Paladin102
Erik entered the dining room and found himself alone. Candlelight flickered across the table, the yellow flames glinting off white china and silverware. Everything was perfect for an evening spent with Sophia except he knew there was something wrong.
Her aunt would be sitting between them, steering the conversation to topics she found suitable for them. His hands balled into fists and he attempted to relax his mind and satisfy himself with Sophia's company. Whatever he had intended for the night most certainly would be as appropriate to say to her in private as it would before a member of her family.
"Madame, are you almost ready?" Citrine called out as she marched down the hall with Fidelio following close behind.
Erik saw a glimpse of her as she pulled on her gloves. A ribbon from her bonnet trailed behind and then she was gone, only the echo of her shoes against the floors indicating where she was in the house.
"Oh, I haven't a thing to wear for this," Madame Giry answered.
Erik's eyes narrowed and he wondered why Citrine hadn't mentioned Madame Giry would be leaving for the evening. Perhaps it shouldn't have made him smile, but he found his mood lightening, especially now that the candlelight could be put to good use.
"You needn't impress the horses. They are used to seeing Gabe and Monsieur Monteclaire," Citrine teased.
"I'm not sure about this," Madame Giry replied.
"I have wine chilled and a basket of cheeses and sausage already in the carriage. I'd hate to indulge all alone, Madame."
"I've had a headache all afternoon…"
"Ah, and now you need fresh air and a bit of relaxation. Come, now. I'm beginning to think you do not care for me, Madame."
Citrine marched back toward the kitchen and paused in the dining room doorway. She smoothed her skirt and grinned triumphantly. "Gabe said he wishes to teach Fidelio how to drive the carriage."
He opened his mouth but had no idea what to say to her. "Fine," he mumbled, shaking his head.
She lifted onto the balls of her feet and chuckled. "Good night, Monsieur."
In the blink of an eye she was gone and the last Erik heard was Madame Giry complaining about the cold.
He stood in the dining room while he waited for Sophia. The wall mirror was crooked, which he straightened, and discovered a creaky board on the floor beneath the rug that threatened to drive him mad.
There was no need to be nervous, he said to himself. It was natural for two people to enjoy one another's company. They would finally have the opportunity to know one another intimately. But not too intimately. He cracked his knuckles, finding no relief from his anxiety.
"You will ruin your fingers."
He turned on his heel and found Sophia in the doorway. Her earrings swayed as she tilted her head to the side and smiled. Her hair was piled on top of her head, exposing her slender, long neck.
"You look…"
She visibly swallowed, her hands balled in the silk of her light blue skirt. "Yes?" she whispered.
"Very pretty," he said, carefully pronouncing his words for fear of stumbling over his tongue.
"This is the first time I've worn this dress," she said. She played with a simple gold chain and a small locket that lingered just above her cleavage. The neckline plunged in what he assumed was a style far too modern for her aunt to find acceptable. To him it was perfect.
He helped her into her chair and lingered a moment with his hand on her shoulder. She looked up at him, her blush evident even in the dimly lit room.
"You flatter me," she said softly. "With the way you look at me."
"It is difficult to look away from you."
She touched his hand, her smile beaming. "You must sit before your food grows cold. It'll make you sick."
"Why is that?"
"I haven't any idea, but my mother always told me so and I believed her."
He stepped back, his gaze on her as he took his seat. The room was quiet, save for the clock ticking in the hall. Now that he had her all to himself he had no idea what to say to her.
-o-
Sophia felt warm both inside and out each time Erik gazed at her. It was as though he'd noticed her for the first time as a woman, and it made her even more aware of her low neckline and the piece of jewelry drawing attention to her assets, as Citrine had put it.
"I love this room," she mused. "I always have, since the day I first arrived. It just feels like it should be filled with laughter. What about you? Which room do you prefer?"
"The parlor."
The piano room. Her toes curled in her shoes as she thought of all the moments they had spent in there…upon the piano bench. Unladylike thoughts momentarily removed her from the dining room as she imagined a comfortable evening spent practicing music or listening to Erik play…or merely watching him.
"It's warmer in there, I think," he added.
"Are you cold?"
"No." He rose from his chair. "Are you cold?"
"No, I'm fine. It's just that you mentioned it was warmer in the other room."
He nodded as he sat down again. "Merely an observation."
"Ah. A good one." She buttered a dinner roll and nervously picked off warm chunks while he cut through his meat then stabbed his green beans with his fork. His expression was unreadable and she wondered if he was as nervous as she was. Most of the time he was simply quiet, his emotions deeply buried beneath more than a mask.
She looked around the room while they ate in silence and she wondered what it had been like when his mother was the head of the house, which suddenly gave her a new topic to keep the conversation rolling. The last thing she wanted was for silence to overtake the evening and have it end on an awkward note, especially after all the trouble Citrine had gone through for them. She imagined the household cook would never let her forget it.
"Well, it's been a very exciting day, hasn't it?" She lifted her wine glass from the table and smiled. Their glasses clinked together and she giggled.
"What is funny?" His glass lowered slightly, his warm expression fading.
"I've never given a toast before."
The smile returned, albeit sheepishly. "What do you wish to toast?"
Sophia licked her lips, her hand trembling as she squeezed the stemware. "To new relationships."
She sat perched on the edge of her chair and waited for him to acknowledge her words. His first reaction was to swallow hard, followed by a tentative nod, which told her nothing of what he was feeling. By now she should have been accustomed to his enigmatic ways but he continued to leave her breathless and waiting. Finally, he placed his wine glass on the table and reached for her hand.
"Oh, my," she whispered. It was quite possible the words never left her mouth. Nothing was certain now that their hands were joined, his warm flesh covering hers. Long, thick fingers caressed the back of her hand from her wrist to her fingertips. Her heart beat faster, her breath caught in her throat.
"Sophia," he murmured. His fingers closed over hers and she squeezed back, wanting to hold him closer. "To new relationships."
"Long relationships," she added as she rose from her seat.
"Long relationships," he echoed as his chair scraped the floor.
He stood before she did and wrapped his arms around her, drawing her so close she could barely breathe. Slowly she wriggled her arms from her sides and rubbed his chest. He blinked at her, his lips parted, waiting, waiting… She wanted to muster her wits and kiss him but she couldn't move, couldn't break the trance of his embrace. It felt perfect to be in his arms, to share his warmth, to experience the tickle of his hot breaths on her face.
"Sophia," he whispered.
"Yes?"
His grip on her loosened, his once smiling lips now a frown. He turned away and brought his hand to his face. Before she could protest, he slipped the mask from his face and turned to look at her again.
"To new relationships," he said, raw pain evident in his eyes.
She could no longer resist. Without a word, she wrapped her arms around his neck and made him lean forward. His lips parted in surprise before she kissed him, full on the mouth.
Warm, broad hands slid down her back and gripped her waist. He smashed her body to his and returned her kiss with such force that she groaned, partially in pleasure and partially in surprise.
"To new relationships," she sighed. She kissed him softly, and felt his tongue flick against her lips. Lightning bolts shot through her insides and she wondered how life could possibly be better than this moment. "And old ones too."