Even the days after Ethan and Christiana returned to the mansion appeared, at least, peaceful. The servants received them kindly, Margaret had it in mind what could be done to make them comfortable, and Ethan was employed with the father of Sophia in regulating some of the properties. Christiana, shy as she was, was a warm sunshine in every corner she entered.
There was a tempest brewing beneath the smooth veneer.
Sophia had drawn back into silence, and her smiles were short, her presence spectral. But she did not give up--it was maneuvering.
One evening she sat in her room, with her window open, and the sound of the laughter of Christiana, outside, was brought in by the breeze. Then in a very strong and steady manner came the deep voice of Ethan, like a melody. Sophia's chest twisted. This laughing ought to have been hers. It ought to have been her voice.
She wheeled and went back to her desk, where parchments were scattered across. One of them was scribbled with hastily written words:
"They think love is enough. But I will make them remember what power really is.
Her mind was racing and she dipped the quill in the ink once more. She had known once that beauty and money could give her all. The thing was, she now knew, that power was not admiration, but control.
The first blow came on that night at dinner time.
Hm, said Sophia, with a slight piercing of her fork against her plate. Some people in society might not see the joy brought by Christiana.
With startled gaze Christiana looked up. The eyebrows of Ethan pulled in.
"What do you mean?" Margaret asked cautiously.
Sophia smiled sweetly and her eyes glittered. "People may whisper. Of some orphan girl at our table. About her taking possession of a place which was never hers.
Slapping his hand on the table, Ethan frowned. "Enough, Sophia. My home, my heart, my family, is Christiana. Should any one whisper, he whispers against me.
The air grew taut. The husband of Margaret cleared his throat and had to laugh, thus bringing the tension to an end but the pain of the words of Sophia remained. Christiana did not lose her composure, but her hands clenched her spoon.
On this particular night Christiana was sitting in her room alone, staring at the candle flame. Ethan came in unobtrusively, on his knees by her chair.
Hear not her words, he thought, and taking her hand. She is drowning in the bitterness of her own. We must not drown with her."
Christiana nodded gingerly, and her heart came back to right as he touched her. "I am not afraid, Ethan. But she... she will not stop."
Ethan slapped his forehead against hers. then we shall confront her both. Whatever storm she brings."
Sophia was standing outside listening in the corridor, her face pale in the moon. She shed tears briefly, which scalded her eyes. But she waved them aside, and substituted grief with iron determination.
Then together shall they fall, should they want to, together, she said to the shadows.
The following morning the word went like wildfire through town. Rumors of the life of Christiana--whistles and poisons, of how she had worked her way into the mansion, that she had wrought to have Ethan love her, she was just another opportunist.
Whispers were unwillingly borne by servants, merchants looked at her suspiciously and even guests at the mansion were glancing at her in a low-key manner when she was into the room.
Sophia was sitting at the piano and her fingers were dashing on the keys and smiling as the venom spread. She no longer had to fight with Christiana directly; the society would do it.
But Ethan was not blind. As he beheld the terror in the eyes of Christiana when she had ventured out of the town and heard the laughter upon the side of the town he felt his heart filled with fury.
The same evening, he came back to the mansion with his voice reverberating in the halls. "Sophia!"
She swiveled around slowly out of the piano, with a serene look.
Behind this is you, Ethan, sharp in his voice. You contaminate the air within her as you cannot help but to shine.
Sophia rose, her smile thin. "Careful, Ethan. Accusations are dangerous. And on top of all, maybe the world just sees what you do not want to see"
He clenched his fists, and Christiana walked in at this moment and put her hand on his arm. Her touch steadied him.
Fight not her with wrath, love, fight not with wrath, Christiana said to herself. "Let us fight her with truth."
Ethan stared at Christiana and then turned back at Sophia. His voice was low, and assured and steady. "Truth always wins, Sophia. And when it comes, you will be solitary.
The mask of Sophia failed her, the first time. She turned her head, concealing the electric shiver in her eyes.
The storm was just part of the first part.