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Paladin27

Together Sophia and Citrine cleaned and dressed Dublin's wounded foot and moved him into the parlor where they felt he would be more comfortable. Citrine placed old blankets on the ground while Sophia added an extra log to the fire to keep him warm. The dog licked at his bandages but appeared content once Citrine placed a bowl of water in front of him.

While they worked Citrine said nothing of seeing Sophia and Monsieur Belmont together in the kitchen. She had stopped the moment she heard them speaking and had tiptoed down the hall.

Citrine had never seen a man attempt to fight his feelings for a woman with such valor. Despite his attempts to ignore Sophia he couldn't help but lean toward her. His actions and words even made Citrine's heart stop. She had stood and watched them stand by side, neither one of them willing to make the first move, to extend and join hands.

It had been terribly difficult to eavesdrop without yelling at the two of them for their foolishness. Even someone without eyes could see that Sophia had no interest in Monsieur Turro. Her feelings were reserved for Monsieur Belmont. He, however, would never admit to his feelings for Sophia.

He was a fool, she thought with a smirk as she tucked Dublin into his makeshift bed. A fool in need of a push in the right direction. She fed Dublin breadcrumbs she had saved for the birds and allowed him to lave her hand while Sophia finished wrapping the last bandage on his foot.

"It's an awful lot of fuss for a dog, don't you think?" Sophia asked after Citrine had scratched the dog's belly so much that he dozed off.

Citrine shrugged. "It's nice to have something to take care of." She smiled and patted Dublin's chest as she spoke to him like an infant. "Especially some poor creature who never had anyone to love him, isn't that right?"

"Look at him," Sophia said, nodding toward the dog. "He's a glutton. You're spoiling him."

"He has a right to be a glutton. He would have died out there tonight if Monsieur Belmont hadn't found him."

Sophia patted the dog's head but made no reply.

"He stormed out of here," Citrine commented.

Sophia glanced at Citrine and made a face. "So?"

Citrine shrugged again. "So he must not be very pleased with the way you played the piano."

"I haven't played yet."

"Ah."

Sophia crossed her arms and cocked her head to the side. "What does that mean?"

"Nothing."

"Out with it, Citrine."

"You were in there for a half hour. What did you learn?"

Sophia scoffed. "You're being ridiculous."

Citrine feigned surprise. "I didn't say a word, Mademoiselle. It's just that I've never heard of piano lessons in which the student doesn't play the piano. Did you discuss music?"

Sophia's cheeks reddened and she turned away. "We did nothing at all. He dropped his music and he was angry. Then he simply stormed out of the room and left me sitting there alone."

"You forget I was standing in the kitchen, Sophia. You left first—and in quite a huff, I might add."

Sophia sighed. "You should mind your own business, Citrine," she muttered, though her tone was too light for her to be truly angry with her friend.

Citrine laughed to herself. "You must think up better stories if you're going to lie."

Sophia sobered at her words. For a while she stared at the dog before she finally sighed. "He's…I'm not sure. He acts as though he wants to teach me, but then I don't know if he even wants me in the room with him. I think I'm a burden to him. But he's the one who offered to teach me! I wish that man would make up his mind. He's simply dreadful, don't you think?"

Citrine blinked. "Simply dreadful," she mocked.

Sophia rolled her eyes in aggravation. "You are enjoying this, aren't you? You think there's something … impure between us?"

"I said no such thing. You're feeling guilty for absolutely no reason."

Sophia's lips twitched but she didn't reply. Clearly flustered, she turned away and straightened the skirt on the piano bench.

Citrine rose to her feet. "I'll take Monsieur Belmont his supper. What are you going to do? If you're smart you'll stay away from your brother, Sophia. He was livid when he was looking for you earlier."

Sophia frowned. The ceiling creaked as Erik walked across his room and she glanced up. "I told him my eye gives me a headache sometimes and that today it was worse than usual. He won't be happy, but he won't argue—at least not until I'm feeling better."

"Did you see Monsieur Turro?"

Sophia shook her head. "I heard him say he was 'very disappointed'," she imitated, making her voice deeper as she gestured with her hands. "But I'm sure he will arrange something for us tomorrow."

Citrine nodded. "And then what will your excuse be?"

Sophia glared at Citrine. "That wasn't an excuse."

Citrine made a face but didn't argue. She too was looking at the ceiling as their employer began playing his violin.

Both girls stood side-by-side and stared at the ceiling as he played, each of them following the sound of his movements across the floor.

Citrine didn't recognize the song but it sounded like a requiem. She glanced at Sophia and saw that she had closed her eyes while she listened. She was standing on the tips of her toes as though trying to get closer to the music's origin.

Or its creator. Citrine couldn't decide which. It was obvious to her that Sophia had feelings for him, even though she attempted to hide them.

The dog at their feet whimpered again and broke their silence.

"Would you give Dublin some table scraps while I take MonsieurBelmont his supper?" Citrine asked. "Or would you rather I care for the dog?"

Sophia shook her head. "I'll bring the dog some food. You take care of…Monsieur Belmont."

"Are you certain?" Citrine prodded.

Sophia nodded but didn't turn to face Citrine.

"I would rather care for the dog."

Citrine smiled, seeing Sophia's devious expression reflected in the wall mirror.

"Now Dublin, you leave that bandage on, do you hear me?" she said over her shoulder.

The dog yawned and whined again, which made Citrine laugh. She left the parlor and reached into her apron pocket where she had a few breadcrumbs remaining. As she walked she dropped them onto the floor until she reached the stairs. Then, after leaving one on each stair, she returned to the kitchen.

"Someone has to do something," she said to herself.

-o-

Once he stripped off his clothes and hung them over the back of his chair, Erik changed into a dry lawn shirt and trousers. He was still shivering, so he added the last log to his fire and sat before it, rubbing his hands together as he waited for his teeth to stop chattering and his hair to dry.

He felt strange having saved the dog. It wasn't in his nature to think of other things, other people or animals. Years of seeing animals and people beaten into submission at the circus had desensitized him. Years of being beaten into submission himself had allowed him to block out almost all feeling, he thought.

And then there was Christine, who had brought new feelings to the surface, new sensations he had never before experienced yet he couldn't understand how he had lived without them. She left him feeling as though he were drunk, as though the ground was unsteady and the air was heavy. She made him feel more alive than he had ever been in his life.

At first he had enjoyed how she hypnotized him. It made him want to utilize Box Five, which he had claimed years before noticing her. He wanted to inch closer, to stand with her on the stage, or at least in the orchestra pit.

He wanted to touch her, and at first it had been nothing more than the innocent desire to know what her skin felt like. He wanted to feel warmth.

An ember popped from the hearth and landed on his shoe, which drew him from his daydreams. He stood up and stretched, his muscles feeling tight and his body still chilled. If he continued to sit he knew he would never be warm, so he picked up his violin and decided to play awhile.

In the parlor below he could hear Sophia and Citrine's muffled voices.

Erik grumbled to himself that at least something in the house was receiving attention. He chided himself for being envious of a dog. The poor thing was fortunate it didn't understand their constant babbling. He could just lie on the floor with his legs in the air as they clamored on and rubbed his belly.

At least he could work uninterrupted, he thought.

Cold soon gave way to a fever, and Erik wondered what Citrine had done with his supper. He placed his violin into its case again and considered walking down to the kitchen to see what she was doing. If that dog had its supper before he did there would be Hell to pay, he muttered to himself.

Donning his waistcoat and cravat, Erik glanced once in the mirror before combing his hair back. He tugged at his overcoat sleeves and gave a curt nod.

Footsteps drew his attention to his bedroom door and he walked across the room, intending to snarl at Citrine so she would leave him be for the remainder of the evening. He didn't want to risk her questioning him about Sophia or talking about the dog. He had done as much as he wanted for the animal. If it lived then it lived, and if it died then it was nature's way.

He pulled the door open and found Sophia climbing the stairs. At his door stood the injured dog, it's bandaged paw held in the air and his soft brown eyes staring up.

Erik glanced from the dog to Sophia and back again.

"Take him downstairs," Erik ordered.

"I tried. He came up on his own accord and went straight for your room," she said. "God knows why," she said under her breath.

Erik's cold gaze settled on her, which made her turn away. "Speak louder if you have something to say to me."

Sophia glared at him a moment before she patted her knee. "Come on, Dublin."

The dog sat down and began licking at its bandage.

"No, Dublin, stop that," Sophia yelled. She looked at Erik and turned her head to the side. "Make him stop."

Erik stared at the dog, which sniffed the floor and then Erik's shoe before he moved his foot away. The dog looked up at him, his tongue lolling from his mouth.

"Take him away," Erik ordered.

"Dublin, come on," Sophia called, tapping her leg again.

Dublin lifted his head enough for Erik's fingers to skim past his ears, but Erik stepped back once the dog licked his pant leg and rubbed his face against his knee.

"Mademoiselle, take him downstairs. I don't much care for animals. If he's up here again he'll be outside," Erik snarled.

Dublin, oblivious to Erik's words, nudged his head through the doorway and began wagging his tail as he limped forward.

"Found a new friend, did you?" Citrine asked from the bottom of the stairs.

Both Erik and Sophia turned their attention to Citrine, while Dublin lumbered into Erik's room unnoticed.

"I want him back downstairs. I'm not—" he looked around and exhaled hard. "Where in the hell—"

Erik turned and saw the dog sniffing his blankets. He closed his eyes for a moment and attempted to control his anger.

He refused to care for a dog. He couldn't care for an animal; he had no experience in caring for anything other than his music.

"Here's your food," Citrine said as she followed Erik into his room and set the tray on his desk.

"I'll excuse you both from your duties if this animal isn't out of my room at once," Erik said through his teeth.

"I understand, Monsieur, but he was bound to like you. Why, you saved his life tonight. He's showing his gratitude."

Sophia stepped through the doorway and Erik followed her gaze as the dog stood on his hind legs and prepared to jump on the bed.

"Dublin!" Citrine scolded. "Where are your manners?"

"Mademoiselle—"

"Monsieur Belmont, I assure you that once I bring Dublin's food into the parlor he'll leave you alone. A dog's loyalty only extends to his stomach sometimes, and I know he's starving to death."

"I'll get it," Sophia said as she turned to leave.

"No, you make sure Dublin doesn't remove that bandage. I'll fix him something for his dinner."

Before Sophia and Erik could protest Citrine was gone. They both stared at the dog, which had curled up at the foot of the bed and closed his eyes. In silent satisfaction, he wagged his tail.