Spanish Angel (Phantom of the Opera)

Chapter 15

Chapter 15:

As he plodded home through the bustling streets of Paris, thick with grime, Nadir pondered again on the odd pair living beneath the Opera House. Mostly though, his mind remained on Candela. Their first meeting had been at knife-point not quite a year back. His mind's eye remembered well the vivacity for life that had glowed from her every pore.

She had been a girl who took the reins of her own life by the teeth.

Yet, now she conformed. Proper hair styles as opposed to letting it be free. Corsets and formal dresses instead of her usually odd things. Quiet conversation and small talk masking her regular spirited self.

The Marquis knew nothing of the girl was courting.

And, at this, Nadir began to wonder if Candela did either.

A half a year was a long enough time for someone to forget who they were when in pursuit of something. The maid desired a better future than a spinster who would one day be turned from her home because of the death of her benefactor. Perhaps she might have amassed a small fortune but what was a woman like her to do with her life?

Marriage had seemed the logical option to everything.

Marriage to a marquis, the perfect option.

Pausing before a jewelry shop, he peered through the darkened glass at the variety of rings displayed therein. His eyes grew misty as he remembered his lovely Rookheeya, an arranged marriage that had worked. Such a short love story theirs had been.

"Would Candela be happy? She isn't Rookheeya." A chuckle and a tear escaped him as he continued his way home, unsure of how to sort his muddled brain. Perhaps a long talk by the fire with Darius would clear it.

E-OC

"Do you think your cousin will like me?" Candela inquired quietly, smoothing her skirts and calming her fidgeting to appear more proper.

"She will love you." The Marquis leaned closer to her and grasped her lace-gloved hands. "You and she will get along well. I hope you don't mind children? She likes to keep him close to her."

"Not a problem. I like children." Her eyes shifted off the Marquis's searching ones and drifted to glance out the window. Children of the servants had, with only a few exceptions, been a rowdy group, uncontrollable even by their own parents. As for the few noble children that she had met, they were pompous miniatures of their own families.

Yet, she would remain hopeful that this little duke would prove neither of her opinions true.

As the carriage rolled to a stop before the mansion, the driver jumped down and aided the pair of them out, bowing low to them both. The Marquis waved him away and led her towards the door, smiling the whole way and chattering about his cousin. If anything, Candela found herself glad he was filling the silence. With every step towards her former location of employment, her stomach grew colder, chilling her to the bone far more than the winter wind ever could.

The doors swept open and they glided through, servants whisking away their coats and hats the moment they stepped into the warm hallway. The footman and the butler both eyed the Spaniard suspiciously but said not a word. The maid supposed that her skin was paler from a year beneath the earth and her cheeks were fuller from healthy eating.

Her appearance had altered drastically.

Besides, she had never been acquainted with the butler.

Before they even had a chance to move into the sitting room to warm themselves further by the fire, a whoosh of red shirts appear at the head of the stairs and scampered down them, two at a time.