Ch. 23
Erik watched the form of Estella disappear without explanation or even turning to look at him, and he was bewildered. His heart still pounded within the confines of his chest and he could neither move nor think clearly.
He could still feel the tenderness of her lips upon his own, and his palms had begun to sweat, and he cursed himself for wearing his leather gloves. If only he had removed them so that he could have felt her skin with his fingertips!
He wanted more of her; he yearned to have her in his arms. As he continued to gaze at the top of the stairs where she had disappeared, he had half the mind to follow her, though he remained in place, dumbfounded.
He certainly had never expected her to kiss him again, and her reason for doing so was utterly confusing to him. He could not help but to think that perhaps she was toying with him. Perhaps she found a thrill in stirring up these emotions within him and rendering him speechless. She probably knew what she had done to him and took pleasure in it, even.
But there had been no cruelty in her words, no bitterness written on her beautiful features. Her kiss had not been forced, and it was not the result of inebriation. She had not been threatened with her lover's life, terrified of him, or felt pity for him. She had simply kissed him.
Though he did not know her motives for doing it, it was certainly unlike anything that he had ever experienced, before. The innocence of it all was exhilarating. For once in his life, a woman kissed him, and of her own initiative!
And better yet, she actually wished to see him again! He felt excited at the prospect of tea in the morning, and he wondered whether or not he was capable of exercising the patience to wait until the next day had arrived.
He had the strongest urge to go to her room, after all; how could she possibly expect him not to? How could she have the ability to calmly walk away from him, while even minutes later he still felt the effects of their kiss?
She had awakened in him an appetite that could not be satiated; she had given him a taste of the affection that he has always wanted. How he yearned to feel her embrace and to be reminded of their tender moment so that he would never forget how it felt!
Despite all logic and reason, he could not help but to wonder if she could ever grow to love him. Was he allowing himself to hope too quickly? Was he traveling down the dangerous path that he had once been on?
Curse this face! he screamed in his mind as he decided to seek the solitude of his room. Had he been a normal man, then he was certain that he would have had a normal life, instead of experiencing his first true kiss so late in his years and without the guarantee of another. Would he always be so close to acquiring love that it felt as if he could grasp it, yet it was always impossible?
Inside of his room, he paced back and forth as his thoughts raced and he struggled inwardly with the demons of his past.
He spent hours reminding himself of all that he had suffered at the hands of Christine in an attempt to persuade himself from thinking of such impossible scenarios. He did not wish to develop false hope, for he could not bear another broken heart.
He felt over and over again the very same feelings of when he had been betrayed, yet he reasoned with himself foolishly that maybe this time would be different.
He could picture in his mind the fear that Christine had displayed for him and how even her beauty had been tainted by the terror in her eyes, yet he convinced himself that Estella had never looked at him in that way.
He remembered the pain in which he had felt when Christine had left him once and for all, yet he reminded himself that Estella had returned on her own.
This could not possibly be a repeat of history, could it? Was it not far different from what he had ever experienced? Yet, he was afraid to nurture this reasoning and to allow himself to dwell on these pleasant emotions.
Again, he pondered whether or not he should go to Estella's room, even if it was late at night and she should be sleeping. If she had kissed him out of her own desire, would she not be agreeable to seeing him again?
Control yourself! he cursed in his mind. It was acting on his impulses and desires which had led to the ruin of his former life in the first place, and if anything, he should have learned from it.
He knew better than to push the boundaries and tempt fate, no matter how difficult it was to convince himself to remain in his room and far away from Estella. No matter if he was restless in the night and sleep would not welcome him, he refused to open his door in fear that he would not be able to turn back.
He would be grateful for what she had given him, even if he should never be kissed again, for he felt that he had done nothing in his life to deserve it. She had already bestowed upon him more than he had ever imagined or dared to hope and dream. He would need to be satisfied with a kiss, and he would not take her generosity for granted.
Eventually when sleep finally came to him, he was thankful that in his dreams he could enjoy her lips for as long as he wished, and that he did not need to fear for the future.
"I am so glad that you are back, M'Lady," Marguerite smiled as she assisted Estella with her attire.
Estella smiled warmly in return and was thankful to have the servant as her companion, even if only for brief moments during the day. After she had finished clothing herself in a light-green and teal-colored gown, she sat still and allowed the redhead to brush her coarse hair. She stared into the mirror and watched her as she gently untangled the curls that now reached past her shoulders.
"Please forgive me for not taking you with me," she replied. "I left so quickly, and I still must grow accustomed to having a Lady's Maid."
"There is no need to explain yourself, M'Lady," Marguerite assured her as she began to pin up her curls.
"Was Mr. Destler truly sad?" Estella asked out of curiosity.
"Devastated!" Marguerite responded, her tone now serious. "I know that he is a man of few words and it is a rare sight to see him at all, but I could tell. He attempted to persuade me to relinquish my position as your Lady's Maid, but I knew that you would return."
Estella frowned at the reminder of the pain that she had caused Erik, but she hoped that with the plan that she had in mind, she could compensate him. She would do her best never to hurt him in that way again, for as long as she had the power not to.
After she had requested a copy of the newspaper and a tray of tea, Estella made her way to the foyer and waited patiently for Erik to arrive. Once he had emerged in the doorway, she was relieved to know that he would not avoid her yet again.
"Good morning," she greeted him cheerfully.
Erik hesitated to step into the room, unsure of how he should behave in her presence. The previous night had been so surprising to him and her actions so unexpected that he could not help but to gaze at her in bewilderment.
"Will you sit beside me?" she softly patted the cushion of the divan beside herself.
Though on any other day Erik would have second-guessed his decision to comply with her request, he found that he could not resist the warmness of her smile. He did, however, still resume his reservations even after sitting beside her with an aloofness that was not abnormal in his behavior.
The tea was brought in at the most opportune moment and set on the table in front of the two of them. Estella poured a cup of the steaming liquid and offered it to Erik, but he refused. He was much too anxious and his mind too preoccupied to hold the hot cup in his hands.
He wished to ask her about her motives for kissing him, but he found that he did not have the courage. Perhaps it was something that she wished to forget-a lapse in judgement-or the answer would bring him pain. Instead, he waited for her to explain why she had wanted him to join her for the tea that he would not be drinking.
Estella swirled a sugar cube in the cup until it had melted, and after blowing on the hot tea, she took a sip. Peppermint had always been her favorite, and she found pleasure both in the taste of it, and in prolonging the suspense that was written on Erik's features before she began to speak.
"I wanted to tell you of my visit with my dear aunt, Rosalie," she said.
Though intrigued, Erik could not deny that he was a bit disappointed. He was hoping for an explanation of her actions in regards to himself, but he knew that he should not have expected to receive one.
"I had not seen her since I lost my parents, and she was just as kind as I remembered," Estella smiled sadly as she recalled her fond memories to mind. "She has been the only one to love me despite my color, and she reminds me so of my father."
Erik slowly nodded, though he didn't quite know what to say. He could not empathize with her, for he had never experienced having a family, though he did feel sad that she had lost another person in death.
"Rosalie wished for me to live with her as a child, but later discovered that my uncle was keeping me a secret from her," Estella glanced down at her cup and her jaw tightened. "I always knew that he was ashamed of me, and even corrupt, but I never would have expected him to hinder me from a life of happiness with someone else."
Erik, too, felt his blood begin to boil at the thought. He had never truly realized the full extent of his partner's greed and wickedness until she had made this confession to him, and he was most certain to be a bit more harsh than normal with John the next time that he would see him.
"Rosalie said that my father most certainly left me a will, but that John has prevented anyone from discovering it."
"Then we must find it-"
"No, it does not matter to me, now. Let him live the life that he chose, for nothing could persuade me to step foot inside of that house again," she said.
She grew silent as she pondered how she should bring up her next piece of information.
"Regardless of how my life has transpired, I thought that you might like to know that I have become an heiress."
Erik was surprised to hear that she had inherited everything from her aunt, and a part of him feared the worst. Now that she was wealthy on her own, would she need him anymore? Would this be a reason for her to leave permanently, for she could now be self-sufficient?
Estella observed him carefully and it was almost as if she could read his mind. In order to assure him of any depressing thoughts he might have had, she added,
"I know that you already have your wealth, but together we shall want for nothing. It is a bit perverted, isn't it? For us both to have suffered and to desire all of which money cannot buy, yet we find that we now have a fortune?"
He was relieved to hear that she still considered him a part of her life and it seemed as if she had had no inclination to leave. He could only hope that this meant something more than he thought it probably did.
"Have you read the newspaper this morning?" she asked suddenly.
Erik was confused by her sudden change of topic, but he told her that he had not. Estella picked up the folded paper and pointed to an article. Erik caught a glimpse of the title "Ball to Be Held in Honor of the Completion of Kensington Park", and while he had recognized the location of this party, he was still perplexed as to why she had brought it up.
"I have read the article and I know that this is the estate in which you were responsible for designing recently," she said. "It is described as such a lovely building...and I was wondering, if perhaps, we might attend, so that I might see it for myself."
He was shocked to hear her propose such an absurd idea. Was it not enough that he had been humiliated all of his life for wearing a mask, and now she thought it pleasant for him to expose himself to the general public, that he should endure their stares at best and perhaps even their shrieks of terror? It was out of the question!
"I must admit that I am surprised to hear that you have a desire to go. Is there not a reason that you have avoided association with others?" he asked, annoyed. "Do you not think that the idiots of society who host these sorts of events will not take the color of your skin lightly? I find no fault in you..."
He began to stutter as he saw her watching him, and he allowed the words to slip out before he had the chance to consider them, "You are quite beautiful, actually..."
He hated himself for speaking his mind, especially after he had noticed the look of surprise on her features, and he hoped that he could pretend that he had never spoken such words.
"I do not think that an evening of mockery sounds like a pleasant time, and they would most certainly be kinder to you than to me," he added. He cleared his throat and hoped that she had understood the sense of what he was implying, instead of the fact that he had made a fool of himself. It seemed as if she had turned him into a blubbering twit as-of-late, instead of his composed and refined self.
Estella had been pleasantly surprised to hear him compliment her, and she even found herself overjoyed at the fact that he thought that she was beautiful. Though he was by no means a perfect individual and even had great personality flaws-such as avoiding her when it was unnecessary, having a shortness of temper and an excess of self-hatred-he had been the kindest and most generous man whom she had ever met, and she was thrilled to know that he thought of her in this way.
She allowed herself to revel in his compliment a bit longer before she addressed his response.
"I knew that you would have quarrels about it and did not expect you to comply. I, myself, cannot pretend not to fear for how I would be treated. But what if it was suggested to the host to have the ball as a masquerade? It would be easy enough for us to disguise ourselves..."
Erik noticed her enthusiasm, but he could not mirror it. The last time in which he had attended a masquerade had been years ago, and it was not a fond memory. How could he ever wish to relive the night in which he had watched the woman whom he loved become engaged to another man? It was the very same night in which he had given the managers his written opera-the opera that he had performed on the worst and final day of the life he had known.
He looked away from Estella, though he would not tell her his reasons for disapproving the notion.
"I am afraid that I cannot attend," he stated simply.
"Why not? I am certain that the host would acquiesce, since it would be requested by the designer of the estate, himself-"
"You do not understand..." Erik said, sadly. "The last time in which I attended a masquerade was a night that I wish to forget. You may go, if you wish, but I will not join you."
Estella frowned. She had not expected him to deny her request, especially after suggesting that their identities could be concealed and they would need not worry about the opinions or treatment of others.
"I would not attend without you. Forgive me for asking," she said curtly.
She had never had the ability to attend a gathering of any sort, and she had allowed her emotions to run away with her when she had first thought of the idea. She had imagined herself adorned in a beautiful dress and enjoying the night, as she had seen her cousin do so many times without her. She had developed a hope that was now crushed as quickly as it had formed within her.
Erik did not expect her to refrain from going without him, and he looked back at her to see the sad longing in her eyes, though she had attempted to hide it with another sip of her tea. He was surprised to hear that she desired his company, and he even felt guilty for denying it.
"Do you really wish for me to go?" he asked after noticing her depressed mood.
"Yes!" she replied, quickly. "I could not go unless you come with me."
He was touched to hear her admission, and he was once again reminded of his desire to kiss her. Instead, he swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat and nodded, though he knew that he would regret his decision.
"Alright, then we shall go."