The Princess and the Phantom

Chapter 7: The Diamond Mines Again

It was an evening to remember. After happy, tumbling introductions to the entire family, Mrs. Carmichael had firmly ushered Sara into the dining room. Never had the Large Family known such delight as seeing the-little-girl-who-is-not-a-beggar sitting at their dining table, hungrily wolfing down soup, pausing to smile with bewildered joy at everyone.

When her bowl was empty, Sara looked almost wistfully at it, enjoying the extraordinary sensation of having something warm and filling in her. She happened to look up at the French Gentleman who sat across from her and saw that he was studying her quite intently with a gaze that made her heart skip a beat. In the bright light of the room, she saw that half his face was alarmingly handsome, while the other half was concealed beneath a white kid leather mask. She smiled shyly at him.

"I beg your pardon, sir," Sara said. "But, I'm afraid I have forgotten your name."

"That is because we were never introduced," he replied curtly.

Sara bit her lip, suddenly ill-at-ease.

"His name is Erik D'Arcy, and he's quite a prodigiously talented composer and musician when he's not being taciturn to charming young ladies," Mr. Carmichael said with a pleasant laugh.

She blushed and nodded her head to Erik, who barely inclined his in return.

"Tell me, Miss Crewe, do you remember that we met a very long time ago?" Donald said, turning to Sara. His boyish face was handsome and alight with tender emotion.

She smiled, and in reply, reached for something she wore around her neck and pulled it out of her bodice. It was a worn little sixpence on a frayed old ribbon. Donald was speechless and his expression ecstatic, prompting his father to cough loudly into his napkin to hide a shout of laughter.

"I have worn it all these years in memory of a little boy who was kind to me," Sara whispered. "Though, I will admit I was shocked to realize I looked so shabby and queer that must be taken for some kind of beggar. Yet, I found it meant the world to me that someone saw me that day and cared that I existed."

Donald ducked his head, so that his forehead and Sara's were almost touching. Reverently, he brushed the sixpence in her hand with his fingers.

"'I've seen you everyday since then, Miss Crewe," he said awkwardly, blushing richly.

"Please, everyone here must call me Sara."

"Sara..."

"I must be going." Erik's abrupt words accompanied his quickly standing up from the table and bowing to Mrs. Carmichael.

"But you must NOT be going, sir," Mrs. Carmichael replied merrily with a hint of motherly sternness. "We've not even begun the fish course, and cook has made a special dessert in your honor as our guest."

Erik's inscrutable gaze moved from Mrs. Carmichael to Sara, who smiled warmly at him, though she also looked somewhat puzzled.

The smile was his undoing. Something in it melted every single bit of ice in his heart. Her smile held no pity-abhorent emotion-nor did it conceal false compassion with a glazed look that sought to conceal fear at his strange appearance. Indeed, her eyes held friendly curiosity, yet, he felt that she might look upon all that she met with the same degree of interest. It made him feel alarmingly normal and nearly human.

"Please stay," Sara said, looking up at him pleadingly. "I did not mean to break up this dinner party, especially if it is in your honor."

Erik stood for a moment in the agony of indecision, but, he was spared both the pain of leaving and the humiliation of staying by the parlor maid entering and saying that Miss Minchin was there to see Mr. Carmichael.