NDBR's: There was a surprising amount of changes in this chapter from what was posted on the board.

Paladin64

Sophia woke sobbing, arms and legs thrashing beneath her tangled bed sheets. The weight of Fidelio's body against her hip had conjured up a nightmare that refused to release her as each dreadful moment was reenacted in her mind.

Arms gripped her shoulders, firm but gentle. With a yelp, Sophia turned rigid, her knees curling toward her chest.

"It's only me," Citrine cooed as she held Sophia close, caressing her frightened companion's hair. What was meant to be a soothing gesture instead felt like needles scraping down Sophia's spine, pin pricks of the misery she feared would never end.

"A bad dream, nothing more," Citrine continued. "I'm here with you, Sophia, and I promise I won't leave. The dream is over, my dear, it's not real."

"It wasn't a dream," Sophia said, bone weary as she fell back on her pillow and covered her eyes with her hands. Fidelio furiously licked her face, lapping up her tears as he whined, voicing his concern.

Citrine nodded. "Gabe is outside the door. Would you like him to sleep in the chair?" she offered.

Sophia shook her head and glanced toward the window. It was almost dawn, but her night of terror seemed far from over. "Where is Philippe?"

"As far as I know he's still with Monsieur Belmont."

Sophia pursed her lips. "They're still together? I thought Philippe would return soon."

"Let me see if he has returned to his room. Or would you prefer to accompany me?"

Sophia nodded and slid her feet onto the floor, shoving Fidelio out of her way. With a grunt he lumbered toward the door, his body wriggling in delight of their impending adventure.

"I'll allow him outside as well since we're awake," Citrine said as they walked down the hall.

Sophia stopped and pushed Philippe's door open and found the bed untouched. She frowned, pulling her shawl tighter as she wandered down the hall to meet Citrine and Gabe, who was rubbing his tired eyes.

"Do you need anything, Mademoiselle?" Gabe asked without looking directly at Sophia. His voice was hoarse from sleep, which he attempted to clear by coughing.

"A warmer house, Gabe, before we all freeze to death," Citrine said with a shiver. "I'm taking the dog outside."

Sophia remained several feet behind Citrine as she opened the door. Fidelio, who had left Sophia to sniff around the armchair, sprinted out the door when he heard the hinges creak.

"Goodness," Sophia whispered as she watched the dog head straight toward a dark form that was nearing the house. The figure, a man dressed only in his evening clothes, had something in his hand that Sophia could not discern. Panic filled her insides and fearing for Fidelio's safety, Sophia screamed.

Gabe braced her by the shoulders before she fell backward, and with her strength exhausted, Sophia allowed him to support her.

"Oh, God," Sophia whispered. She couldn't breathe, much less comprehend, what was happening. "Oh, Citrine, shut the door," she pleaded.

-o-

Erik froze in the middle of the yard when he heard Sophia scream, as he hadn't expected anyone to be awake at such an hour. His intentions were to leave the portfolio by the back door and open the smokehouse, hoping either Karl had slipped into a coma or found good use of the blade Erik had left within reach.

But his intentions were foiled. Citrine and Sophia were awake, as was Gabe. Clutching the portfolio under his arm, Erik felt gooseflesh rise along his arms and the back of his neck. She was still fifty paces away and yet he had frightened her.

His head dropped down as he turned to leave.

"No, no, it's Monsieur Belmont," Erik heard Citrine say over her shoulder. "See? He's coming to check on you."

Erik glanced over his shoulder and saw that Sophia refused to move. She hugged her body as Gabe placed his blanket over her shoulders.

With his gaze fixed on Sophia, Erik hadn't seen Fidelio tear out of the door. However, a dog of Fidelio's size could not be ignored, and with his uncontainable delight, the dog placed his paws on Erik's abdomen and nearly knocked him to the ground.

"Down," Erik said firmly before he bent and grabbed a fistful of the dog's wavy fur and gave him a harmless tug. Fidelio sat, his tail wagging furiously as he waited for his master's approval.

"You best come inside before you freeze to death," Citrine suggested. Sophia remained behind Citrine, her arms folded, closing herself off from everyone.

"With the permission of…the Mademoiselle," Erik stammered.

His eyes met Sophia's and found relief in her gaze. She nodded and motioned him in, clinging tighter to her shawl.

Fidelio, his tail wagging so violently that he nearly knocked himself over, trotted in circles around Erik until he had his master herded to the front door. Once he had Erik on the doorstep he bounded off to finish his business and investigate the smokehouse one last time. The animal released a low growl, which Erik assumed indicated that Turro was still alive.

"Where is Monsieur Dupree?" Citrine questioned, glancing at the yard behind Erik.

"Resting," Erik answered.

"He shouldn't sleep so long, Monsieur. He took quite a blow to the head."

"I woke him an hour ago."

Citrine nodded, seemingly approving of his skills. She cleared her throat and motioned for him to sit. "Did I feed you this evening?" she asked, winking as she reached for her apron.

"I had supper," Erik replied, awkwardly staring at the wall. It wasn't Citrine who made him nervous, it was Gabe standing to the side with his arms crossed.

"Gabe, did you eat?" Citrine asked, giving the horse master's son no chance to reply. "No? I didn't think so. Come with me into the kitchen. Sophia, do you care to join us?"

Erik held his breath as he glanced at Sophia and then at one of the lamps. He was standing in the same spot where he had last held her, where Sophia had come to life in his arms and asked him not to touch her.

"I will stay in here," Sophia said. He knew she was staring at him. Erik felt her eyes on his face but couldn't bring himself to meet her gaze. Cowardly, he thought. He'd always been a coward hiding from the world and now he was a coward hiding from Sophia. She was the one who was injured. Why couldn't he think of her first?

"Very well," Citrine said as she headed toward the front door and whistled. "I will return in a moment."

Fidelio returned once Citrine whistled for him and shook off the snow he'd accumulated from a roll in the yard. Rather than seek his master's attention, he trotted to the rug before the fire, circled twice, and plopped down.

Erik exhaled softly and waited until both Gabe and Citrine were gone before he dared to look at Sophia. Her face was twisted, her tears barely contained.

"I've made a fool of myself," she whispered as she wiped her eyes.

He shook his head, the distance between them unbearable. He could extend his hand to her, take a step or two closer, and gather her in his arms. Many words pulsed through his mind, the sentiments he'd written and ultimately thrown away as he sat hunched over his desk.

"Sophia, I love you." "Sophia, you've nothing to apologize for, you've done nothing wrong." "Sophia, I will do whatever you ask." "Sophia, do you fear me?" "Sophia, do you trust me?"

In the end, there was only one way he knew to express himself, to tell her that he cared very deeply for her. Words were never his forte. He didn't think in terms of dialog, of poetry or prose. His thoughts were etched in scales, F minor, D major…A language he wished to teach her as well.

"Do you wish to sit?" Erik asked at last, keeping his voice low.

Sophia nodded. "Thank you," she said under her breath, seemingly relieved.

"In your room?" Erik asked, uncertain of where she would be comfortable.

She shook her head quickly. "Here," she said.

Together they sat, her chair facing the window and his facing the fireplace. Erik rose after several moments of silence and placed his leather folder in his seat before he added more wood to the fire. He didn't turn to face Sophia, but he felt her watching him again.

"You do not owe anyone an apology," he said, closing his eyes to the growing blaze. "And you've not made a fool of yourself."

Sophia sniffled but didn't reply. Erik felt Fidelio rub against his leg and he turned to find Sophia standing with her hands on the back of her chair. Fidelio released a sigh and trotted into the kitchen, the quest for food outweighing his desire to stay with two awkward individuals suspended in their own uncertainty.

"I feel as though I've ruined everything," Sophia whispered.

Turning, Erik stole another glance at Sophia as she sat with her hands folded in her lap. He shook his head, his mouth agape. "You've done nothing wrong," he said under his breath.

"I know. But I feel…I feel wrong."

Erik nodded. He couldn't tell her that he understood because in truth he didn't. He'd never been abused the way Sophia had suffered.

Everything he wished to say felt scripted and formal, not reflecting how he truly felt inside. He gazed at Sophia and felt his stomach churn, reminded of the first time they had met. As much as he had wanted to convince himself otherwise, Erik had truly enjoyed being near Sophia. She was impossible to unravel; gregarious one moment, coy the next. Their first encounter had revealed a haughty young woman, the next a reserved, innocent girl. As much as he'd always craved control, he found the uncertainty in knowing her to be dangerously enticing, a frightful exhibition in an unfamiliar place.

"May I ask what's in the folder?" Sophia questioned. She paused, pressed her lips together, and gazed at him again.

Her expression had changed, the fear in her eyes softening into something familiar, an expression Erik feared he would never see again. "I ask far too many questions," Sophia whispered.

Erik nodded and lifted the folder, keeping his eyes trained on Sophia. "I have prepared answers to your questions," he said, a weak smile playing at the corner of his lips.

"Honestly?" Sophia questioned. Beneath the scattered bruises on her face she reddened with embarrassment.

Erik cleared his throat. "It was a jest," he said under his breath. "I had no intention of upsetting you."

Sophia nodded at last. "The folder isn't thick enough to be answers to my questions." She paused and brushed the back of her hand over her lips. "That was a jest as well."

They briefly stared at one another, tentative smiles replacing dialog. Erik reached for the folder and held it out to Sophia. His hands were trembling still, his palms sweating, but gentle, trustworthy. He hoped she understood the expression in his eyes, a reminder of the promise he made to be patient.

Sophia reached out for the folder, her bruised hand trembling as well.

"My reply to your note," Erik whispered.

-o-

Citrine pressed her index finger to her lips and widened her eyes at Gabe to keep him silent.

"You're terrible," Gabe said under his breath.

"This is necessary," Citrine muttered, daring to peek around the corner at Sophia and Monsieur Belmont.

There they stood before one another, their hands extended. She'd never known two people so obviously in love with each other, so tender and caring, yet afraid to step closer, to feel the heat they both wanted.

It was for the best, she thought, that they were tentative. It would be quite some time before Sophia would allow a man to touch her, to embrace her the way she deserved. Perhaps her nightmares would not return. It was all Citrine could hope, though she knew better. Some fears were carried for a lifetime, tiny seeds buried in one's mind that preferred to grow in the darkness rather than the light.

Gabe placed his hand on Citrine's shoulder. "I will stay and protect her," he whispered.

Citrine smiled to herself before she turned and brushed a soft kiss past Gabe's lips. "He will protect her. Come with me. I want to see if Turro is still alive and how Monsieur Dupree fares. Bring the dog, too."

Fidelio gave Citrine a quizzical look.

"You train horses, Gabe, with any luck, perhaps you could teach him some manners," Citrine said as she patted Fidelio's head.