I must apologize to everyone for the lateness of this chapter. I misjudged the time I had to post it earlier this week before I went out of town. Likewise, I was also under the impression I would be able to use my cousin's computer to post the chapter. Unfortunately, for some reason their computer wouldn't let me post anything. Grr! So sorry again for the lateness. Oh and also sorry for the cliffhanger at the end of the chapter…tehe.

But anyway a big thank you to my beta Juliana. Her input really is appreciated. And once again thank you to all my reviewers! I love you guys!

Chapter 31: A Heart Twice Broken

Erik sat brooding in silence slumped low in a chair within the library. Staring hotly at Brielle's desk, his thoughts were darkly temperamental. That is what started this whole mess in the first place, that blasted letter, he thought angrily as he trailed a finger along the outer edge of his mask. And that was several days ago.

The surface of the desk was now tellingly clear of everything but a lonely steel-nibbed pen. Brielle had carefully stored away all forms of her personal correspondence the morning after Erik had nearly choked the life out of Andrew. She doesn't want to run the risk of inciting my temper again.

At the time he had been so sure Andrew was behind the mystery letter; however, since that day a multitude of strange occurrences had continued to happen all over the house, whether the young lord was present or not. Little odds and ends went missing only to turn up in inopportune places, every instance usually punctuated by a boisterous argument between Brielle and himself.

One morning Brielle had asked him where her silver hairbrush was and became shockingly hysterical when he could only shrug his ignorance. Her father had given her the item, she had explained as she tore the house apart looking for the thing. When she found the blasted brush sitting casually on his dresser behind a pile of books, Erik could only stare in disbelief. He knew he hadn't taken the brush, but how to explain that fact to her without seeming either insane or a liar was beyond his skills.

Merely nodding her head at his muddled explanation, Brielle had clutched the precious object protectively to her chest. "I suppose you simply forgot you borrowed it," she had murmured, desperately trying to rationalize away the damning evidence against him, but once again suspicion darkened her features.

The doubt he saw weaving its way behind her eyes and into her very posture both enraged and hurt him deeply. Hadn't she often said he was her precious best friend? Shouldn't she trust him over the word of some pompous and conniving aristocratic bastard? Even though she was making a tenacious attempt at excusing the mysterious happenings in his favor, he would have to be a fool not to see that with each successive instance she was running out of logical explanations. He could feel their bonds of affection running like grains of sand between his fingers.

She was lying to you. An annoyingly familiar voice once again rose up in his mind, flickering through the endless black corridors of his memories and illuminating everything in his past which he had tried so hard over the last few months to forget. Betrayal, heartache, and dashed dreams continually rattled about his brain, making him paranoid and touchy, despite the fact that he knew every single odd situation was carefully contrived.

That was the worst part - he knew Andrew was somehow behind every disappearance and yet he could not catch the man or any of his servants in the act. The young lord was one of the canniest individuals Erik had run across in years. Andrew played perfectly the concerned brother-in-law even as he carefully shrouded the house in a veil of confusion. Never once did the man slip in that part, never once did the darkness of his coal black eyes reveal the plans which were no doubt within his head. Erik was nearly pulling his hair out in frustration when every one of his theories as to how Andrew was doing it turned out to be unfounded.

My mind has touched the farthest regions of man's imagination, constantly reaching ever outward to embrace the unknown. There has never been any knowledge beyond my comprehension, no craft or art that lies beyond the mastery of my hand and yet I cannot discern how this man is steadily ruining my place in this household! Growling as he fisted a hand over the armrest of his chair Erik stared off into space, going over and over every example of strangeness which had occurred over the last several days. Once again his mind was a blank, his concentration disrupted by the whispering doubts poisoning his own trust. She was lying…just like Christine…

Not being a man to take a sucker punch in the mouth without fighting back, Erik had slipped a rather potent laxative of his own creation into Andrew's food or drink twice in the past several days. The drug had made the young lord terribly ill for hours on end, shortening the man's visits until he no longer stayed for meals. Andrew was no fool; he no doubt had discovered Erik's trickery, which was why just that morning a vital change occurred in the maddening vanishings within the house. For two days Brielle had been the unknowing victim in the schemes about the house, but that had come to a rather abrupt end. This morning it had been Erik's turn to awake only to discover with sickening dread that certain pieces of his property were missing. Thinking on it now sent shivers through his body. He had no idea he was so capable of losing control so quickly.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX Earlier that morning XXXXXXXXXXXXX

Erik opened his eyes slowly, blinking groggily against the warm yellow sunlight filtering through the curtains and into his room. For several long moments he lay on his side, watching that lovely light play out dancing patterns upon the carpet. In all the months of his residence in Brielle's house, he had still not gotten used to awaking with the sunlight on his face; it still shocked and delighted him every morning. Here the light was welcoming, safe even. It was an altogether different sun which illuminated him in this house than any other time in his life. Due to this distraction, it took him quite a long time to realize something was terribly wrong. God I feel odd.

The fact that he was laying on his right side was a given; however, after several moments it suddenly struck him that he felt the pillowcase against his cheek. Raising a hand to the right side of his face, Erik bolted upright in bed when his fingers brushed flesh rather than the smoothness of his mask. He didn't remember taking the mask off the night before or where he could have possibly put it.

The paralyzing panic which initially numbed his brain was instinctive, beaten into him in his early childhood by the merciless hand of his mother, teaching him to fear his own face, and fear life without covering it. Erik frantically threw blankets, pillows, and sheets onto the floor as he tore through the bed, searching for his mask as if he might happen upon it somewhere in the folds of linen. By the time he began to flip over the mattress, his senses refocused under the sickening haze of terror. Think, think…it has to be somewhere in the room. I simply took it off and forgot where I put it.

Collecting his wits with difficulty Erik carefully looked about the room, keeping the dangerous animalistic panic within him from clouding his judgment with just a hair's breadth of control. As the minutes ticked by and the room's hiding places were exhaustively searched, he slowly came to realize the terrible truth. The mask was not in his room. With mounting horror, his eyes turned disbelieving to the door. He would have to venture out into the house without the safety of his mask, without the defenses that it provided. Something he had not endured since his childhood.

As he sat dumbly gazing at the door something in his brain clicked out of place, allowing all the stress of the last several days to overcome his good sense. The sneaking voice, which had led him unerringly through the hardest years of his life, rose up once again within him poisoning his thoughts and setting his heart to banging almost painfully within his chest. All his suspicion toward Andrew vanished within the echoes of that terrible cold whispering. The caustic venom of his mind settled instead upon the one figure in the house who, being female, represented nearly every betrayal and hurt of his life - Brielle. She took it…she must have taken it. No one else was in the house yesterday.

His panic quickly morphed into anger, bundling Erik safely within its warmth, insulating him against the cruelties of the world, against the frivolities of its feminine occupants. And as the grip of a violent temper closed in about his brain he burst out of his bedroom, one hand to his face, the other sweeping wildly over end tables, knocking numerous knickknacks onto the floor for no other reason than to hear the crash. The need to break something coursed through his body as he prowled down the hall, tightening his jaw and sending tremors through his muscles.

Just as the violence within him reached intoxicating levels Brielle came rushing around the corner, her face pale with worry. As her gaze swept over him Erik clamped his other hand over his face as well, feeling exposed under her nervous scrutiny, his skin practically burning wherever her eyes touched him. For a split second he pictured her eyes joining the crush of a crowd closing in around him, staring in stark terror, staring at the devilish horror of his face. Erik's heart welled up against this misty vision, rebelling against the memories clouding his thoughts.

She spoke to him then, asking what was wrong, but in the state he had worked himself into he could not hear her words. Terrible accusations and insults flung out at Brielle, the words within his mind spewing out of his mouth in a torrent of verbal poison. Then rushing past the startled woman, Erik crashed down the hallway, howling continuously the vicious allegations spinning within his head. As he swept through each room of the house like a hurricane, her pattering footsteps followed on his heels. Her closeness and his desperation drew in around him, bringing the walls in too near, squeezing the very breath from his lungs. Entrapped by his own hysteria, Erik stumbled over an overturned chair and fell to his knees, his hands still clutching frantically at his face.

Unbidden visions of cold steel bars and the glitter of horrified eyes in the darkness of a ratty tent swam before his tightly shut eyes. Suddenly he no longer knelt upon Brielle's library floor but sat upon a matted pile of soiled straw. Erik practically felt the bite of the prickly stuff through the cloth of his pants, felt the shocked gasps and screams sweep over his bare face and resonate deep within his gut.

Distantly he heard a terrible wailing cutting through the air, blistering his eardrums with the heart rending pitch of the scream. Only when he sucked in a deep breath did he realize the sound was coming from his own vocal cords. Crouching low, Erik tucked his head up against his knees, his arms flung up over the back of his neck. He hid from the light then, hating it as much as he had reveled in it earlier that day.

Suddenly, just as he was sure he would go mad, a warm comforting darkness enveloped him, soothing the beast prowling about his memories. Within the blessed blackness the old tent, the cage in it and the little boy he had spent a lifetime trying to forget retreated back under the surface of his consciousness. A breathless, disorientating moment passed as he opened his eyes, blinking away the last of the ghosts haunting his mind. Calmed by the embrace of the darkness Erik's heart slowed its erratic pace, his breathing coming in less painful gasps.

As he came slowly back to the present, the sensation of a small hand rubbing the small of his back sent ripples of shock flickering up his spine. A lilting accented voice spoke softly in his ear, drowning out the insidious whispers of his own distrust. Confused, Erik raised his head slightly then, only to discover his entire body was covered with what appeared to be a set of green velveteen curtains. It was their protective shield which created the wonderful darkness shrouding him.

Ten or fifteen minutes must have passed as he pieced together the shattered shards of his awareness, the small hands smoothing over his back remaining shakily with him in the silence following his outburst. Reason had only just returned to him when he coldly ordered those tender hands, and their obvious owner, to leave him alone. Requesting, in that same chilly formality, for Brielle to please close the door on her way out of the room.

After a slight pause she left without a murmur of protest, her silent acquiescence strangely troubling, only to return moments later to drop something at his side. Erik raised the curtain up just enough to stare dumbly at his mask teetering inches in front of his face.

"I found this outside my door this morning," Brielle stated quietly before she turned and vacated the room in all hast. As he reached out to grasp the mask in one hand the doubt within his own heart throbbed to life once again.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Sitting comfortably now brewing over the morning's happenings, Erik could hardly believe his own actions. He closed his eyes in shame, thinking of the insults he was sure he had screamed in Brielle's face even as she was trying to calm him. Embarrassment warred with horror over the whole incident, making him doubt his own sanity over and over again. Apparently the ghost causing all the havoc within the household had found one of Erik's weaknesses.

A battle of wills was waging right under his nose, and Erik knew that he was losing.

Rubbing a finger against the hollow of his temple Erik took a deep breath. He had not dared to venture from the library all that day, choosing instead to stay safely holed up among the room's stacks of leather bound books. How can I face her after the terrible things I said? There truly is no excuse for my actions. I panicked and punished her for all of the abuse of my childhood. She wouldn't have taken my blasted mask. In all my life she is the one person who hasn't even so much as asked about it. I am a moron.

The sharp click of the door handle turning brought Erik's brooding gaze to the door with a moment of anxious anticipation. He was sure the confrontation which had been stewing all day long was about to boil over if Brielle had decided to check in on him. Much to his surprise it was not the lovely Madame Donovan on the threshold but rather Aria who stood wearily leaning against the door jamb, her little mouth sucking furiously on her pruned thumb.

"What are you doing up?" he inquired gently, a touch of emotional exhaustion roughening his voice.

Pulling her moist digit from her lips, Aria shrugged. "I am f-feeling better this m-m-morning," she stated simply, her large gray eyes moving over his form somberly.

"Your mother told me yesterday the fever had broken, but you still need your rest," he chided tiredly as concern creased his brow. "Is there something you need? Would you like me to call for your mother?"

With a shake of her little head Aria twirled a bit of her hair about one chubby finger. "N-No. I w-w-was looking for you. Why are you h-hiding in h-here?"

Not truly wanting to get into that discussion with a four year old, Erik hastily snatched up a book from the table to his left. "I was simply enjoying a good book," he lied. Aria stilled at his words and fixed him with a look so serious he had the sudden ridiculous urge to laugh. She looks frighteningly like Brielle with that softly disapproving expression on her face.

Sticking her thumb firmly back into her mouth, Aria dislodged herself from the door frame and pattered loudly across the room until she stood just shy of a foot from his right knee. "L-Liar," she mumbled around her thumb as she watched him from under her dark lashes. "You are h-hiding from M-M-Momma."

Leaning his head back against the headrest in defeat, Erik gazed imploringly up at the ceiling. Good luck to any man trying to lie to the females of this house. "Yes, I suppose I am. Though I do not think she minds my absence - I have been in a rotten mood all day."

Nodding sagely at this, Aria took one step forward and climbed upon his lap without a shred of hesitation. Automatically, Erik wrapped his arm about her waist to steady her small body as she settled comfortably against his chest, her dark head resting tiredly against his shoulder. "W-Why did you y-yell at M-Momma this morning?" Aria murmured as her small hand came up to grip a loose section of his shirt. "I d-don't like it w-when you f-fight."

"Truly I do not know why I shouted at her," he began honestly, one hand rising to brush absently over Aria's tiny head. "I was upset because something of mine was missing and at the time I thought she might have taken it."

"Are you s-still mad that your m-mask was m-missing?" she asked quietly, glancing up at him with those odd slate gray eyes she raised a hand to touch the bottom edge of his mask with one finger. "D-Doesn't it itch t-terrible?"

Momentarily stunned, Erik could stare down at the child in his arms. "How did you know it was my mask which was missing?" Automatic suspicion flickered across his mind. What does she know?

A grin flashed across Aria's pale face. "I h-have fairy b-blood!" she whispered conspiratorially. "Remember I t-told you."

"Yes, I remember. I just forgot for a moment," he replied guiltily. Now I know I am a loon. Suspecting a child of stealing…Brightening suddenly as a moment of inspiration glimmered through the confusing fog surrounding his brain, Erik sat up straighter. "Could you perhaps help me with a problem I have been having then?" When Aria eagerly nodded, Erik smiled slightly. "Can you tell me who took it? Or how they took it?"

The child gave a semi bored nod at the question, as if the answer should be obvious. "It is easy t-to s-steal something w-when someone is s-sleeping. It is easy to m-make sure s-someone g-goes to sleep too if you w-want. Can w-we play the p-piano now?" she asked, changing the subject without preamble as only a child can.

Erik did not answer her immediately, her words occupying every inch of his thoughts. So the bastard drugged me did he? How did I not catch him at it? He was only over for about ten minutes yesterday and I was sure he remained in the parlor…Nearly bursting with fury he hardly felt it when Aria began tugging on his jacket, her insistent little hands patting the pocket where he kept the Saint Jude medal Brielle had given him.

"C-can we p-please play on the p-piano?" she asked again, adding a slight whimper to her tone.

Coming out of his musings, Erik looked down at Aria's expectant cherub's face and smiled. "Certainly, but do you remember your part of the duet I taught you?"

"Y-Yes," she squealed happily as she slid off his lap.

Standing slowly, Erik worked the kinks out of his spine. He was momentarily uneasy about leaving the relative safety of the library, but Aria's delighted grin swayed any reserves he still held. She has me wrapped right around her little finger, he thought with a smile, feeling better from her company despite the dismal cloud of anxiety he had been operating under for the last several days.

As he took Aria's little hand in his and walked slowly to the door, the optimism he had been afraid to listen to all the past week began to work its way back into his thoughts, quieting, for once, the negative influences of the survivalist whispering polluting his mind. I don't know what I have been worried about. Everything will work out as long as I turn the full reserves of my mental capacities to the problem. After all, Andrew is only an overconfident twit. He has absolutely no idea who he is dealing with. If he thinks stealing my mask will do any permanent damage he is vastly mistaken. He might have won the battle, but the war will be my victory.

Smiling, Erik walked hand in hand with Aria down the hallway toward the parlor where he could distantly make out two distinct voices.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Brielle stood to show Andrew out when the young lord looked at his watched and started at the time. He had kept his visits rather short over the last two days due to a nasty stomach virus, but he always made sure to check up on her and Aria at least once a day, if only for a few minutes. It was odd really - Andrew's behavior had become increasingly attentive, affectionate even, just as Brielle's relationship with Erik suffered extreme amounts of strain.

Erik's temperamental and violent outbursts were driving her absolutely mad with worry. This morning's rampage was just the latest in a series of increasingly violent tantrums. To think he actually thought I would take his blasted mask, she thought with a huff, using her irritation as a shield against the hurt his mistrust caused.

Until the beginning of the week , Brielle had been sure she was used to his odd moods and quick draw temper , but the last few days had proven just how unprepared she was to deal with the darkest portions of his disposition. Unsure of how to bring him out of his slump Brielle could only leave him to his own devices, but it was becoming ever more difficult to turn a blind eye toward the odd happenings of the household.

Still she trusted him, the stress of the week not yet able to dim the intensity of her affection, a fact that both worried and surprised her. I have lost my mind after all, because I know he would damn near have to strangle me to death before my feelings could be swayed.

Carefully keeping her face blank of the troubles plaguing her, Brielle watched Andrew pick up his hat from the seat next to him. She turned to walk him to the door, but his hand upon her shoulder stayed her advance. Turning her back to the parlor door she smiled at Andrew, waiting patiently for whatever it was he wished to say.

When he hesitated, Brielle hurriedly filled the silence, suddenly uneasy under the seriousness of Andrew's dark gaze. "I am glad you are feeling better. A stomach malady can be terribly uncomfortable."

"Hmm, yes indeed," he replied with an air of distraction, his eyes flickering momentarily over her shoulder to the doorway. "It warms my heart to hear that you were concerned for my welfare."

"Well of course, after all you…"

Taking a step toward her Andrew sucked in a deep breath, his eyes fixed firmly now upon her face. With slight misgivings, Brielle saw his gaze settle upon her lips with an all too familiar look of longing before quickly jerking back to her eyes. "Brielle, do you remember the first time we met?"

Blushing slightly at the memory, the Irish woman found herself looking down at her clasped hands. "Yes, I believe I upended your drink all over your lovely dress coat. You made me very nervous."

"I trust some of that nervousness has dissipated over the years. What has it been, ten years now? Hopefully my presence has come to elicit something more than nervousness by now," he murmured quietly, a gentle smile softening the normally unyielding darkness of his eyes.

Laughing lightly out of embarrassed unease, Brielle reached out and patted the young lord's arm. "You know perfectly well I consider you a part of the family," she chuckled, giving the him a swat.

Sighing dramatically, Andrew rolled his eyes. "That is what I was afraid of," he murmured. When Brielle cleared her throat uncomfortably, the young lord cracked a smile, his dark eyes actually crinkling at the edges with laughter. "I am simply teasing you, Brielle. I have only recently realized that I have been far too serious and self-involved these last few years." Sobering slightly, he glanced down at the hat in his hands. "I suppose John's death affected us all more than we thought. In the future I will try to be more lax in my manner. I like joking with you…more than I thought I would."

Remaining quiet for a moment, Brielle glanced down at her wedding ring, spinning it slowly about her finger in thought. "That is wonderful news. It is good to hear that you are making a step forward."

"Ah, speaking of taking steps forward," Andrew began, his smile widening ever so slightly as he glanced over her shoulder toward the door. "I have also come to the conclusion that I have been unfair to two people I should have given my kindness to."

Confused, Brielle cocked her head to the side. "What do you mean?"

Taking her hands in his, Andrew gave them a gentle squeeze before continuing. "When I first met your friend Erik I suppose I was threatened by his presence here. Because of this I have been terribly antagonizing to him despite the fact I knew I should treat him with the utmost respect."

Stunned by this uncharacteristic declaration, Brielle could only stare for several seconds in silence. "Respect him…why?"

"I would think it obvious…because he is your friend."

Touched by his words Brielle dropped the man's hands and wrapped her arms enthusiastically around his neck. "You truly are a wonderful man. It has plagued me terribly that you two haven't gotten along. You don't know how much this means to me!"

Lowering his head to rest against the top of her snowy hair Andrew closed his eyes. "Oh, I think I do," he whispered in a voice too low for her to hear. Pulling away from her slightly, the young lord smoothed a hand down the side of her cheek as Brielle smiled up at him. "Another person I have been terrible to is Arianna."

When Brielle opened her mouth to reply Andrew shook his head slowly, silencing her words. "She is my brother's only child and I have not fulfilled my duty in her care. She is a remarkably clever girl despite the problem with her speech. You should not have to raise Arianna alone any longer, to worry about her development alone. I will search the world over for the best teachers of every art and science available if you wish it. There are wonderful linguistic specialists all over Europe who no doubt can help her. Why, I know a brilliant language professor in London who has had wonderful results with children like Arianna. He would readily accept the child as a student if only I asked. Money will not be an issue, she will have the best as she deserves. You won't have to worry any more."

Astounded to the point of tears, Brielle felt her knees turn to water as relief washed over her. Andrew had, within a matter of moments, dealt a killing blow to one of her chief worries. With just a few simple words she suddenly felt a great weight being lifted from her shoulders. I won't be alone…I won't have to do it alone…

With a delighted laugh, Brielle rose up on tiptoes and planted a kiss square on the startled lord's mouth. Laughing, she pulled away. "I love you…I love you…I love you!" she chanted, ecstatic that amongst the stress of the week, one glimmering ray of hope had finally shown through.

"Andrew, thank you so…" she started before a loud commotion out in the hallway interrupted her grateful words. Jerking around to frown at the door, Brielle briefly caught a glimpse of a shadow sweeping out of sight as her daughter shifted solemnly in the doorway. Opening her mouth to address the child, the white haired woman hardly had time to blink before Aria turned and ran off down the hall.

Shooting a bewildered frown over her shoulder at Andrew, Brielle ran out of the parlor after her daughter, having dismissed the odd shadow as a figment of her imagination.

She missed the elated expression of triumph which lit Andrew's face after she left; he had seen the shadow too, but did not dismiss it.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Erik stumbled blindly down the hallway towards his room, his eyes irritatingly blurry. Why can I not see correctly? he wondered numbly, the gears of his consciousness turning faster and faster until he feared his head would explode. Every breath came too quickly on the heels of the one before, his hands and feet tingling from the dizzying oxygen levels in his blood. Only when he reached the safety of his bedroom did he even notice trails of wetness burning down his cheeks. She kissed him…she kissed him…she loves him…she said it herself…she loves him.

Shakily, he closed the door behind him, desperately clinging to the deadened shock shrouding his heart. His eyes traveled unseeing around the room he had come to consider his over the past several months. She lied…she lied…she lied………The bitch…the two cent whore….she lied…and I was foolish enough to believe…how could I have believed her?

Straightening from the door, Erik felt faint with the almost physical agony burning within his chest. Gripping a hand over his heart he fancied for a moment he heard it crumbling within him, leaving an all too familiar gaping hole of despair. At least I did not love her…betraying little wretch…at least I did not love her.

And as the numbness retreated before the advancing juggernaut of his betrayal and fury, Erik knew a terrible truth. He had been beaten…

I cannot stay here any longer.