I am really sorry for the delay. I've been very sick, but I promise never to leave a story unfinished! No matter if I have a few hiccups here or there, I will not be an author to leave you for months or years without an update. Hopefully I've gotten back into the swing of things and will update sooner. Thank you for your patience.

Ch. 29

Eyes the color of the sky on a cloudless day were rested upon the sight of a nearby carriage in town. Their blue depths roved over its details, though he could find no emblem on it, and the horses looked much the same as any other. This mysterious carriage was unique because it showed no hint as to its owner, though he immediately recognized it because of this. It was the very same black carriage that he had seen transporting the infamous Mr. Destler and his wife on the night of the Masquerade, nearly two weeks ago.

He knew that inside of the shop nearby-a woodworker's store, to be exact-he would find either the anonymous identity of the well-known architect, or his brown-skinned wife, though he was uncertain as to why she would make an appearance in a society that had rejected her. With a toothy grin, he pulled the rim of his top-hat down and wrapped his black scarf tightly around his nose and mouth, as many of the people about had done on that cold morning, in order to hide his facial features from prying eyes before he crossed the street and entered through the door.

Once inside, he immediately took to a corner of the room and pretended to examine a few trinkets in a display case. He peered around the room out of the corner of his eye to see that the owner had disappeared through another door, but he could hear their muffled voices. Only few moments later, the two of them emerged, and he quickly turned his back toward them and drew closer to a wooden pipe, as if examining it.

"Could it be delivered on Monday?" he heard Estella ask the older man. "The afternoon would be ideal, as I can dismiss a few of the servants from their duties in order to retrieve it for me."

"If it is convenient for you, then I can arrange it," the shopkeeper responded with a friendly smile.

"Thank you," she said. "My husband will adore it."

The eavesdropping man smiled to himself, for he need not turn around to know that he had found her, at last. It did not take long for him to formulate a plan in his mind as he heard her footsteps behind him as she left.

"Mrs. Destler wishes for the pianoforte to be placed here," Mr. Matthews instructed. He pointed to the open space beside him as he stood in the corner of the foyer, where the former and plainer oak piano had once been. Being an older man of many years and having the aches and pains that came with age, he did not envy the way in which the men had struggled to bring the large piano inside of the estate, and he was satisfied to have settled into the role of instructing them, instead.

The young men slowly carried the heavy piece of furniture into the space, and after carefully setting it down, they all breathed a sigh of both relief and exhaustion. Mr. Matthews commended the servants for their hard work, the beautiful instrument was covered once more by cloth to protect it, and everyone began to disperse from the room.

In the hallway, however; after most of them were out of sight, a man caught one of the footman's attention and gestured for him to join him around the corner so that the two could be alone.

The blonde-haired footman was hesitant, but his interest was piqued nonetheless. He had recognized this man, with brown curly hair, as someone who had claimed to work for the store owner and had assisted in the delivery of the instrument, though he knew nothing else about him.

"Is Estella here, at present?" this man asked in a whisper.

The blonde footman eyed him suspiciously. How did this man know the Lady of the house, and of what right did he have to call her by a name so intimate?

"Who is asking?"

He observed this man's features; curly brown hair, a strong jawline and facial structure, light blue-colored eyes, and a small amount of facial hair on his lip and chin. Most certainly he could pass for a handsome man if a woman was to look at him, and his attire was finer than one would expect a servant or a hardworking man's to be. He certainly did not look like a shopkeeper's assistant.

The stranger smiled, as if embarrassed.

"Forgive me; I have forgotten a proper introduction in all of my eagerness," he said. "Estella is a dear friend of mine-we practically shared our childhood together-and it has been so long since I have seen her. When I became aware that she was here, well...you see, I am very excited to see her one final time before I...before I am to be sent away in the military."

"I am only a footman; I'm not aware of the whereabouts of everyone on an hourly basis," the blonde waved his hand in dismissal. Of what concern was it to him what his employer's wife was doing? As long as he had duties to perform and wages to earn, he did not have the time to stand about in conversation with this man.

The man grabbed him gently by the arm before he could turn away.

"Please!" he pleaded with an expression of sadness in his eyes. "Could I at least speak with her husband? I am certain that he would be obliging..."

"You will have to come another day," the footman replied, irritated. "The Master is away and I know nothing about Mrs. Destler."

"Speak of this to no one," the man placed a sum of money into the servant's hand. "I will return at a more convenient time, and I know that she would be much more thrilled if I were to surprise her."

The footman accepted his bribe but was anxious to return to his tasks for the rest of the afternoon, and so he nodded his head curtly and left before he could be hindered by another word.

The house was nothing short of extraordinary, and Erik inhaled the crisp, clean air as he took in the sight.

Through the double doors on the second floor, a balcony that was connected to the main bedroom afforded a magnificent view of the Mediterranean seaside. Emerald green and turquoise waters crashed against the rocks in the distance, but he had also spotted a small area of sand that he was certain would provide an excellent walk.

Though the estate was slightly smaller in size in comparison to his home, it had already far exceeded anything else that he had seen, what with its large windows, open balconies, and, his favorite, an open-aired courtyard in the center of it all. He could envision Estella enjoying a book or tea in the sunlight among the flowers of the garden and having the luxury of returning indoors immediately at any moment.

The brighter colors and Italian decor were astounding, and he could already picture in his mind how grand it would all look once the house was filled with the proper furniture. He hoped, very much indeed, that his wife would enjoy it as much as he had during the past four-and-twenty hours.

During the past week, he had already secured the legalities and financial aspects of acquiring the estate, and he was prepared to return home. The only concern that had plagued his mind had been the fact that this house did not have opposite wings that were identical and had only contained one large bedroom for the Master of the house. He hoped that she would be agreeable to sleeping in the same area of the house as he, for though he would happily allow her to take the largest room with the balcony and he would settle for a smaller and more modest room, they would still be in much closer proximity than they had been accustomed to.

His fears were beginning to drift away as he journeyed home, for he thought fondly of their last moments together and the happiness that the two of them had experienced in each other's company. He prayed, more than anything, that the beautiful house that he had just acquired for her, and his love for her would be enough, and that she would be blissfully happy in her life with him.