A New Beginning

Disclaimer: Please see the Prologue.

A New Beginning
Chapter 9
Parlor


It was suitable that the first evening they were to sit together to examine blueprints and sketches began as dreary as it ended. Rain pelted the windows in clumps, thwack, thwack, thwack, as the wind whistled through the old oak tree just outside the library window.

Madison waited impatiently as the architect organized paper, ink, and candles. The dark, pendulous clouds blocked out all traces of the sun making candlelight necessary this early in the evening.

She watched him as he struck the match against the table, a yellow flame bursting to life for a few short seconds; he lit the candles one-by-one, three in all so that there were no shadows on the table’s surface.

It was such an intimate thing to watch, the graceful turn of his wrist as he shook the match to distinguish it. She followed the line of his arm up his shoulder until her gaze settled on the unmasked portion of his face.

He eyed her warily before reaching for the first parchment, unrolling it carefully. She turned her attention to the drawing, studying it intently.

Overall the rudimentary drawing was ornate, flowery, and completely wrong for Madison.

She studied it anyways, looked at the dimensions and pillars. There were two stories containing four bedrooms, three water closets, two dining rooms, the obligatory kitchen, one solarium, three parlors, and one pathetically small library.

After she was sure that she had looked over every inch of the design she raised her eyes to his, “What on Earth would I do with three parlors? You really must be joking.”

He looked at her with curiosity.

She continued, “I know that I have avoided you as if you carry the plague, but really, you must have learned something of me by now. You simply cannot be dense enough to believe that this ostentatious house would suit me.”

He studied her openly, eyes widening slightly with mirth, the corner of his mouth rising in mischief, “is that so…” he murmured gravelly.

She paused, straightening her back as she looked away uncomfortably. Madison had never really noticed his voice before, the thick French accent magnified by his rich tenor voice. It had a way of lowering inhibitions, making her stomach flip and things much lower twitch. A slight blush stained her cheeks as they locked eyes.

She had never really studied him before, excluding quick, stolen glances, yet she found herself lost in his eyes. Madison decided that they were the color of ripe wheat and warm gold with just the barest flecks of brown and green, cat’s eyes that no human should ever posses. They unsettled and amazed her as she compared them to her own hazel eyes.

His head lowered slightly as if to grant her a better view, like a proud king obliging a peasant with one last look at his magnificent presence before the commoner was dismissed. Madison noticed how close their knees had drifted towards each other and raised her head slightly as she chewed her bottom lip in absent contemplation.

“It won’t do at all?” he asked smoothly. She startled, eyes snapping up to his eyes from where they had drifted to his plush mouth. “What?” She asked absentmindedly. “You were saying that these plans won’t do.”

She mistook the mirth in his eyes and voice as secret ridicule and pursed her lips together. “No,” she said while leaning away from him, “it won’t.” Madison pushed her chair back from the desk and rose to her feet haughtily, “I suggest, Architect, that you begin by turning one of the larger parlors into a better library, that is unless you find women all together too incompetent to appreciate the written word?”

Erik kept his face under control as he fumed at her abrupt mood swing and condescending tone, “Mademoiselle, it has been my observation that most young females would more enjoy the company of seamstresses and gossips than philosophers and poet.”

Madison seethed, infuriated that he would assume her to be like the other girls at finishing school, girls that would rather embroider roses and talk about the latest young man than discuss more worthwhile topics such as Shakespeare or the effects of the late President Grant’s effect on New York.

“You are mistaken, sir” she ground out between clenched teeth. Taking calming breaths she unclenched her fists and decided against smashing his nose with her fist like the stableman Robert had taught her. After she had collected herself she continued coolly, “Perhaps we should continue another day? I suddenly find my self sick to the stomach. It must have been something I ate.” Madison smiled sweetly.

“Perhaps that would be wise. Tomorrow after the evening meal then, I trust that your constitution will have improved by then?” Erik asked calmly. Madison’s sweet smile was ruined by her clenched jaw as she bid him goodnight and exited the room in a swish of angry skirts.

He watched her leave, both delighted and wary of her obvious temper. His first assumption that she would be a simpering miss had been summarily dismissed and proven time and time again as she sparred with him verbally. He leaned back in his chair as he lazily looked at the rough sketches from a previous job and wondered how upset she would be if she found out that he had not even bothered to create a new design in the two weeks that he had resided here.

Erik smiled lazily as he pictured her angry countenance. She was truly at her most beautiful when she was infuriated. Luckily for him it was an often occurrence.


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Author’s Note
I would like to extend a huge thank you to everyone that is still reading and reviewing and to everyone that has added my story onto their favorites/update reminder list. This story is almost half-way there, the furthest I have ever gotten in a fan fiction that I post on-line. So terribly sorry that it took so long, school’s been a bitch. Between papers, art projects, assignments, tests, and running around for my sorority finding an hour to myself has been very hard.

It’s also going to take some time since I research things and try to keep it as historically accurate as possible. Some interesting things I learned about matches while preparing for this chapter:

1. Matches were invented in 1827 by John Walker
2. It wasn’t until 1855 until they were widely used because they were expensive and toxic (white phosphorous). This changed when Johan Edvard re-vamped the formula using red phosphorous instead making it safe.
3. The matchbook was created in 1889 by Joshua Pusey who later sold his patent to the Diamond Match Company for $4,000.00