Paladin44

The first few minutes were awkward, their encounters interrupted by Philippe clearing his throat each time Erik's shoulders touched Sophia's. At last Sophia turned and glared at her brother, which made him finally settle into his chair and stare at the ceiling.

The fact that Sophia acted so bold before her brother—and that Philippe made no argument—surprised Erik, but he said nothing and went forward with her lessons.

As the night wore on, Erik realized he was much more exhausted than he initially anticipated. He hid his first few yawns successfully, but after a while Sophia was also excusing herself as she turned away and fanned her face.

For the most part Erik was pleased with her progress, though he noticed she still preferred hearing him play rather than practicing herself. It didn't matter, he knew. She seemed quite honored to have a song of her own, and when he saw Sophia's smile he felt the greatest sense of pride he had ever experienced. It was then that he realized how he truly felt for her, that his emotions were garnered by something real, something tangible at last. In a matter of measures he fell for her, more completely than he thought was possible to feel close and connected to another human being.

As much as Erik wanted to say something, he felt Philippe's presence in the room, which kept him silent and at a respectable distance.

"We should call it an evening," Sophia suggested once she could no longer hide her exhaustion. "We're both clearly…not ourselves quite yet."

Erik nodded and glanced over his shoulder, finding Philippe with his chin resting against his chest. He turned to Sophia, who had also noticed her brother asleep.

"It appears some have already called it a night," Sophia whispered.

Erik nodded. "You should wake him."

Sophia looked to Philippe again and bit her lip. "I know my brother. He would prefer to rest his eyes for a moment longer."

Erik studied Sophia closely, noting the mischief in her gaze. At last he nodded as she tinkered with the piano, playing random notes to fill the space when neither of them spoke.

Without thinking Erik placed his hand over hers, which vanquished the soft music from the room. His heart beat so wildly in response to his brazen move that he heard nothing over the rush of blood. He waited, breath held, his hopes teetering on whether or not she allowed him one moment to merely touch her hand, to feel her soft skin and know without a doubt that she was real.

"Sophia," he whispered as her hand turned, fingers clasping his.

Fragments of unhappiness shattered inside him. His life, his pain, his hatred ebbed as he gazed into her eyes and saw the utter astonishment on her face.

Her shyness encouraged his confidence to return, and with one quick glance to make certain Philippe was still sleeping, Erik brought her hand to his lips and kissed her softly.

She trembled in his grasp, but her smile reassured him that she wasn't afraid of him. She was just as nervous and insecure, just as frightened as he was of losing something they both felt.

Erik studied her face, his gaze drawn to her swollen lip. The moment he saw the damage Karl Turro had done to her, he knew that he couldn't kiss her without causing her pain.

In lieu of a kiss, Erik settled for a tender caress. He grazed the backs of his fingers along her cheek, savoring their contact, at the way her expression softened. He watched her swallow as her eyes closed, her hand still clasped in his holding him tighter. He traced her chin, his fingers sweeping up to touch her other cheek. Careful to avoid her bruises, he trailed a line to her temple and the sensitive spot before her ear that made her inhale sharply.

Tucking her hair behind her ear, he kissed her hand again and felt her lean into him. She rested her cheek on his shoulder just long enough for him to hold her.

"I don't want you as my mistress," he whispered, kissing the shell of her ear.

She nodded. "I don't want to be your mistress," she confessed.

Erik was about to speak, but Philippe woke to the sound of Fidelio barking in the yard and announced that it was time to return home.

"What hour is it?" Philippe mumbled as he rubbed his eyes.

Erik shot back on the piano bench, catching himself before he fell over. "It's," he said, searching for his pocket watch. "It's almost midnight."

With a grunt Philippe rose to his feet. "Come, Sophia, it's late and you need your rest."

Sophia turned away from Philippe so that he couldn't see her blushing, though her hand remained in Erik's just long enough for her to squeeze his fingers.

"Tomorrow night, then?" she inquired.

Erik rose and saw her to the door. "If your brother gives his permission."

"Wiser words have never been spoken," Philippe said under his breath before he walked from the room. "Sophia, please."

Sophia lingered a moment longer. "Good night, Erik."

With a bow, Erik released her hand and nodded. "Sleep well, Sophia."

Now all he had to do was release her from employment.

-o-

Philippe walked in ahead of Sophia and turned up the lamps.

"It seems as though you play quite well," he said over his shoulder.

Sophia allowed herself to smile, but she checked herself and attempted to remain humble, fearing Philippe would suspect something from her demeanor.

"Modest, are you?" Philippe teased. He took Sophia's cloak and put it away for her before following her down the hall to their respective rooms.

"I'm still learning," Sophia answered.

Crossing his arms, Philippe leaned against the wall and nodded. "You will improve, I have no doubt."

Sophia looked away, startled by her brother's words. "Then I may continue my lessons?"

Philippe looked her over in silence, his eyes drawn first to her hands and then to her face. "As long as it remains musical endeavors and not whispers and inappropriate nonsense."

Sophia felt her heart stutter. Her mouth went dry and she forced a nod.

Philippe inhaled and shook his head. "Honestly, Sophia, did you think I would be so foolish as to nap when it's clear Monsieur Belmont wants more than a student to share his…musical…talent?"

Her cheeks reddened in a combination of anger and embarrassment.

With a finger to her chin, Philippe lifted her face. "I consented to your lessons because he expressed his true wishes, Sophia. But know that despite his best intentions of nobility and a proper courtship, he will not keep you as part of his staff if he decides to pursue you."

Sophia's eyes narrowed. "I don't understand."

"You are either a proper woman employed elsewhere whom he may pursue or you are a mistress beneath his roof. Those are your choices."

Sophia stared blankly at her brother. "Elsewhere?"

Philippe's expression softened. "I will contact Auntie. Perhaps she may have an idea. Get some rest, Sophia. We will discuss it tomorrow."