Unmasked Read Online Free Page B

confidence. But his desperation to be
loved touched something within me. The kiss was mine to give, and I
chose to give it to him.
    He blinked at me, amazement swimming in his
eyes. His fingertips touched the spot that I had kissed, as if it
had been his real cheek that had sensed it.
    I looked into the eyes behind the mask.
“There are none so capable of loving as we who are never
loved.”
    He tried to respond, but no sound came out.
He took my hand in his, and bowing his head, placed a tender kiss
upon it. He turned away slowly, and disappeared into the
darkness.
     
    Even if I had known the way out of this
labyrinth he called his "palace," I would not have left. There were
no clocks of any kind here, so I did not know what time it was, or
even whether it was day or night. Erik was long in returning, and
the food still warm in my belly filled me with a delicious
drowsiness I found difficult to resist. I lay my head upon the arm
of the settee, and soon I was fast asleep.
    I awoke to the strains of the most beautiful
music I had ever heard. I recognized it to be coming from a violin,
and it seemed to be resonating from the very walls. The tune was
melancholic, but sweet and hopeful. I rose, and something shook
from my dress. I noticed that my dress was covered in flowers. The
colorful petals of roses, lavender, and violets were strewn all
about me like a thick floral blanket, and their heady fragrances
rose up to meet me. Blossoms of red poppy – the flower of
consolation, I noted – were tucked into my hair. I smiled as I
thought of Erik, and stood up to find him.
    The music was strangely hypnotizing, up then
down, trilling then moaning, magnetic then frightening, but always
irresistible. I followed the sound through a series of corridors to
a cavernous, well-appointed chamber. Erik was there, his back
turned to me. He stood in the center of the room, swaying to and
fro, carried by the lovely melody that floated from the instrument
on his shoulder. I was about to call out to him, but I too was
mesmerized by the magic of the violin.
    When the last note faded, I spoke his name.
He stiffened, then bent low and picked something up off the floor.
It was his mask, and I was surprised I had not seen it before. He
tied it around his head, and then turned to face me.
    I was disappointed to be denied the sight of
his face. "The music...it was breathtaking. What is it called?"
    He smiled. “I have just created it. I call it
‘Paulette’.”
    I blushed hotly. “Why?”
    “I have not written a single note since…since
long ago. The wellspring of my music has been dry these many years.
I did not know that there was yet another song in me waiting to be
born. Until you came along.”
    A curious elation welled up in me, and it
warmed me in places that felt new. Flowers, music…these were
tributes offered to other women, beautiful women. This man offered
them to me, and for an exhilarating moment, I allowed myself to
secretly believe that I numbered among those women. I hoped he
could not see the pleasure that he gave me.
    He seemed to struggle with his next words, as
if he was gathering the courage to say something. “I would have you
stay with me, if it pleases you.”
    I did not know what to say. Surely it was out
of the question to stay here, in this place, with this man…was it
not?
    “This room…it is the finest I have. I came to
consecrate it with my music, and now, it is yours, if you desire
it."
    My head began to swim. It was unthinkable.
Grand-mère would be aghast. What would Society say about an
unmarried woman staying in the house of a gentleman? And yet, I
reasoned, this was no house. And that was no gentleman. And Society
had snubbed us both long ago.
    Unbidden thoughts came then, about what might
happen between us here, in this world of permissive darkness.
Thoughts of him kissing my hand again, his soft lips brushing the
inside of my wrist, whispering above the surface of my neck,
caressing my heated lips.