Beneath the Porcelain Mask

31. What Answer Can I Give?

I'd been sulking in my room for ten minutes before someone rapped upon the door. Screwing my face up, I buried it in the pillow I was clutching.

"Whoever it is, go away!"

The door creaked opened anyhow. "Room service!"

I glared over the top of the fabric as they stuck their head in, scanning the room. When a pair of emerald eyes found me against the wall, a small smile graced the intruder's lips.

"Would you like your sheets doing, Mademoiselle? Your pillows plumping? Mantel dusting? Spoon feeding?"

"What are you playing at, Jeremy?" I sighed, lowering the pillow to watch as he stepped into my room and closed the door behind him. His eyes widened in mock horror and he raised a hand to his chest.

"I am but a humble cleaner!" he said, kicking the spare broom I kept by the door into his hand. "Madame Leroy!"

He chased the brush around my room, whistling loudly and quite off key. Despite my cringing, I smiled.

"Well, Madame Leroy," I said, sticking my leg out as he hurried past me and stopping the brush in its path. "Please find my fiancé and ask him to attend to his bride."

He pouted. "Do you need a hug?"

"Perhaps."

The brush clattered to the ground. Jeremy dropped to his knees beside me, wrapping me up in his arms. I pressed my face into his neck, breathing the dry smell of his dusty hair and closing my eyes. He rubbed my back, his other hand unknotting my hair gently.

"What's wrong?" he whispered. "The Phantom?"

I shook my head. "No, it's just... it was what you said about Julianna."

"Julianna?"

"You still love her, don't you?"

He pulled back with a frown. "I loved her. Why? Are you worried I might love her more than you? Is that what this is about?"

"I'm sorry! Your guess is as good as mine." I stared at my lap. "I suppose I'm... perhaps I'm slightly jealous. You speak of her sometimes as if she were a queen; how am I supposed to compete with that?"

"I don't want you to compete with her." His hand found my cheek and as he looked into my eyes, his own shrouded with a heavy, dark worry, or perhaps a fear of where I might bring the conversation if he didn't stop me soon enough. "I didn't fall in love with you because you were the best substitute at the time; I fell in love with you because you're you. Is that so hard to understand?"

My hand moved to cover his. "You haven't even seen my face."

"You never gave me the chance. Why is that, Nikki? Are you so afraid of my reaction?"

I choked on a breath and gripped his waistcoat. Jeremy wrapped his arms around me again, shushing and rocking me like a babe.

"You are a good man, Jeremy," I whispered in his ear. "Perhaps the kindest I've ever met. But still, you are a man. I shouldn't expect much more from you."

"Nikki." He held me tighter and smoothed some of the wild waves of my hair down behind my ear. "Please. Why must it be like this?"

"Because I have no face, I have only..." I hesitated, searching for the right word. "I have only the semblance of a face. It was burned to cinders during the house fire. You can do better than that, Jeremy, find a bride more worthy of you."

"And yet you're wearing my mother's wedding ring on your finger." When I didn't lift my gaze from the floor, he lifted my hand and tilted it until rainbows fell against my dress. I watched as they danced over the folds in the fabric. They flickered out suddenly, and the soft touch of Jeremy's lips on my fingers finally lifted my eyes. When he straightened and found me staring at him, he smiled softly, just the edges of his lips lifting. "Did you think I wouldn't notice? Please, Nikki. You have my word; nothing can change my mind."