Authors Note: Thanks to everyone for still reading and reviewing even though it's taking me longer to post updates. The engagement will take place in the next chapter, I swear on the lives of the NDBRs, loyal broads in their stilettos. Sorry, Pertie, no sex yet! I know if you hold your breath any longer someone will have to resuscitate you, and I love ya too much for that to happen. Thank you for still reading, Pertie-baby! LOL I know Rave just wants the plot and no sex.

I also have a brand new newsletter at yahoo groups for contest information and special story previews, but unfortunately that's only open to people over the age of eighteen. You can get to that on my website by going to subscribe. Everyone who signs up this month doubles their chances of winning a book and a gift card in June when I run my next contest. And guess what? The contest is for a free gas card! Woo hoo!

Gabrina

Paladin128

"Oh, Erik," Angelina said under her breath as she opened the parlor door. She cleared her throat, which took Philippe's attention off Erik. "Philippe, would you be a dear and draw back the curtains. It's such a beautiful afternoon and I hate for the two of you to be stuck in the dark here."

"Of course, Madame Turro," he answered.

She stepped aside for him to enter the parlor and gave Erik a pointed glare of disapproval. Without a word she shook her head, then nodded for him to enter the parlor.

"Remember what you want," she said as he passed.

When he turned to look at her, she'd already started down the hall.

Philippe finished tying back the curtain and looked around like an animal that had reluctantly entered its cage and was now trapped.

"Why?" he asked, not looking directly at Erik. His jaw worked relentlessly to the point where Erik wondered if Philippe would still have teeth by the end of the night. "What did she do? I'll fix it, whatever it is."

"She didn't do anything, she—"

"Where is she?"

"In her home."

"She will stay with me," Philippe said. He reached into the liquor cabinet for a bottle of brandy but apparently thought better of it and drew his hand back. "I'll keep her out of trouble."

"Actually..." Erik motioned toward Philippe, who had turned to look at him. The two men stared at one another for a long moment before Erik forced himself to continue. "I'd rather she stay with me."

His heart pounded so loudly that he barely heard Philippe's protest. "Have you lost your mind?"

"Monsieur Dupree," he said, spreading his hands. "I have something I'd like to ask you."

Philippe paused, his nostrils flared and mouth opened in another protest. "Then ask it."

This wasn't how Erik wanted to ask for Sophia's hand. This first step needed to be perfectly orchestrated in order for his proposal to take place as he wished. He took a breath and gestured toward the armchairs.

"It would be better if we sat," he said, attempting to be as diplomatic as possible.

Philippe looked from the chairs to Erik and shook his head. "I prefer standing."

"Well, I don't," Erik snapped.

"Then sit."

A light tap on the door interrupted both of them as Angelina returned. "Who would like cookies?"

Erik fumed inside but offered her a pleasant smile. Following his lead, Philippe helped her with the tray she carried and asked if Sabine was feeling well.

"Oh, yes, dear. I have her heating the water for your tea and decided that I shouldn't leave two men without a bite to eat." She smiled brightly and brushed past Erik, her hand on his forearm. "Try one. Sabine said she and Laure made them this morning."

"I've already had one," Philippe said.

"Oh, with how thin you are you certainly need another one." Angelina shone with unmatched charm and handed him a cookie, leaving him no choice but to accept. "That's a good boy, my dear. Now, why don't you have a seat? You're not in a hurry to return home, are you?"

"No, Madame."

She patted the back of the chair. "Right here. Why, you can see the birds outside when you sit here." She looked at Erik and smiled, obviously pleased with herself for her contribution.

Grandchildren, Erik thought. She was assisting him for the sake of grandchildren.

"You're too kind, Madame Turro." He took a seat as she requested and stared at the stack of cookies she placed on a plate and shoved into his grasp.

Angelina gave Erik his plate, equally piled high with cookies, and laughed to herself. She fanned her face as though she were embarrassed by Philippe's flattery. "You're such a dear, Monsieur Dupree, such an absolute dear," she said before she left the room and closed the doors.

Erik waited, finding his opportunity to speak first once Philippe took a bite out of his cookie.

"As I was about to say," he said quickly, watching Philippe chew as fast as possible. "I wanted to discuss my future with you, namely where it concerns Sophia."

Philippe stopped chewing and merely stared, his napkin balled in his fist. "Go on," he said through the crumbs in his mouth. He swallowed, appearing more nervous than Erik felt.

"I released her from her duties today."

Philippe nodded and fumbled for the tea Angelina had left behind. He poured himself a cup, not once looking away from Erik, and gulped down a mouthful. "Yes, yes, continue."

Erik was almost certain his heart would beat a hole through his chest. "I released her because I had every intention of asking you for permission—"

"My god," Philippe said under his breath. He stood at once, his plate and tea cup abandoned.

Erik took a step back, uncertain of Philippe's reaction. If he hesitated a moment longer he'd lose complete control of the situation—and now was not the time to lose the upper hand.

"Monsieur Dupree," he started.

"You're asking for her hand and you're doing it properly." Philippe smiled, a look of surprise on his face. "You are asking to marry her, aren't you?"

"I was," he answered warily.

Philippe ran his hand over his hair. "I apologize," he mumbled. "I should have allowed you to speak and just sat and listened. It's just that…being in this house, sleeping across from his bedroom. It maddens me." He kept his voice low, his eyes intense with loathing. "When you arrived here I assumed there was an incident or problem of some sort—and then you mentioned my sister and…" He exhaled hard and shook his head. "It's no secret that I assume the worse."

"Yes," Erik said, having no idea what else to say. As far as he was concerned he hadn't asked to marry Sophia and most certainly hadn't received an answer from Philippe.

"Does she know why you're here?"

Erik shook his head. "I don't want her to know unless…until I have your reply. That is, until I have asked you and you have agreed."

Philippe chuckled to himself and nodded. "Then I suppose you should ask me."

Erik squared his shoulders and looked Philippe in the eye. "Monsieur Dupree, I'm very much in love with your sister and know she has feelings for me as well. It would be an honor if you would allow me to take her as my wife."

"You'll treat her well?" Philippe asked.

He nodded. "As no one else would ever treat her. My home is hers already, but I want it to belong to her." He took a small step forward. "And I want you as my business partner now, before we are family."

"Would your offer still stand if I denied your request?"

Erik hesitated. "I don't know."

"Is there any reason for me to deny you her hand?"

Erik looked away briefly. "I can assure you that what I've done in the past will never happen in the future. I love Sophia more than anything in the world and I will do whatever it takes to make certain that she's happy. If or when her eyesight fails I will think no less of her or abandon her. For as long as she'll have me in her life I will do right by her. You have my word."

"What is your word worth to me, Monsieur?" Philippe questioned.

"It's everything I have," he replied.

Philippe looked him over, his expression unreadable. For an agonizing moment Erik held his breath and waited for Philippe to give some indication of his intentions.

"Monsieur Belmont," Philippe said at last. He offered his hand, which Erik accepted. "Nothing would please me more than to see my sister happy as your wife. I accept as long as she does."

"Thank you," Erik said, breathing a sigh of relief.

"You have no need to thank me. After what you did for her, I could only hope that you'd marry her. She needs someone…" Philippe unexpectedly tapped Erik's forearm, his demeanor unguarded and friendly at last. "She needs you."

Erik bowed his head, affected more deeply by Philippe's words than he'd ever imagined he'd be before a man he considered his servant. With Sophia as his wife, he wouldn't consider Philippe a butler. They'd be family, the pieces to a puzzle he'd never realized he'd been searching for.

"You have my word that she'll be happy," he said to assure Philippe.

"I know as much…from what happened."

"I don't want to think of what could have happened."

Philippe agreed, patted Erik once more on the arm, and muttered under his breath that he needed to find Sabine. He absently mentioned something about Sabine not feeling well before he gave his congratulations and blessing and left the room, a slight but still noticeably smile on his face.

Erik gave a sigh of relief. He finally had what he wanted. Almost. Now all he had to do was propose and hope that his plans remained a secret.