Kire22
"What happened?" Meg asked frantically. I knew by the look on her face that she would continue to interrogate me for as long as she was able to hold me captive. Her knit brow and narrowed eyes reminded me far too much of her mother.
"Nothing," I replied, keeping my tone as even as possible.
"With you, there is no such thing as nothing," she retorted.
"You needn't concern yourself," I muttered.
I opened the front door, heard the sound of two babies wailing, and—to my surprise—felt Meg brush past me. I watched her gather her skirts and nearly run back to her bedroom. She excused herself once she reached the end of the hall and offered her apology despite none being needed. Evidentially the needs of her children outweighed her curiosity.
Since our conversation had abruptly ended, I locked the door and gave it a firm tug to make certain the lock held. Still on edge, I checked the windows as well, then walked upstairs and found my dresser and closet ransacked.
For a long moment I stood dumbfounded, seething that my personal belongings were amiss. I stalked toward my closet and discovered my shirts had been arranged from light to dark.
Taking a deep breath, I shook my head and assumed that in my absence Julia had taken the liberty to gather up and pack whatever she thought was suitable for our holiday. To my surprise, I also discovered she had straightened my compositions. My carefully constructed piles of new work, rewritten pieces, and jotted down notes that came to me in the middle of the night, were now assembled in a single heap, placed together in a neat but useless stack.
For a long moment I stood staring at my desk, wondering what had possessed her to do such a thing. I imagined she found her organization quite necessary and most likely helpful. I took a deep breath and ran my hands over my hair as I reminded myself Julia had no idea how I worked on my music. Every sheet had been arranged in a specific time line or preference, but now…now there was no arrangement—at least not to me. The desk appeared perfectly organized, however, it was no longer suitable for a composer.
"Oh, Julia," I said under my breath.
With a sigh, I trudged down the stairs and out the back door, my irritation with the situation on the street somewhat curbed by the thought of Julia happily packing and making certain every detail was observed. I shook my head at the thought of her carefully plucking each sheet of music and happily placing them on the desk in a neat stack.
Bessie met me at the back door and issued a rather heavy sigh, clearly disappointed that I was taking leave without her.
"Guard the house," I instructed.
Her tail thumped the ground, which was as much as I expected from her as a response. Considering how she had reacted to Aria, I doubted her ability to keep an intruder away. She would most likely hide beneath the bed and save herself.
With my mind still racing, I locked the back door, which I had never done before, and slipped quietly through the gate.
Julia's house was quiet when I entered unnoticed through the kitchen. Muffled voices upstairs indicated Alex and Lisette were playing within Lissy's bedroom and light from the parlor most likely meant Julia was sewing or reading.
I took a deep breath and lingered, appreciating a perfectly normal and domestic moment. What others took for granted on a daily basis, I savored.
A plate of cookies with a note underneath caught my attention before I passed through. I moved the cookies aside and reached for the note first.
We survived Day One. I love you.
Julia's simple note made me smile. I tucked the card into my pocket, hung my coat by the back door, and took a cookie from the plate before striding through the house to the parlor.
When I had first started to pay Julia visits, I noticed she would arrange whatever dessert she served in a carefully presented manner. There was never a mere scattering of treats as Meg or Madeline would have done. The first time I had noticed the arrangement on a dessert plate, I found her attention to detail quite peculiar.
Why she ever bothered with me in the first place I still couldn't tell, but I suspected she was still going through the trouble.
The smallest of details made me realize how much I truly loved her.
Julia looked up and smiled the moment I walked through the parlor door. She had a book in her lap and her sewing basket at her feet. In the chair where I normally sat beside from her was Lisette's new doll.
"Back from your walk?" Julia asked cheerfully.
"How did you know?" I questioned, feeling as though she wished to interrogate me in the same manner as Meg.
Julia's smile widened. "Because I know you," she reminded me. Pausing, she looked me over before she placed her book on the table and stood. "And I know you were probably out looking for the man you saw earlier," she added.
Her words left me momentarily stammering for a suitable answer. "I took Bessie for a walk," I started, but my words were no use. I looked away from her, strode toward the windows, and made certain they were secure.
"Did you see him?" she asked before I could elaborate. Her tone remained even, but when I glanced over my shoulder, I saw her wringing her hands.
"No," I answered, disappointed that I had failed in finding anyone or anything of interest.
Julia's shoulders relaxed and she sighed as though the issue at hand was now moot. "Then Archie was correct. We have nothing to worry about."
I pulled off my mask and wiped my face. "There is always something to worry about," I argued.
Julia shook her head. "There doesn't have to be," she said gently.
Despite her best intentions, I remained unsettled. There were some fears that would only belong to me, I realized—and I considered that both a blessing and a curse.
"Tell me," she whispered as she stepped closer and placed her hand on my chest.
I glanced down at her delicate fingers and the ring I placed on her hand. Such a simple token I had bestowed upon her, but one with many promises attached. "I beg your pardon?"
"Whatever bothers you, please don't keep it bottled inside," she begged. "I know you have so much on your mind and I hate seeing you worried, especially before our holiday."
"I'm not worried," I argued. Cautious yes, perhaps guarded, I wanted to tell her, but not worried. I was fulfilling my duty as her husband and as a father. I would not allow anyone or anything to harm my family.
Julia shook her head. "All day long you've been concerned about Meg and Charles and now I can still see the worry in your eyes. I know you, Erik, I know when your thoughts are elsewhere."
As much as I wanted to argue that no one knew me, Julia was correct. She knew me in ways no one else did, however, she would never understand just how much she meant to me.
"There is honestly nothing to tell," I tried explaining. "I thought I saw someone, but it turned out to be nothing."
"Who did you think you saw?" she asked, keeping her voice low as though she feared she would disturb the children.
"A man I knew many years ago," I reluctantly answered.
"A friend?" she questioned, sounding almost hopeful.
In all honesty I wasn't sure how to refer to the Daroga, who had been in Paris a decade earlier. When I had originally met him some twenty years ago, we had entertained a cautious partnership. At best we were allies; at worst he was in charge of the Persian prisons and I was his employer's favorite prisoner. Our association was most unfortunate.
"I don't have friends," I gruffly replied, wondering how the Daroga would have referred to me if asked the same question. He probably would have said I was cynical, stubborn, and persistent ass.
Julia frowned and pulled her hand away. "Then what do you have?" she asked rather pointedly.
My frustration had gotten the best of me. "I have you," I said hopefully.
Julia sucked in her bottom lip, the determination of a bulldog in her eyes. "What would happen if you did see someone? Someone you knew?" she asked, still fishing for answers I had no desire to divulge.
Between Meg, Madeline, and Julia, I was surrounded by vultures disguised as innocent women. They would pick away at me until I relented—and all three of them seemed to know how to irritate me.
"I'm not sure," I said at last.
"Then why are you so worried?" she questioned.
"Because that is my duty," I argued.
Nothing would happen to her or the children, I wanted to say. I would die to protect my family, to make certain my past didn't affect their lives. I sincerely doubted the Daroga would do harm to my family or to anyone else for that matter, I had not left Persia on the best of terms.
"You needn't worry," I said at last.
Julia searched my face, her eyes narrowed. "About what?" she asked firmly.
I frowned at her. "Anything at all," I answered vaguely.
"What about you?" she challenged. Her eyes locked on mine, mouth forming a frown. I knew there were no words that would settle her simmering anger.
"You needn't concern yourself," I said, keeping my voice low.
Julia's eyes widened, her brow arched. "Of course I must worry about you because I know full well you won't worry about yourself." She jabbed her finger at my chest, her voice quivering. "And do not tell me there is nothing to worry about, Erik."
"Let me be the one to worry, not you," I offered, hoping to finally console her.
"Why?" she asked, her voice almost frantic. "Why must you always be alone? Why do you act as though I shouldn't care? I married you to be with you no matter what."
"Because I am your husband and that is…that is my order," I said, though my voice lacked the conviction I had intended. To my own ears I sounded as though I sought her permission to speak.
Suddenly I felt as though I hadn't quite survived our first day as husband and wife.
"Your order?" Julia asked, tilting her head down as she stared at me. She remained stone-faced and waiting, her hand carefully placed on her hip and her posture rigid.
Seeing her stand before me, I felt as though I had somehow managed to dig an incredibly deep and unmercifully dank hole for myself. Looking at Julia then, seeing the disappointment and anger in her eyes, I knew I had failed at keeping her free of worry. The more I attempted to explain myself to her, the more I apparently insulted my new wife.
"You are a ridiculous man," Julia said with a shake of her head. All at once she relaxed and chuckled to herself. "Issuing orders," she scoffed. "If you had seen the look on your face just now."
"Julia, please," I snapped. "You and Lisette are my responsibility. I couldn't live with myself if anything harmed you, Lissy, or Alex. I couldn't live without you," I blurted out.
"Do you honestly think I would want to live without you?" she questioned.
I had never given her question much thought. When I didn't readily answer, she gave an exaggerated sigh. "I married you because I love you," she said, her gaze locked on mine. "And I want to share my life with you. Please don't keep secrets from me."
I didn't know how to answer Julia. How in the hell was I supposed to make her understand I loved her without making her think I was keeping secrets? The moment I looked away from her, she took my hand in hers. I risked a glance and saw she offered a reassuring smile.
"I would never forgive myself if anything happened to you or the children," I said at last. "All I want is to keep you safe."
"Erik, if you believe you have good reason to be concerned, please speak to Archie." Before I could protest, she held up her hand. "Quit acting so foolish," she warned. "He has never been and will never be a threat to you and you know this."
"I'm being cautious, not overly concerned," I pointed out.
"What in the world is the difference?" she asked, growing frustrated by my vague reply.
"The person I thought I saw was no friend of mine, but not an enemy either. We knew each other well a long time ago."
Julia paused. I could tell by the way she lowered her gaze that I had frightened her. "If there is any man in all of Paris able to help locate a mysterious person, it would be Archie. He has many connections, as you already know, and he would be honored to be of assistance. Why do you refuse help? Are you that stilted by your pride or is it pure foolishness?"
I didn't argue with her. If the person or persons I suspected were truly in Paris, then I had no doubt the Daroga—if he didn't personally accompany them—had given instructions to his twin cousins. I just didn't know what their instructions may have entailed or why. A decade had passed since I had seen Nadir and I had no idea why any of them would be searching for me still. Our ties had been fully cut long ago.
Those severed endings continued to haunt me, however. The sound of bells, the hidden chambers…puzzle boxes. So many facets of that brief time in my life still clung to the back of my mind.
"Are you listening?" Julia asked.
"Yes," I answered at once, suppressing a shiver. "I was just thinking."
"About?" she prompted as she crossed her arms and issued a disapproving look.
My heart sank and I frowned as I offered her a bit of truth. "Persia," I said at last.
