Paladin 36

Erik stared at their joined hands for a moment, snowflakes clinging to his eyelashes as her grip tightened.

She had looked so frightened when their eyes had first met, but now that she stood before him she appeared calmer, relieved.

"Mademoiselle," he whispered.

Sophia nodded. "The Manor is the other direction, Monsieur."

Erik wasn't certain why, but he felt ashamed of himself for wanting to wander away. He looked away from her for a moment, his insides churning. It was impossible, he thought. Surely this must have been a mistake. She had returned to him of her own accord. His green eyes fixed on her again, his heart beating wildly as he was almost certain she would disappear, lost to the snow and his own memory.

But Sophia was still there, still standing with her hand in his and a weak smile on her face.

"Your brother will worry," he said softly. "If you're out of his sight…"

"He's watching," she said, glancing over his shoulder.

Erik looked over her shoulder and saw Philippe standing just within eyesight, arms wrapped tightly around his midsection as he stood near a tree, which was breaking the vicious, bitter wind.

"Monsieur," Sophia said suddenly, taking a step toward him. Her teeth were chattering, and Erik wasn't sure if it was from nerves or the freezing temperature, but he assumed that with her face, neck and hands exposed she was cold.

Releasing her hands, he unclasped his cloak and draped it over her shoulders.

"No, Monsieur, don't," Sophia said. "You'll freeze."

"I'm well accustomed to the cold," he replied as he handed her his gloves. The wind cut through him, and even though he would never take his warm garments from her, he knew that he would be feverish the following day. It didn't matter if he spent a week ill. He would do anything for her, anything at all to prove how much he cared for her.

Sophia shook her head. "Your lips are turning blue already," she said. "Please, it's freezing. You and my brother both will die from cold."

"Keep it," he said, his words more forceful than he had intended. He looked into her eyes and saw a tear slipping to her cheek, which was red from the cold. A bruise beneath her eye was turning her skin dark blue, and it angered him to think Turro had hit her.

"Did he?"

Sophia pursed her lips before the pain from the swelling made her grimace. She cast her eyes downward and pressed them shut, lips trembling before she forced herself to stop.

Without a second thought Erik brushed the tear away with his index finger and looked away from her. "So that you don't freeze," he muttered.

Sophia took a deep breath. "I would like to return home now," she said softly.

When Erik glanced at her again he saw her eyes fixed on the iron gates leading to Turro's home. She looked petrified, her face taut and eyes wide.

Erik placed his hand on her shoulder and cautiously grasped her, afraid of hurting or frightening her. She became rigid at his touch, but she didn't pull away, and once he was certain she trusted him enough he held her arm and turned her away from the estate.

She was shaking as they walked away, her body pressed against his side, providing him more warmth than she realized. Neither of them spoke; merely walked together, his hand still against her arm, numb from the wind and snow lashing against his exposed skin.

"Why, Monsieur?" Sophia asked before they reached Philippe, whose dark hair was now dusted with snow. He turned and began walking, barely glancing at either of them as they approached.

"I beg your pardon, Mademoiselle?"

"Why did you come for me?" she whispered, watching him from the corner of her good eye.

His hand left her arm and touched the back of her head, his fingers lost in her thick hair. He studied the side of her face as they walked and saw a shy smile cross her lips as her gaze lowered, black lashes covering her eyes.

There should not have been bruises on her face. Sophia should have been safe and warm in her own home. Their evening should have been spent with her rehearsing at the piano and him listening to her play.

"Because," Erik replied softly, not knowing what else to say. There were so many things he wanted to tell her, but nothing seemed appropriate at this moment.

Erik was tired of doing everything wrong, of the things he wanted slipping from his grasp. As he looked at Sophia he realized his feelings for her, the emotions that couldn't be denied. She was bold, frustrating, maddening, yet kind and respectful. She was unafraid when he was near her, and she treated him in ways no one else had treated him.

She made him feel ordinary, which had always been an intangible dream. She made him feel as though he were not a monster, not a loathsome, terrible creature. When she looked at him he felt like nothing more than a man, one who could live in the world without the fear of being seen.

With a deep breath he mustered up his nerve and started to close his eyes, intending to kiss the side of her head. He wanted to show her how he felt.

Just as he leaned in Sophia pulled away, her eyes widening as she stared ahead. "The carriage," she said, glancing at Erik. "It's Gabe and Citrine. Oh, thank God."

And just like that she was gone from his side again.

-o-

Citrine threw a blanket over Sophia the moment she entered the carriage. She started to question her friend, but Philippe said he wanted silence, and with a frown Citrine sat back and folded her arms.

"Where is Er…Monsieur Belmont?" Sophia asked Philippe. "He was right behind me."

Philippe didn't answer, but his frustration was clear by his tight-lipped expression. He started to rise, but they heard Gabe greeting Erik.

After several moments of waiting, the carriage door opened again, and with his eyes averted Erik took his seat beside Philippe and stared out the window as the coach pulled away. Philippe closed his eyes and rested his head against the window. Sophia stared at their employer for a while, her bruised eyes forlornly attempting to garner his attention, but his gaze was trained elsewhere. With a sigh Sophia snuggled in close to Citrine and closed her eyes, leaving only Erik awake.

"Your dog wanted to follow us," Citrine said as she stroked Sophia's hair. "Gabe had to tie him up in the kitchen so he couldn't get out."

"He should stay outside," Erik muttered.

Their conversation ended and no one said another word until the carriage pulled into the drive and Gabe opened the door.

Sophia and Philippe returned home immediately, but not before Philippe offered Erik a handshake and his sincere gratitude for "all he had done to assist Sophia." Erik appeared nonplussed, and though she tried not to stare, Citrine saw the pain in his eyes as he turned and walked into his own home. It was the same expression in Sophia's eyes as she walked inside and retired for the night.

"He hit her pretty good," Gabe commented as they stood outside alone. He shook his head. "Poor girl."

"She's fortunate," Citrine replied. "Provided nothing else happened to her."

Gabe made no reply. He scratched his forehead and sighed as he told Citrine to go inside before she froze to death. She bade him goodnight and turned toward her own home behind Sophia and Philippe's. Then she heard Fidelio bay at his master's return.

Cursing under her breath, Citrine scurried through the front door and into the kitchen, expecting to find Erik dragging Fidelio out by the scruff of his neck. She stopped herself in the doorway when she saw him crouched down beside the dog, who was wriggling all over in delight.

Erik had untied Fidelio from the stove and was holding the rope in one hand as he fed him scraps with the other. As quietly as she could, Citrine left the kitchen and snuck out the front door before she was noticed.

-o-

Sophia stood in the darkness and stared out her bedroom window, seeing Citrine wrap her cloak around herself and jog down the path toward the home she shared with one of the maids.

Philippe had said little once they were home, and as he placed logs onto the fire she asked him if he was upset.

"With myself," he answered weakly.

She lingered for a while and hoped he would face her, but after a few moments she heard him sniffle. He waved her away, which made Sophia's heart sink. With her head lowered she returned to her room and closed the door, bursting into tears before the door clicked into place.

An hour had passed since they had returned home, but Sophia was still too frightened to close her eyes. Each time she glanced at her bed she could still feel Karl holding her down. It made her sick to her stomach to think of him.

With her hands over her mouth she sobbed again, her forehead pressed against the cool glass of the window and Erik's cloak still draped over her shoulders. The glass fogged from her breath so she closed her eyes and wrapped her hands around her body, hugging herself in an embrace that gave her no comfort.

Eventually Sophia exhausted herself. She rubbed her eyes and took one final look at the still night. Her eyes were drawn to the Manor and the light in the upper window. A shadow lingered, another person awake and alone.

Sophia pressed her hand to the glass and sighed, feeling increasingly miserable. She wondered if he could see her staring out her window, unable to sleep.

His room went dark suddenly and he was gone. Sophia's eyes widened in the dark, her vision straining to locate him but he was gone.

She yawned and winced, her lip bleeding again. As quiet as a mouse she walked into the hall and looked for something to place on her bruises, but there was nothing. Everything was kept in the main house. As she stood in the kitchen she considered whether or not she should walk to the main house. The windows were dark, she reasoned, and he was possibly already asleep. Besides, she told herself, he wouldn't mind. If he said anything she would explain herself and hand him his cloak.

"He won't know I'm there," she whispered to herself as she walked out into the snow.