Immortal Darkness (Phantom Diaries #3) (2 page)

Francoise gestured to the doorway and grinned. 

“I’m sorry.  You must think I’m just awful.”

“Nonsense. I was young once. I know the heart doesn’t always make things easy. Your jitters and desire to run off before Aaron makes his way down here are very understandable.” She looked at me with a knowing gaze. “It takes a strong woman to marry an Aragon…a woman who knows what it is to carry on the name, a woman who knows what it is to have to answer to duty…” She paused. “I admire you for recognizing this responsibility for someone so young. But you will make a fine Mrs. Aragon, no doubt.”

“Thank you,” I said softly, almost regretting my choice. Francoise was everything I dreamed of in a mother-in-law. She was understanding and we felt a bond, and an easy camaraderie. I glanced at my watch and pressed my lips together.

“Go, dear, go.”  She shooed me away with a cunning grin.  “Aaron can be testy at times when he first awakens and seeing the uncertainty that is so clearly written all over your face would probably not bode well.”

I stood, grateful for everything.

“I can have a car bring you to the airport.”

“Thank you, but that won’t be necessary.  A cab should already be waiting out front for me by now.”

With all the grace of a queen, she pushed back her chair and stood to face me, an appreciative grin on her lips.  “I admire your independence, ma chere.  Just another reason Aaron fell in love with you, I’m sure.”

My conflicting emotions collided. “I sincerely wish I could stay longer.” I brushed a final gentle kiss to her aging cheek.

“Perhaps next time,” she said with a wise wink.

I held her gaze for a moment and turned to leave before I changed my mind.  Entering the main hall I glanced up at the grand staircase; still clear; still no sign of Aaron.

With more force than necessary, I grabbed my suitcase and hurried to the door just as the gentle tapping of footsteps sounded.

No, I silently mouthed.  I’m so close to making it out.

The footsteps stopped and my breath halted with trepidation.

“Bonjour Mademoiselle et bon retour.”

The feminine voice brought a smile to my tightly pursed lips.  I turned to face one of the many young staff members who’d made my stay at the Aragon estate so appealing.

“Bonjour et merci.”

Before another surprise came bounding down the steps I opened the door and shot out, breathing in the fresh air with relief the very moment the door shut behind me.

The cab was there, just as expected.  Eric had assured me he’d take care of our return to New York and I now wondered if I would find him sitting in that cab.  It would be inappropriate, us leaving together.  All we needed was for someone to spot us in the same cab and a scandal would quickly erupt.  Francoise didn’t deserve that, nor did Aaron.

Despite all those proper thoughts and admirable respect for others’ feelings, a little part of me secretly hoped Eric would be in that cab. I longed for his shoulder to lean on, for his strength.  I needed his presence to remind me just how right I was to leave here; to turn Aaron down.

I opened the back door to find an empty seat.

“Just as well,” I muttered as I shoved my suitcase onto the seat and got in.

“Pardon?” the startled driver said.

“Aeroport, s’il vous plait.”

The car rumbled to life and he pulled out of the lengthy Aragon drive.  The beauty of the estate faded away behind me as did the countryside and the last remnants of guilt I felt for running away from Aaron.

I was doing the right thing.  Regardless of all Aaron had done for me, in my heart, I knew it was the right thing.  I wasn’t ready and wouldn’t make him a good wife, not now.

As I physically ran from one man, my thoughts ran to another; Eric. I was surprised by the intensity of longing I felt for him.  So much had happened and we had so much to talk about.

I turned to stare out the window as tears welled inexplicably in my eyes.  Why was this so hard?  I knew Aaron was a good man.  I knew he’d make a wonderful and attentive husband, yet… And Eric… all I knew was how I wanted to be with him, to be near him.  It was irrational, but it was there, too strong to deny.

The airport came into view and my heart rate increased at the mere thought of seeing him. He’d said we’d take the same flight back.  I saw us, sitting side by side, our elbows brushing against one another’s as we discussed our time in Paris… and our future.

I was getting ahead of myself again and I knew it.  My full attention should be on the direction the cab took.

“I’ll get off at the main entrance, please.”

He maintained the path he’d taken.  “I was told to bring you to the gate leading to hangar eight.”

“By Eric?” I whispered to myself.  What was he up to? I smiled, delighted by the prospect of a surprise.

After passing through customs, we pulled up to the hangar a few minutes later and the car stopped at the nose of an exquisitely elegant aircraft.  Eric stepped out of the hangar and came to open my door.

“I thought we were taking a commercial flight back to New York.”

He took me by the hand and helped me out then grabbed my suitcase.  “Too crowded for my liking. I think we both need a reprieve after such a tumultuous trip.”

I looked at him, once again amazed at how well he read me; my thoughts, my feelings. Being alone with him was more than I’d even dared hope for.

We boarded the plane and I was immediately taken in by the opulence and luxury. 

“This is a beautiful plane, Eric.”

“I wanted you to be comfortable on your flight.  I fear the stress and strain of the past days may settle in and affect your health.  I would hate to see you return to the Opera House with the strain of this trip evident in your voice.”

I turned to him with a teasing grin. “Okay, this is all to preserve my voice and has nothing to do with me.”

Bringing his fingers to my cheek, he leaned in close, his eyes intense with emotion. “You know me better than that.”

We settled in and before long we were soaring through the air. My troubles with Aaron and Kristine faded and became insignificant.

“I can’t believe you went to all this trouble.”  The leather seats were more comfortable than any first class seat with any commercial airline.

“And with the plane all to ourselves, we can relax and be ourselves.” He reached for my hand.  “I’ve also arranged to have an excellent meal prepared, so I hope you’re hungry.”

I thought of my few sips of coffee hours earlier. “Despite my delay this morning, I skipped breakfast and didn’t even have time to think of lunch, so, yes, I’m famished.”

With a subtle wave of his hand, he caught the attention of the young steward standing at a discreet distance. “David, please tell Chef Gerard we’ll have dinner early.”  He turned to me.  “He has promised a meal to fill your senses and leave you with a true appreciation for fine French cuisine.”

“I have no doubt I’ll love it.”

He pressed his lips tightly together and gazed past me to look out the window. “For a brief moment, as I awaited your arrival, I feared you’d changed your mind.  While I anticipated a slight delay at Customs, I hadn’t taken into account the possibility you’d be retained at the Aragon household.”

“Neither had I,” I said reassuringly, though I caught the immediate crease of his brow as he brought his quizzical eyes back to me.

“Aaron?” he asked.

“No, Francoise.  She’s been nothing but kind and generous and I couldn’t bring myself to just run out like a thief in the night.”

“It could have been so easy for her to try to convince you to stay, to convince you to consider Aaron’s proposal.”

“She’s wiser than that.”  While I praised her great understanding of my actions, my thoughts caught on her last words.

“And she’s certainly smart enough to realize how your conflicting emotions may come to affect your future performances.”

I pursed my lips into a doubtful grin.  Could Francoise be that cunning?  To avoid a confrontation simply to avoid a bad performance on my part?  I wasn’t really willing to believe that of her.

“Do you feel prepared to get back to the stage?”

“More than ever.  I think my time in Paris, my time away from New York and the Opera House has made me all the more appreciative of what great luck I have to be a part of such a great cast.”

He squeezed my fingers.  “You are adorable.  Your humility and modesty never cease to amaze me.”

My gaze drifted to the window and I looked out at the immensity of the clear blue sky that went on for an eternity.

It wasn’t mere humility that kept me from seeing myself as the star of the show; the focal point of the opera.  Despite all the praise and adulation, a little part of me, perhaps small and insignificant, but persistent, returned all too often to remind me that I didn’t really deserve it all. I’d just been at the right place at the right time.

Eric’s soft fingers over mine brought my attention back to him.  “You have a natural and raw talent, Annette.”

“I simply inherited the voice I have,” I said simply.

“Many are born with a natural talent, but few work to bring that talent to its full potential. I’ve watched you work, Annette, remember?  I’ve seen the hours of practice, of vocal exercises, of rehearsals.  Don’t kid yourself.  The fact that you hold such an important role is not a simple matter of luck.  You’ve worked hard to merit every word of praise you receive.”

“You’re sweet,” I said.

He shook his head.  “I’m honest.”

“Sir,” David said as he made a quiet approach.  “Dinner should be ready within thirty minutes, but Chef Gerard invites you to tempt your taste buds with an appetizer.  If you’ll take your seats at the dining table, I’ll bring them out.”

“We’ll be right there.”  Eric turned to me once David left.  “Chef Gerard has a magic touch when it comes to his pastry hors d’ouevres.”

He led me toward the back of the plane and into a sumptuous and elegant dining room that could have rivaled the finest five star restaurant.  The table, draped in black, was set for two with elegant stemware and gleaming silver.  Three tall candles offered a soft glow of light in the otherwise dimly lit room while the delicate strings of a single violin filled the air.

Like a true gentleman of yore, Eric pulled back my chair and waited for me to sit down before taking his own seat.  “I want this flight home to be a restoration of the Annette who first left New York,” he said.  “It is my goal to pamper you in every way possible.”

“So I see.  I’d say so far you’ve succeeded.”

As we tasted the chef’s tantalizing appetizers and then gorged ourselves on a feast of braised duck, steamed snow peas and glazed carrots, Eric steered the conversation to all that was trivial, comical and amusing; everything but Paris, Aaron and the troubles we’d left behind.

I knew he had to have lingering questions about my relationship with Aaron, about my thoughts of his proposal, about my emotions, my confusion and my intentions…and I appreciated all the more the respect and space he offered with regards to it all.

As our empty plates were cleared away and a delectable dessert of simple white cake with raspberry filling was brought out, Eric turned the conversation to the evening to come.

“No doubt you’re fatigued, and about to experience jet lag, so I opted for an aromatic and soothing herbal tea instead of coffee for you. I hope you don’t mind.”  He reached for the teapot and poured some of the steaming liquid into our cups.