Ch. 24
Erik shuffled through the contents of the drawer as quietly as he could before he closed it, nearly holding his own breath so as not to make a sound. His anger and frustration only proved to increase upon the realization that he could not find what he had been searching for.
John Abraham's study had more shelves in the walls and drawers in his desk and cabinets than Erik cared to remember, and he knew that it would be no small task to look throughout the entire room. He would need more time, and time was what he did not have.
The more that he dwelled on his partner's corrupt decision to hide away Estella's documents of inheritance, the more his temper rose and spurred him on to continue looking. Though he had never experienced belonging to a family, himself, he could not imagine why anyone would do such terrible things to his own flesh and blood.
He wondered if Estella's circumstances would have been different, had she been born with ivory-colored skin. Would John have doted upon her and treated her as equally as his own daughter? Most likely he would not have, but at least he might have been kinder to her.
But such had not happened. Erik was bitter to think that something so trivial as the color of her skin had shackled her life to a fate much the same as his. She was nowhere near the monstrosity that he was, in fact; she was far from it! To think that if only her aunt would have been revealed to her, then she would have been raised in a loving household and would not have had to endure the hardships that she had faced!
She would not have been mistreated by her greedy uncle, she would not have been forced to endure the mockery of her cousin, and she probably would not have met Samuel and if she had, she would not have fallen for his trickeries...but then Erik also would not have met her. He would not have been persuaded to save her from her situation and most certainly would not have even considered wedding her...he was not quite certain how he felt about that.
He shook the thoughts from his head and focused his attentions on the task-at-hand. The thought that, perhaps, John had burned the papers so that they could never be found had even crossed his mind, and he wondered if he should even bother to look, but he found that he simply could not let it go.
He fingered through papers a few minutes more until he heard the footsteps in the hallway quickly approaching. He shut the door to the cabinet in haste and managed to sit down just as the door was opened and John had appeared. He breathed a mental sigh of relief; at least the swiftness and secrecy from his former days had not eluded him.
He spared all pleasantries and empty words with the man before him, for he found that what little respect he had once held for him had completely dissipated. He would never be kind to the man who had caused a vast amount of pain and suffering to his wife, and thus his words were laced with an acidity that had even surprised John.
He did not divulge his knowledge of John's actions, instead; he decided to maintain their partnership for as long as was required for him to discover the whereabouts of Estella's father's will.
He was brief and to-the-point in his conversation, announcing to John that he would attend the ball that was to be held in honor of the house in which he had designed, and told him to relay the request that it be a masquerade. He was certain that this would not be denied him and after John had assured him that it would be carried out without complications, he took his leave.
Erik was more than relieved when he did not cross paths with Hattie, for once, and he was most determined to return home before his luck should change.
Later in the day, Erik was not surprised to hear a knock on his door and to find Estella standing on the other side. During the past two weeks-ever since he had agreed to accompany her to the Masquerade-she had made it a habit to make brief conversation with him every-so-often. At times, she would catch him in motion from one room to another and ask his opinion of something, or she would invite him to tea to discuss events that she had read about in the newspaper. While many of these topics of discussion were of little or no consequence to him, he found that he was growing rather fond of chatting with her, anyway. It was a relief to socialize without feeling pressured to divulge personal information or to argue.
This time, she asked if she might have his permission to check upon Cesar. She said that she was aware that it was snowing but that it did not look too cold out, and that she would stay inside of the stables so that she might keep warm.
Erik, still standing in the doorway, briefly wondered if he should open the door wider to let her into his room so that he might glance outside of his window in order to assess the weather, but he decided against it. He was still not quite ready to give her access to his personal quarters, and besides; he remembered that he had seen a light dusting of snow earlier that morning that had not appeared to be dangerously cold or threatening.
He was still reluctant about agreeing to her traveling out-of-doors, for he could not help but to think back to when she had been violently ill. Estella noticed his hesitance, and she began to plead with him.
"Erik, the Masquerade is not for another week, and I find that I can scarcely maintain my sanity by being indoors for so long! A little bit of snow has never harmed anyone, and if it is too cold then I should return inside, immediately!"
Erik could hardly resist the slight pout upon her lips, though her persuasion had brought up another matter which he had not thought about.
"Have you a dress for the Masquerade?" he asked, suddenly. He had not realized how close the event was approaching, and he wondered how she would have the opportunity to secure attire for the evening since she was unwilling to go to town, herself.
Estella was surprised by his question, but her mouth turned upward in a sly smile. It was a fact that Marguerite had already assisted her and even went into town on her behalf to order the gown that she had desired.
"Perhaps," she said with a flirtatious giggle, for simply the thought of it was exciting to her. She could hardly wait for him to see it!
Flirtatious behavior from a woman was foreign to Erik, and he could not decide on whether it pleased him or not. Was she mocking him, or was she genuinely in a playful mood? He could not imagine why she would have reason to flirt with a man like himself-if you could even call him a man, that is-and the thought that she was, indeed, toying with him had crossed his mind and turned his mood sour.
He wished to quickly dispel her behavior by granting her wish to go outside, though he would not allow her to go alone, even despite his ill temper.
"You may go to Cesar, but I will go with you," he said, curtly, before he went to fetch his black cloak.
Estella frowned when she noticed how quickly his light mood had changed into a brooding expression written on his features, and she wondered what error she had made to bring it about, though she remained silent as they walked the halls and descended the staircase.
Erik was determined to keep his distance from her and he reasoned with himself that he was only accompanying her in the chance that she would require anything, or if the weather was too awful to endure. He did not desire a repeat of history, but he also hoped that the time would pass quickly enough, though it did afford him the opportunity for a breath of fresh air and contemplation.
He thought about his future and prayed that the night of the Masquerade would not prove to be a grave mistake on his part. Though Estella had not shown cruel intentions thus far, he still feared that it was a trap of some sort to make him look a fool. He had never been allowed even one night of true happiness, so why had he hoped for it?
Once the two of them had stepped outside, they found that the wind had settled greatly in comparison of the last few weeks, and their skin was not met with unbearably-icy air. Estella looked up at the grey sky and marveled at the clusters of snowflakes that cascaded around them, while Erik could not help but to watch her.
She was too beautiful to ever truly be his, and he knew that it was illogical to think that he could enjoy a dance with her without repercussions, but he silently hoped and wished that it would be true. If only he could be granted one evening of a normal life-of one moment of joy-then he would never ask for anything more.
They both walked along silently, with only the sound of the snow crunching beneath their feet to be heard, as they drew closer to the stables. Erik was now deeply enveloped in his troubling thoughts and had not noticed that Estella had slowed her pace and was now a few feet away from him, and he most certainly did not hear her stop altogether.
He was startled when something collided with the middle of his back, and he quickly turned around and prepared himself for the worst. He did not have time to react before Estella threw another ball of snow at him, this one landing on his chest. Though it had only stung for a brief moment, he stared at her in utter shock.
Estella's smile began to fade as she feared that she might have upset him. She watched his brows furrow and his eyes squint at her, his mouth in a tight line that would not part the silence that filled the air, and she began to regret her behavior.
He slowly began to make his way towards her, and she was uncertain of how to respond. She could only stand, motionless, as she waited for some sort of suggestion as to what his temper was like.
She had hardly a few seconds of preparation when he reached down and grabbed a handful of snow, but she was able to quickly dart away from it when he had hurled it at her. When she had straightened up once again, it was Erik's turn to smirk at the shocked expression on her face.
Suddenly, Erik darted towards her with another fist full of hardened snow, and she wondered how he had such speed and agility, though she was unaware that he was much slower than he could have been, for her sake. Still, she ran away from him, shrieking in hysterical fits of giggles as she attempted to grab the snow from a branch and hide behind objects simultaneously so that she could retaliate.
Erik chased her around the large trunk of a tree and each time that she taunted him by revealing herself momentarily from behind it, he chuckled. She aimlessly threw another snowball in his direction that missed his person entirely, and he even felt his cheeks grow sore from grinning.
After about twenty minutes of this, the two of them were completely out of breath, and once he had chased her into an open area, Estella placed her hands on her knees and begged for mercy.
"I surrender!" she laughed, panting heavily.
Erik felt himself both wet and cold, and he could feel small chunks of ice clinging to his clothes, but he did not care. The remnant of a smirk played upon his lips as he released the snow in his hand and let it fall to the ground.
"Will you admit that I have won?" he asked, smugly.
Estella stood up to look at him as he drew closer and she smiled at the wet patches throughout his clothes.
"You are fast, but the matter of who has won is entirely an opinion," she giggled.
Erik noticed how rose-colored her cheeks had become and how strands of her wet hair clung to her face, and he found that he could not look at her for long without the desire to kiss her overpowering his thoughts. Instead, he looked away and suggested that they finish their course to the stables, and she agreed.
It should not have shocked him, though it did, when he felt the snow hit the back of his head and melt into his hair.
"But you are not fast enough!" Estella called out to him before she ran past him and towards the stables.
Her laughter filled the air and urged Erik into a sprint of his own to keep up with her, and he even found himself laughing as well. And in that moment, watching her glance back at him out of playfulness and feeling the air on his face as he ran, he felt liberated, for he had never felt so human in his entire life.