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Ch. 5
His palms sweated and his heart raced wildly when the carriage had arrived at its destination. He smoothed the lapel of his midnight-black waistcoat and watched as the illumination of the vast theatre streamed through the window.
Panic began to set in as he wondered whether or not he was making a grave mistake, and he had to reassure himself by gazing at his reflection in the glass window to make certain that his mangled flesh could not be seen.
He was grateful to have the poor lighting and the darkness as he stepped out of his carriage and made his way to the entrance. At least it was something familiar to him.
He could hear the laughter, discussions, and music drift through the air and grow louder with each step he took, and he wondered if all of the merriment would end once he had stepped inside and made his presence known. Would they notice that he wore a disguise? Had he fooled himself into believing that he looked the part of a gentleman?
And yet, as he held his breath and stepped into the grand entrance of the theatre, the festivities carried on. The stares of those of whom he passed by as he made his way deeper into the grand room in search of a familiar face did not escape his notice, however. Was it only a matter of time until they realized who-or what-he was?
Erik blamed himself for his impulsive and foolish behavior. Extorting his business partner's daughter and thinking that he could so easily blend into society was madness! He was risking his entire livelihood for a dance, when he could so easily have appeared in-mask and no one would have questioned it. Perhaps they might have adored it, for many enjoyed him as the mysterious composer!
No, for he knew how tiring the evening would be if he was to be surrounded by gossip and people guessing his identity. He would not provide an opportunity for someone to divulge him of his mask due to curiosity, even if what he was now doing was absurd.
It only took a few seconds of uneasiness for him to be convinced that he was, indeed, a fool. It did not help that, as he searched for Mr. Levour as the only acquaintance he knew, he heard a few young ladies talking amongst themselves and giggling at him.
I should have expected no less than to be mocked! Why on earth am I here? He mentally berated himself.
"Do you not wish that he would ask you for a dance?"
"He is so handsome! Such striking-colored eyes!"
Erik was certain that they could not possibly be speaking about himself, even if they were staring at him. He wanted to laugh at the absurdity. He, desired as a dance partner? Handsome? They must have been speaking of someone else!
Seeing all of the unfamiliar faces, Erik now mourned the fact that he knew no one. Of what use was it to have the luxury of appearing in public if he could not be engaged in conversation?
And then, he saw Mr. Levour. The look of amusement began to disappear on the red-haired man's face as he studied Erik with concentration. Of all people, would he be the one to discover Erik's ruse? And to think that he had risked his partnership, his position as sole composer for Rochester Theatre, and possibly even his life, all for the pleasures of one night!
Mr. Levour approached him, and Erik could not ignore the twisted knot of dread that had formed in the pit of his stomach.
"Erik, is that you?"
Erik prepared himself for the worst; he glanced about the room to determine exactly how many people would witness his revealment and where the nearest escape would be. He would have to overthrow a few large women and tall men in order to reach a nearby opened window, but it could be managed.
"Why, out of all of the gentlemen with whom I am acquainted with, I never expected you to attend a ball! And without your mask, at that!" Mr. Levour extended his hand for Erik to shake, which he did so reluctantly.
"So you admit, then, that you have been withholding from the ladies?" Mr. Levour asked with a wink. "But oh, how your identity has added such mystery and intrigue surrounding the theatre! People have made it a game of sorts to guess the persona of the illusionary 'Masked Composer'. But here you are, just as ordinary as the rest of us-though I suspect that the women will find you a prime dance partner and enviable suitor," he laughed whole-heartedly.
Erik was relieved-more than relieved, even; he was delighted that his idea had worked. No longer would he have to hide in the shadows! He felt liberated. No longer would he be shackled to the destiny of his mask! How long he had waited-
"Ah, my darling daughters are here to join us," Mr. Levour exclaimed cheerfully as the two women with similar features approached them.
Gisette and Cora were dressed equally as extravagant; the younger sister in gold brocade and the plainer Cora in a green that matched her eyes and brought out the color of her fiery mane.
While the bubbly and charming Gisette was most certainly more pleasing to look at, as most men would concur, Erik's gaze did not leave the face of the plainer sister and she found every reason to look away. He knew by her silence that she would not reveal him, and this gave him even greater satisfaction.
Cora was irritated that she was forced to acknowledge Mr. Destler's presence.
Is it not enough to bear his ill temper whenever he wishes, and now I must treat him as if he were a gentleman? she thought bitterly.
Erik thought her cold demeanor to be from her disgust in what she had seen hours earlier, and he was displeased that her reaction was no different than that of anyone else who had seen him, albeit more composed. He wondered how she had learned to hide such strong feelings of repulsion, for he knew that they were there.
At least she will not run away and scream, he thought. She is the very definition of deception; wearing a false facade to hide her horror of me!
Gisette batted her long eyelashes and pulled out a small embroidered handfan to smile behind as she pretended to relieve herself from the suffocating heat in the room. Erik noticed how vain she appeared to be.
"You really must have a dance with my daughters, if you're not already committed to too many cards this evening," Mr. Levour urged.
"Oh, yes," Gisette agreed, "I would fancy a dance, if Mr. Destler were to ask."
Erik was unaccustomed to the etiquette and mannerisms of society, and so he found the polite superficiality in behavior a nuisance, though he played his part.
"But of course," he responded before he extended his arm for her. The way in which Cora rolled her eyes did not escape his notice.
Cora watched the pair dismiss themselves and make their way to the other room with a smirk. She knew that her less-experienced, overindulged, and anxious-to-wed sister would be grating on Mr. Destler's nerves.
He deserved it.
Erik had never known a waltz to be endured for so long a time and was grateful when he did not need to renew his offer a second time. Gisette had proven to be the very opposite of her sister in every way, prattling on about the latest fashions that she owned and the many suitors who visited her (presumably mentioning this in thinking it would increase her value in his eyes).
He had excused himself and joined the scattered people viewing the dance on the outskirts of the room, enjoying the lack of conversation. Being out in society was foreign and tiring, indeed!
"Would you not love to dance with him? Do you think that he will ask you, since he has already danced with your sister?"
Erik overheard the pair of women who stood not far from him as he watched the dance and chose to refrain that round, himself. He did not know what to make of the fact that more than one woman had complimented him in a matter of less than an hour.
It is the ruse that they compliment, he thought dryly. They would never say these things if they saw who I really am.
Still, it felt like a breath of fresh air to to think that any woman would enjoy his presence.
"I neither know nor care," Cora responded callously and took a sip of wine from the glass that she held. She was completely unaware that he could hear everything she said, though she hoped that he would catch her words.
"How I wish I could say I am surprised but, hearing it from you, I am not!" her companion giggled. "I never understood why you do not like men."
"It is not that I do not like them," Cora defended herself. "But why should I pay attention to any and every man who shows gentlemanlike behavior in the presence of others? That does not testify to who he is in secret."
Her words stung Erik, but he remained silent. He could only assume that she was speaking of him as a monster hidden behind the facade of a handsome gentleman. She was, instead, speaking about his manners and temper.
"Besides, you know that I do not wish to marry. Dancing is the first step to becoming acquainted with a man to decide if he is worthy of courtship, and so I have no need for it."
"So you would not agree if he was to ask?"
"Most certainly not! And I do wish that you would stop speaking about him," Cora replied, annoyed.
She ceased speaking abruptly when Erik approached the two of them. Her companion, Jane, blushed profusely, while Cora merely gave enough of a curtsy that would not display obvious rudeness but was not exactly cordial, either.
"Mr. Destler?"
"I was wondering, if perhaps, you might honor me with a dance," he suggested with a toothy grin. "I thought that you appeared to be fond of those and lacking a partner."
He knew how aggravated she was and delighted in exercising his authority over her, even if it was only the two of them who were aware of it.
She glared at him and finished the last of her drink before she replied with sarcasm and a forced smile, "There is nothing that would bring me greater pleasure."
"I must confess that I did not expect you to acknowledge my presence in the company of others," she admitted.
"Whyever not, when there is so much to discuss?"
She ignored the way in which he seemed to take pride in taunting her. "What with all of the ladies of society practically salivating over you and offering themselves up on a silver platter, I would have thought you to have better taste than to choose my company."
"Are you not also a 'lady of society'? Oh, yes, but you choose to disguise yourself as a man," he countered with sarcasm. "Is the life of a wealthy woman with many suitors too burdensome for you?"
He could not understand why someone who was born with priviledge and no blemishes would wish to be another person. What he would not give to have been born without deformity!
"You know nothing of my life!" she spat, still quiet enough that no one could overhear them.
The two were seperated when they were forced to dance around a couple beside them, and when they were reunited, she added, "Have you only asked for a dance in order to insult me for your own amusement? I was aware of my obligation to assist you in your preparations, but I had no knowledge of it extending beyond that!"
After Mr. Destler had first revealed himself to her earlier that day, she had felt shame for her rebellion and compassion to assist him, but once she had noticed that he would still treat her as his cornered prey even after she had helped him, she grew tired of being cordial. Her emotions were constantly teetering between sympathy for his behavior and refusal to be treated as inferior.
It was a most tiring war waged within herself.
"At least you recognize that you do have an obligation to me, which I will use whenever I choose to-"
"-insufferable man!" she interrupted angrily. "Do you always threaten others to do as you please? It is no wonder that you have not made friends sooner-"
Erik pulled her closer and growled quietly, "If you value your life then I would advise you not to finish your sentence!"
Cora straightened up with an air of rebellion. "I will abide by your demands for a disguise, because you are clearly incapable of behaving like a gentleman and I value the privacy of my secrets. But if you are searching for entertainment-for a plaything-or someone to laugh at, then I am afraid that you have confused me for my sister!"
The song ended at precisely the opportune time for her to take her leave without another word spoken. And although she frustrated him to no end, he had to admire her for her boldness, for neither Christine nor the people at the Opera Populaire would have spoken to him with such brevity.
What a strange creature she was, indeed.