Thank you PumpkinKitten, MarilynKC, michellecarriveau, RedDeathLvr, Marial0789, and Nami Swannn (and to anyone else out there who is reading this-please make yourself known so that I might have the pleasure of hearing what you think!)!
Ch. 27
Erik watched her return inside, and though he had followed her to the doorway, he had lost sight of her almost immediately after she had begun to weave through the bodies of guests. He leaned against the open door-frame with his arms crossed in an attempt to prevent anyone from sneaking past and occupying the balcony. He would do all that he could in his power in order to prevent anyone from interrupting the two of them, again, once she returned.
Being unable to keep a close eye on her, however, made him so uncomfortable that he had changed his mind. Instead of guarding the door, he decided to step outside and find a nearby window that would allow him to see into the adjacent rooms. He did not trust the strangers in the house, and it made him anxious to know that Estella was among these crude people, alone. If only he could just catch a glimpse of her, to know that she was alright...
He felt the wave of relief wash over him when he saw her in the next room through the window pane, and he was careful not to breathe directly onto the glass so that he could see clearly through it. Now that he had neither his cloak nor the warmth of Estella's kiss, he noticed how frigid the air was, and while he began to shiver, he could not pull himself away from viewing her. If she should require his intervention, then he would need to be able to see her at that moment.
Meanwhile, a tray of chocolate morsels had caught Estella's eye, but she found herself feeling shy when it came to requesting a bite. She hesitated to approach the servant who held the silver platter, but when he had smiled warmly at her she felt herself relax.
"May I?" she asked the tall, grey-haired man with bushy eyebrows.
He acquiesced by offering the tray to her with a white-gloved hand, and she was grateful to know that at least one person in society-even if he was only a servant-could treat her with kindness. Smiling, she eyed the desserts to see which one she wanted, for there were at least three different types, and she recognized them to be pieces of chocolate-covered fruit. Strawberries were always her favorite, and she reached her hand up and gingerly took one for herself.
"With skin so soft and exotic, who could ever have eyes for another?"
Estella felt something imaginary grip her heart tightly in her chest, and she could hear it pounding slowly in her ears. At first, she thought that she had imagined those words, but upon realizing that she had not, she found that she couldn't breathe. Dare she turn around to look?
"No, for you are my torment day and night, but I find that the torture is sweet..."
These words were nearly whispered in her ear, and she spun around to see the source of the man's voice, though she was unsuccessful. How could she find him, when there were so many in close proximity of her and all wore masks?
Erik had not seen the exchange, for no one had directly approached Estella and he was unaware of what she had heard, but he noticed something unusual in her behavior. She had become paralyzed for a few moments, as if she was confused or contemplating something, though he was uncertain as to what it was. And when she had whipped around and he could see her searching around her, he knew that something was wrong.
Estella felt as if the room had suddenly become smaller and her world was closing in on her. The voices around her became a muffled buzzing, and she could not concentrate on anything around her, for she had been tormented by the thought of that man. Was he hiding somewhere, enjoying the effects that he had had on her? Had he been watching her throughout the night?
Erik quickly walked towards the door so that he could find her, but he was stopped. A portly man who looked to be in his late years of sixty had prevented him from entering the door.
"There you are!" he slurred very loudly. "I knew there was-that it was you!"
Erik was growing impatient with the man quickly, and had even considered pushing the drunkard aside if it would not draw unwanted attention to himself.
This man was dressed in a black and white costume, but one could not determine what he was dressed as. His belly protruded and the nearly-empty glass of wine shook in his hand, which he had been waving about carelessly. Erik watched this man with a fiery glare as he spilled a few drops of the red liquid on himself unknowingly.
"The last time that I saw you, your mother was a little girl!"
"I have not an idea of what you are talking about, but I must return inside!" Erik growled impatiently. He attempted to look for Estella in the room but could hardly see a thing from his position behind the man.
"Does she still live on the farm?" he chuckled to himself.
Erik had had enough; without a moment more of hesitation, he brushed past the man and did not care that it was rough enough to spill the rest of the contents of his glass onto the man's attire. Instead, he pushed past the numerous mingling guests in search of her, and a part of him began to worry when he did not see her.
He made his way to the room that she had been in, but found it difficult to navigate the room with people becoming obstacles in his path. He felt his nerves on edge the longer that it took for him to inch his way closer to the door that he knew would lead him to her, and he cursed himself for ever allowing her to wander on her own.
"Erik," he heard her say. Suddenly, he felt her touch his arm gently, and he turned around to see her with worry on her features.
"Is something the matter?" he asked, concerned.
Estella feared that he was aware of what had happened, but she gave a forced smile in an attempt to hide it, anyway.
"Not at all," she said. "I decided that I no longer have an appetite."
He gazed at her, his stare unflinching and unbelieving. She noticed that he was reluctant to accept her answer.
"Someone spoke something rude to me, that is all," she lied. "Please, do not worry yourself on my behalf."
Erik wished to find out what had been said and who had said it to her, but he was not allowed the opportunity to speak, for she had already changed the topic of discussion by asking for another dance. He obliged, though he was still not satisfied with her answer.
Time had not passed in the way that Estella had wanted, however, for instead of being able to enjoy her final dances with Erik for the night, she could not ignore the feeling that she was being watched. It was far different from how she had felt earlier that night, for while she knew that there were many who had stared and gossiped about her for being different than everyone else, this time it was a sensation of uneasiness that made her sick to her stomach. It was as if she was being preyed upon silently in the mind of someone evil.
Erik noticed how she would attempt to hide the glances that she would cast about the room while they were turning, as if she was looking for someone in particular. With each moment in which she was not behaving cheerfully as she had been earlier, he could feel the dread in his throat.
After another song had ended, he ceased to resume their dancing.
"There is something that you are not telling me," he stated.
If only that old hag had never interrupted their kiss outside, then he might still possibly be enjoying Estella's affections, instead of feeling as if the night had taken a turn for the worse and wondering why!
Her eyes met his, but her mind was elsewhere. All that she could think about were the words that had been spoken into her ear. She did not need to see the man to know who had taunted her, and in all of her excitement to experience a ball for the first time, she had not stopped to contemplate whether or not he would be attending.
"I am feeling rather exhausted," she defended. "Would you be greatly disappointed if we return home?"
He would be disappointed, but only because it would mean that spending such intimate time with her would come to an end. He agreed, however, that he had had enough of the people who had surrounded them and did not care for the company of others.
Despite the instinct that told him that this was not all that had bothered her, he agreed that they could leave, but not without giving the room one last glance to find out who she had been searching for. But he could see no face among the masks that hid them.
Once they had stepped through the door to their estate, Estella immediately felt relieved. While there were moments during the evening when she had enjoyed herself immensely, she had decided that the night had only proved even more that she did not belong in society. She was grateful to be returning to the comfort of her own home, without the gazes and whispers about her. Though the gossip was inconsequential, for she did not know anyone in the room of whom she feared their opinion, she found it much easier to be herself when she was around Erik, alone, and her time with him had been interrupted constantly.
Erik stopped her before she could retire to her room for the night and told her that he had something to give her. As he led her to his room, he could not help but to dwell on their kiss and wish that the moment had not passed.
He went to retrieve an envelope from his room, but before he gave it to her, he informed her,
"I am no longer in partnership with your uncle."
She was surprised to hear this, for though she was uncertain as to how many years the two men had worked together, she knew that it could not have been an easy decision to end their business together.
"But why?" she asked, confused.
Erik glanced down at the envelope that he held in his hands as he thought of a response, and he knew what the contents were.
"I cannot keep company with someone so corrupt as to hide this from you," he explained.
He offered her the envelope, which she took with reluctance. It looked aged and worn, but she could read her name on the front.
"His treatment of you is something that I cannot tolerate," he added.
Estella was uncertain as to whether or not she wanted to open the letter at that moment, for she was afraid of what it would say. Instead, she asked one of the many questions that loomed in her mind.
"What will you do?"
Erik was not concerned for what his financial future held, for he knew that he would need not lift another finger in work in his lifetime.
"We have more than enough to sustain us," he said.
"I meant with your talents," she replied with a small smile. "They will be wasted if you do not use them."
He was flattered to hear her compliment him, but he was uncertain as to what he would do in regards to keeping himself busy. He knew that if his mind was not preoccupied with something other than her, then he would surely be driven to insanity.
"I am not certain," he admitted. "But I can search elsewhere for an occupation."
Estella nodded in acknowledgement and turned her attention to the letter. She opened it and unfolded the many sheets of paper that had turned a darker yellow color over time and noted how there were small tears in its edges and corners.
Once she had straightened it out, she noted that she did not recognize the writing. But upon reading the first sentence, a chill swept down her spine as she realized who the author was.
"To My Darling Daughter, Estella Rose Crawley," she read. She stifled a gasp with her hand and glanced up at Erik with wide eyes.
"How did you...?" she began to ask with a teary gaze, but she was too impatient to read its contents to finish her question.
"I hope that a great amount of time has passed since writing this letter when it has found you, as it means that I am no longer with you. I pray that there are many years we can share together, but if this will not be the case, then I hope that my letter can be a source of comfort to you.
"I leave my estate in its entirety and all of my possessions to you. I am aware that society forbids my one and only daughter from inheritance, but I care not as to the customs and traditions that are prevalent in the world-you must not cooperate if there is a quarrel, for you deserve everything that I have rightfully earned.
"If, for whatever reason, both your dear mother and I have passed before our time and you are not yet a woman, my wishes are for you to live with my sister, Rosalie. I have written a similar letter to her so that she may be aware of this, and I know that she will love you as her own.
"Lastly, my precious daughter, my desire is for you to know how much your mother and I both cherish and love you. Despite what others will say to you, no matter if you hear otherwise, you are beautiful. You are a rare and valuable treasure, and I pray that if a man ever holds your heart that he deserves you.
"With all of my love,
William J. Crawley."
The tears were trailing down Estella's cheeks when she had finished, and she noticed another letter behind her father's final page. Erik watched her with mixed emotions, for he was both satisfied to have found the letters for her and troubled to watch her cry.
"My Beloved Estella,
"Words cannot describe how much I love you. The thought of you reading this letter-of me not being with you-brings pain to my heart. You are my darling daughter, and I have not been more proud of anything in my life than I have been of you.
"I know that our decisions have had, and will have, great effects on you throughout your life, as I, myself, have not been immune to the hardships faced because of your father's marriage to me. Any difficulties that you will have in life shall only cause you to be stronger and shape the beautiful, accomplished woman that I know you will become.
"Your father is a rare man, for he has loved me despite my dark skin and the ridicule that he has faced for it, but he is proof that it is possible for someone to see you for who you are. Even if it may seem unlikely at first, there are people in the world who can and will love you.
"My wish for you is that, if you ever decide to love, to never settle for less than you are worth, and to find the man who will love you for your difference. May you experience the joy that I have had by being loved impartially by your father; may you find the man who makes you believe in a better world and will face anything to be with you, for there is no greater feeling than love that perseveres.
"I will always love you, my dearest daughter.
Elizabeth M. Crawley."
Estella glanced back up at Erik through blurred vision, and at first, she was speechless. How much trouble he must have gone through in order to find these letters, for she knew that her uncle would have gone through great lengths to hide them! And to think that he had done this for her, when it was unnecessary and did not benefit him! It was a purely selfless act, and she had the greatest admiration for him in that moment.
"I can never repay you for what you have done...for what you have given me," she stated, at last.
"Will you make it known to your uncle that you are aware of your inheritance?" he asked curiously.
She wiped the remaining tears from her cheeks and tucked the letters back into the envelope for safekeeping. She would be certain to keep it in a place where she could always pull it out to read when she wished to be comforted.
"No," she shook her head. "I want nothing to do with him."
"But you will not take what is rightfully yours?" he asked, surprised. Would not any woman be elated to know that she had inherited a lot of money and the ability to humiliate her hated uncle at the same time?
"He can have it all," she replied. "My heart is now at peace to know that my parents loved me-that I have been loved all of these years when I thought it impossible, and that I will continue to carry their love in myself."
It was as if a great burden had been lifted from her, and her mind would rest easier at this closure. To that end, she was also brought to the realization that she had, indeed, found the very man whom her parents had written of.
He was standing there before her and then bid her goodnight.