Nadir cried, appalled that his servant might believe such a low thing of such a fine woman.
"Yes, sir! She is not so low as that. But, allow me to explain. While she does care for the Marquis and she would never dream of hurting him, she wants nothing more than to not be a servant for all her life. In that way, she is seeking his place over himself." Darius rose and filled his master's tea before continuing. "She means no harm but if she doesn't realize some things quickly, she will hurt herself and him with her misery."
After glancing at his pocket watch, he scurried away to the kitchen to fetch his scones from the oven. Upon returning, he doled them out and sat back down in his chair.
"Might I inquire what prompted this line of thinking?"
"I spoke to Erik this afternoon over 'tea' and found some disturbing things."
"What things? Is he well?" Darius leaned forward, keen to learn about Master Erik. While he had never been well-acquainted with his master's friend, what little knowledge he had lended itself to a kind sort of pity.
"The fool doesn't know it yet but, I fear, he is falling in love."
E-OC
The elegant tea cup, hand painted with roses and edged in a film of gold, paused halfway to Candela's lips and might have fallen except for the quick action of the Duchess, grabbing it before it plummeted to the floor.
"I am so sorry! I shouldn't have shocked you like that. It's just, I remembered you the moment I saw you and I was simply curious." The Spaniard's hands shook violently and her heart threatened to cease beating as she desperately tried to think of something to say.
"I'm…I'm sorry." She stammered, rising to her feet and wondering momentarily if disappearing could be an option. Her secret, so well kept for a half of a year, had been revealed, revealed so easily. The Duchess knew it all. A brief word given to the Marquis would ruin their whole relationship. She had hoped to break it to him kindly, if she told him at all.
Now, everything was known.
Candela found the tendril of relief weaving along with the ones of panic and terror more disturbing than any of the others.
"Don't apologize, my dear. Here, sit back down. I'm not upset." The Duchess remarked kindly, giving her a gentle smile and the teacup back.
"How did you know?" Candela gasped and, not trusting herself with the teacup, set it back onto the tray.
"I never forget a face. I was here three years ago and went down to the kitchen to thank the cooks for their kindness is making a lovely dinner, despite my cousin's discouragement. Well, before anyone noticed me, I watched the kitchen servants mingling. The cook was upset with you and lashed out severely towards you over the cooking of the vegetables, apparently, something you weren't a part of. You snap back at her, holding your own easily. I never forgot that."
Candela blushed and ducked her head. The scene she had mentioned played out multiple times over her five-year employ as a kitchen maid.
"Yes, that would be me. The cook hated me. I never bowed to her will and determined to better myself with learning to read and write. As an uneducated woman herself, she grew jealous over my expanding knowledge. She'd never had the drive to learn herself and she tried to stop me."
"That's a disgrace! I'm glad you never let her get to you and keep you back. You've done well for yourself."
"What are you going to do now you know I'm not a middle-class woman? That I am a servant." There was no point in dodging the situation at hand. Her future now lay in the hands of this Duchess, a woman she didn't remember and who, despite her kindness, might not be so favorable now.
English nobility and whatnot.
"You seem to be a sweet girl, more subdued then I remember but perhaps the years haven't been so kind. I see no reason to tell all your secrets to my cousin. It is not my place. They are yours to tell him when and if you please." While her cousin's previous experience with courting a woman of modest means hadn't ended well, this girl struck her as a sturdier sort who cared for more than just the Marquis's wealth.
"Thank you. I appreciate this. He doesn't know yet and I would like to break it to him in my own fashion." If that would ever happen. If the time never came, Candela wouldn't feel sorry for its lack. A lie can go on for years.
"I'll leave that to your judgement. Now, tell me about yourself and how you managed to begin courting my cousin." Passing the girl her cup of tea once more, the Duchess settled deeper into her chair, eager to hear the story.
E-OC
"Love?" Darius exclaimed, his eyes widening. "But, what of the Comtesse? Didn't Master Erik swear to love her forever? He nearly died of it, sir!"
"I know. He has yet to come to terms with it. He still believes himself in love with Christine. When I asked him, he grew very angry. I don't think we need fear what he will do to her or the Marquis. The poor man is struggling with emotions which he cannot name or is too afraid to name." Draining the dregs of the teapot, Nadir flavored it to his taste. "I once thought the worst thing that could ever happen to him was to fall in love. I was right last time. I don't want to be right again."
"Master, perhaps, Candela might love him in return? She is a strong girl and is under no deceptions as to who he is. She could love him." Nadir scoffed, shaking his head.
"No, no, she is a courted woman and Erik is her employer. Her sense of propriety wouldn't allow it. It is a pity though, she would make a fine wife." Lightly sipping on his final cup of tea, Nadir allowed his mind to dream about how it might happen.
They would be such a madly in love couple, always making eyes at each other. Several months after the wedding, Candela's stomach would grow with their first child. Erik, of course, would be terrified but accepting of the addition. She would give them a perfect child and would name Nadir the godfather despite Erik's protests.
It would such a lovely life for them all.
Shaking his head, he set his cup aside, not having the heart to finish it.
"Things might change." Darius suggested, his tone hopeful.
"I don't think they will."
E-OC
"That is quite a story. This past year has been an interesting one for you." The Duchess stood up and rang the bell for the tea tray to be taken away.
"Yes, it has, Madame."
"Oh, please call me Reine. No need to be so formal. If my cousin keeps up his courting, we'll be related by marriage and hopefully remain friends." The maid, a girl who Candela didn't recognize, whisked into and disappeared with the tray.
"Thank you…Reine."
"Think nothing of it. Now, I had a thought and I want your help with it. I'm planning a Christmas Eve party to be held here with all our old friends and maybe even the few family we have in the city. It'll be a nice little gathered and I want you to aid me." The Duchess's blue eye sparkled mischievously as schemes and theories ran through her head, her eyes imagining the regal beauty of the place once it was finished.
"Aid you? What do you mean?"
"Well, it's hard to put on a party with just one person's ideas. The Marquis won't help me and, I need someone. So, I thought you might be able to give me a few ideas?" Candela paused for a moment, letting the idea of a party warm on her. Never in her life had she attended a proper party, only seen them from behind the cracks of doors.
"I'd love to help!" She exclaimed, the party eliciting excitement from her.
"Wonderful! Let me fetch some paper and we can begin to conceptualize."
E-OC
As he inked the last name onto the cast list of the opera, most of them being those who were currently employed with a few minor exceptions, he turned his attention back to the lead soprano spot, empty as it had been when he had begun.
The current would have to leave immediately, of course. He had listened to her that afternoon before retreating into his house and determined Carlotta had a finer voice.
Auditions were a trial but they would have to be held.
Rising to his feet, he knocked a stack of papers off his organ, the parchments crashing and a scrap formerly on the bottom of the pile, fluttering down on top of the toppled mess. Picking it up, he skimmed over contains, a former cast list from a year and half back.
At the top of the list, he stared at the name, read it several times in his mind and smiled quietly.
"Perfect." Picking up the quill in his hand once more, he carefully scratched in elegant red scrip:
Christine Daaé.