This one's for Rave!

Paladin100

"Are you sure it isn't any trouble?" Antole Turro asked.

"None at all," Philippe replied. "The girls have run themselves ragged in your absence. It would be a pleasure to stay and help you and Madame Turro."

From the corner of his eye he saw Sabine stand a little straighter as she wrapped her arms around her younger sister, who had started to clap when he'd agreed to stay at the house. At least someone was thrilled with the prospect, he thought wryly.

"Well, then," Monsieur Turro replied. "Have Sabine put you to work immediately." He looked around even though his cataracts prevented him from seeing the room clearly. "Where is that other handsome man who threatened to steal my wife away?" He chuckled to himself.

"We're right here, darling," Madame Turro. She moved onto the couch beside her husband and patted his hand. "It's been a long day. Why don't you have Sabine or Laure escort you upstairs and bring you a cup of tea?"

He sighed and pouted, which reminded Philippe of a senile old uncle his mother had once forced him and Sophia to visit when they were children. The man was in his eighties but had acted like a child.

"I suppose you're correct, dearie," Monsieur Turro glowered. "I've made myself giddy and I do need my eye drops."

Madame Turro kissed his cheek. "You rest and I will see our guests to the door."

"Are you certain?"

"Positive."

Laure immediately stepped forward and took Monsieur Turro by the arm. She flashed Philippe a smile and patted her employer's arm. "Come with me, Monsieur. I'm certain Sabine will show Monsieur Philippe what needs to be done."

Once they were gone, Philippe stepped forward and took Sophia's hand. "You will stay with Citrine tonight, won't you?"

"Yes, if she wouldn't mind the company."

"Swear to me?"

"Philippe," she warned. "I'm fine. We will eat supper together and then stay up all night telling each other ghost stories."

"You shouldn't stay awake all night."

Sophia shook her head and grinned. "Will you promise me something?"

He tilted his head to the side. "Tell me."

"While you're here, search for your sense of humor, big brother."

"Find something genuinely amusing to say and I'll consider it," he answered.

She slapped his arm. "You'll return in the morning?"

"Most likely before you're awake."

"Don't rush home on my account. I'll be fine. Honestly. Besides, if you worry too much…" She looked over his shoulder and smiled. "You'll drive poor Sabine absolutely mad."

He took a deep breath and squared his shoulders. "I don't want to hear from Auntie Anne when I return, Sophia. Behave yourself," he said.

"You, too."

He ignored her words and faced Monsieur Belmont. "I trust you will see to it that Citrine and Sophia are on their best behavior," he said sternly.

"Of course."

"Very well." He turned toward Sabine and attempted to smile. "What shall I do first?"

"Follow me," she said under her breath.

She walked briskly from the room and down the hall as he lagged behind. He was forced to jog to catch up to her once she turned the corner. When he finally found her, she had covered her face with her hands.

"Sabine?"

"Why are you doing this?" she whispered sharply.

"I beg your pardon?"

"Staying here. Why are you staying here?"

"To help—"

"Philippe, don't lie to me."

He shifted his weight. "Monsieur and Madame Turro need a man to help them, not a child and a woman—"

"With child?" she asked accusingly.

His nostrils flared. Those were the last words he wanted to hear her speak.

"That is of no concern to me," he answered quietly.

"It is to me." She gave one last cold stare before she turned away.

Gritting his teeth, Philippe grabbed her by the arm and forced her to meet his eye. "I could help you."

"Why would you want to do that?" she questioned, her voice tight.

"Because."

"Because you wish to ruin your reputation? To be known as a man who pities—"

"I don't pity you. Please, don't turn from me again."

"You should return home, Philippe. I don't want you to do this."

"Why?" She didn't answer and he gripped her arm tighter. "Tell me why."

"This shouldn't be your problem," she whispered softly.

"You want this to be yours alone?"

"Yes," she snapped. She frowned at him. "No. I don't know what I want."

"Then let me help you."

"I don't need charity."

"Fine." He was losing her, and although he knew he was badgering her, he refused to back down. "Then at least allow me to see you. As a friend, Sabine. Merely as a friend who cares for you."

Her shoulders dropped in defeat, but she gave a sigh of relief. For a moment he thought she would question him in return, but she didn't. She offered a half-hearted smile instead. "Thank you, Philippe."

-o-

Sophia looked out the window as the carriage passed through the iron gates. "It went well."

"Excuse me?"

She turned to Erik. "The visit."

"Yes."

"Yes," she confirmed. "I'm glad."

He smoothed his pant legs and looked away. "I have asked her to visit the Manor."

His tone was so casual and steady that Sophia was speechless, a first for her. Her lips parted, eyes narrowed. "Truly?"

"Truly." He looked at her and smiled at last. "I learned much. In the hallway."

"The two of you were gone for so long that Monsieur Turro thought you had run away with her. He's a very nice man, don't you think? A little eccentric, perhaps, but a good man. I bet fifty years ago all the women in the county were batting their eyelashes at him."

"He's interesting," Erik mumbled, which gave Sophia the impression that he didn't much care to discuss his mother's husband.

"Did you find what you were looking for?" she asked.

He stared at his hands, his expression sobering. "No, I didn't. At least not exactly what I expected to find."

"Oh."

"I expected…"

She clasped her hands and waited for him to speak, deciding it was best not to pry. He swallowed and took a breath, obviously struggling with his emotions. She'd expected as much, knowing how difficult it had been for him to travel to the estate and then confront the mother he hadn't seen since he was a small child.

"Rejection," he mumbled.

The pain on his face was too much to bear and she leaned forward, placing her hand over his. With a warm smile, she looked into his eyes. "Then I'm glad you didn't find what you expected."

He squeezed her hand. "I thought she had abandoned me."

"Why would you think that?" she asked, keeping her tone light.

He didn't answer, and Sophia refused to allow the silence to grow.

"Erik?"

He linked his fingers together and exhaled. As Gabe drove them home, he told her of the traveling faire, the gypsies, and his abduction. His honesty—and the brutality he spoke so frankly of—sent a chill down her spine. By the time they reached the Manor, it was Sophia who sat in silence. She could barely comprehend how he'd survived.

The carriage slowed as it approached the wooden gate. Erik adjusted his gloves and placed his broad hands on his thighs, which momentarily distracted Sophia from her melancholy thoughts.

"I'm glad you found her again," she blurted out. "After all these years, it's truly amazing."

"It is." He nodded, his fingers splayed across the dark wool of his trousers.

He drummed his fingertips against his long legs while he stared out the window and waited for Gabe to bring the horses to a stop. The sight of his long—albeit hidden—fingers sent her thoughts wandering and she cleared her throat, hoping it was dark enough in the cab to hide her blush. All she could think of was that Philippe would be bothering someone else for the night and how she hoped Erik would remove his gloves the moment he entered his home.

"Shall we?" he questioned suddenly. He stood and opened the cab door. Once he was standing outside the carriage, he turned and offered his gloved hand.

"May I ask you a question?"

He nodded, his hand cupping hers. Her heart beat so fast she thought she would pass out.

"May I practice the piano tonight?"

He inhaled. "If you wish."

Somehow, his words didn't mirror the excitement she felt building inside.

"Thank you," she said, disappointed with his response.

"We won't be able to practice late," he said.

-o-

Erik had seen Madam Giry peering out the window the moment the carriage came to a stop. With a frown he watched her swiftly close the curtains and disappear. Until that moment he had forgotten she was within his home.

Apparently, Sophia had noticed her aunt as well. "Oh," she said once she followed his gaze to Madame Giry's bedroom. "I suppose not."

Thoughts stirred within him from the moment Sophia inquired about her lessons. His very male brain had immediately considered the possibilities of a house without the plague of an older brother looming in the distance. Citrine would keep to herself, he knew. Fidelio would lie on the floor, out of trouble. But Aunt Anne? He hadn't considered her presence. If anything, she would request a seat between them.

Sophia squeezed his hand. "What else do you know how to play?"

"Excuse me?"

"What other instruments can you play?"

"Anything you place before me."

A devilish smile played at the corners of her mouth. "Ah, I had forgotten your genius."

He sensed her playful sarcasm and looked away to hide his grin. "Never do so again," he replied gruffly.

"I would apologize, but you forbid me to do so." Her shoulder brushed against his and he couldn't help but glance at her. She released a laugh, which ended in a snort and made her laugh louder. "Stop it!"

"Excuse me?"

"You're making me laugh."

"I haven't said a word."

"Then don't look at me. You're instigating."

"How do you figure?"

"I know what you're doing. You're attempting to make me laugh again." She wiped at her eyes, then fanned her face while she caught her breath.

"I'm doing no such thing."

She looked up at him, her lips parted. Another coy laugh escaped before she turned away. "You don't even realize it," she said softly.

"Realize what?" he asked.

She glanced over her shoulder. There were no words needed. Somehow, he understood—and knew she had the same effect on him.