Dante had thought his logic sound when they left the house, but once they were on their way to the gallery, he found himself plagued with doubts. Even the clear view of other cars in the fading sunlight could not distract him.
It had not escaped his notice that Elsa was in a similar state of mind. She was practically wringing her hands as she stared out the window and chewed on her lower lip. He longed to tell her that everything would be fine, but in honesty, he was uncertain.
Uncertain and uncomfortable.
The mask Jazz had provided was made from some sort of clay. It was quite heavier than he was accustomed and was not fitted to the contours of his face like the porcelain versions he had crafted. Already, he looked forward to returning to Elsa’s home, where a mask would not be required.
The car stopped in front of a row of shops and buildings nestled so close, there was barely telling where one began and the next ended. Only the color of the bricks and the architectural accents on the upper stories differentiated them.
On the ground level, the walls were made of glass and metal, allowing passersby to see right into the storefronts. Jazz Gallery was emblazoned in red lettering above an open door. Dante could hear faint music from within the gallery.
When the driver opened the car door, Dante exited first, then reached down to help Elsa step onto the sidewalk. She was truly a vision.
The burnished gold of her dress made her hair shine like pale honey. Her eyes fairly glowed. For a moment, he simply stood on the sidewalk, mesmerized by her.
She lifted a hand to her face and touched her cheek, the gesture oddly reminiscent of how he checked the positioning of his mask. “Is everything okay? You’re staring.”
“I am riveted. There is a difference.”
The blush that came to her face buoyed his confidence. Pulling her hand through his elbow again, he led her inside.
The press of bodies was oppressive, especially compared with their quiet existence at Elsa’s manor. Dozens of people filled the rooms beyond the foyer, milling about and looking at the art upon the walls or gathering in clusters to converse.
Elsa clung to Dante, staring at everyone as if they were an angry mob merely awaiting a target. He knew she was not just worried for him. If people questioned him about his origins and his answers were anachronistic, her secret would be at risk.
The artwork was another danger. They were contemporary, but Dante’s first painting had been enough to trigger her ability outside of her control.
He had not truly considered that before and chided himself for his oversight. His resolve to protect her grew. He slid his arm around her waist as he pulled her closer and walked deeper into the throng.
The central room held no art, but was dominated by an open area being used by several couples for a waltz. Everyone was dressed in costumes that spanned the history Dante knew and some he did not. He and Elsa were hardly the most outlandish couple. There was a pair dressed as Marcus Antonius and Cleopatra.
Dante paused as he realized he thought of himself and Elsa as a couple. He wondered if perhaps she felt the same, with the way she pressed herself ever closer into his embrace. It was becoming easier to believe that there was more to their relationship than friendship.
“You made it!” Jazz navigated the crowd to reach them, wrapped her arms around Elsa’s shoulders and gave her a kiss on the cheek. Dante was rather surprised when Jazz greeted him in the same manner.
She was dressed as some sort of sailor, he thought, with a ruffled white shirt under a deep red jacket. A matching bandana was tied over her dark hair. Her leggings were tan, though most of her legs were covered in high black boots adorned with many buckles.
“I have so many people I want to introduce you to.”
Elsa sighed. “Isn’t it enough that we’re here?”
“It’s great that you’re here, but you hardly ever come out, so I have to show you off when I have the chance. Plus, I want Dante to meet everyone.”
A server passed with a tray of tall flute glasses filled with gold liquid and chopped berries. Jazz grabbed a pair and handed one to Dante. Rather than give the other to Elsa, Jazz took a sip herself. Dante offered his glass to Elsa, but she shook her head.
Jazz clicked her tongue at Dante. “See, if you two went out more, you’d know that Elsa doesn’t drink.”
“It’s okay,” Elsa said. “Go ahead.”
Dante would need to ask later if there was some reason for her abstinence. There was no time at the moment, as Jazz led them through the room. Elsa clutched Dante’s hand and cast a nervous glance at him. He forced himself to smile, hoping to ease her nerves.
Jazz had not been exaggerating about the number of people she wanted them to meet. Faces, masked and otherwise, blurred together until at last a pair that were familiar neared them.
Rachel waved, though it was hardly necessary. Both she and Garrett were quite tall. Dante easily saw them through the crowd, even without the people stepping aside as they approached.
Rachel’s gown was such a pale blue it was nearly white, with full skirts offset by a corset that seemed tied a bit too tight. Her hair was piled in curls atop her head in an overly intricate manner.
With the gloves she wore and the fan she carried, Dante was reminded a bit too much of his own time. He was glad at least that Elsa’s dress was more understated. Dancing with Elsa would be much easier with the slenderness of her skirts. He would be able to hold her close.
Garrett trailed after Rachel, wearing a dark suit and crisp white shirt with a small black tie at his neck. He nodded curtly, but said nothing.
Rachel let out a delighted squeal when she reached them. “Oh my God! You guys look great!”
“Where’s your new boyfriend?” There was an edge to Elsa’s voice, the strain of the evening no doubt showing through.
“He couldn’t make it, but Garrett was nice enough to be my date.”
“That’s me,” Garrett said, his hands in his pockets. “Mr. Nice Guy.”
“Doctor Nice Guy.” Rachel patted Garrett’s arm. “My mother would be so proud.”
“Elsa tells me that I have you to thank for the exquisite dress she is wearing tonight,” Dante said.
“You caught me.” Rachel was smiling, but it did not quite reach her eyes. In fact, there was a haunted look to them, as if something was upsetting her. She grabbed Dante’s elbow and pulled him toward the dance floor. “We have to have a dance.”
Elsa stiffened, but then she released Dante’s arm. “You should go.”
“Don’t worry.” Garrett stepped forward, a polite smile etched on his face. “I’ll keep Elsa company.”
Dante did not want to dance with Rachel. He wanted to dance with Elsa. But she had already backed away, Garrett following. There was nothing for Dante to do but allow Rachel to usher him onto the dance floor.
The waltz was simple enough that he could proceed through the motions without concentrating overmuch. This was good, because he was preoccupied with thoughts of Elsa. Being taller than most of the crowd himself, he could keep her in his sight as he and Rachel danced. Garrett and Elsa appeared to be having a heated discussion. Dante could only see Garrett’s face, but he looked upset. Garrett shook his head and walked away, leaving Elsa alone.
The crowd parted as he left, and Dante caught a glimpse of her. Her gaze met Dante’s briefly, and he was uncertain if the longing he detected was her own, or a projection of his feelings upon her. The crowd shifted and he lost sight of her again.
“It’s really great that you’re helping Elsa with her book,” Rachel said. “And you’re so into the part. Have you been acting for long?”
With chagrin, Dante realized that Rachel had been speaking for quite some time, but he had not been paying attention. Only at the very end, when she asked her question, had he recognized that she was addressing him.
“I am not an actor.”
“Oh come on. You have this character down so perfectly. Are you a specialist that only plays the Phantom? I’ve heard of that before.”
She laughed, a high pitch to the sound that hinted strangely at hysteria. It was enough to call Dante’s full attention to her. The lines of strain around her eyes had deepened.
“Is everything all right?”
“Of course it is.” Rachel gave another shrill laugh. “It’s just that I have a wager going on about whether you’re a method actor or not.”
“I do not know what you mean.”
“You know.” She looked pointedly at Dante’s mask. “I bet you have makeup on under there. To fully embody the essence of the Phantom.”
“I assure you, that is not the case.” Dante bristled despite his concerns for her.
“Come on. I can see it around the edges of your mask.”
As much as Dante wanted to help Rachel with whatever challenge she faced, he was finding their conversation intolerable. He ceased the waltz and said, “If you would excuse me. I believe I will take my leave of you now.”
Rachel looked stricken for a moment, and then she lashed out, grabbing Dante’s mask and tearing it from his face. Her grip was precarious, and it slipped from her fingers.
The brittle clay shattered as it hit the floor. Rachel was so intent upon him, she barely seemed to notice.
Gasps and whispers spread out from the two of them like ripples from a pebble dropped in still water. One by one, all of the people around them stopped and turned to stare at him. And first among them was Rachel.
“See! I told you,” she said.
Dante was too stunned to step back as she reached out and touched his face. A troubled look crossed her gaze, her fingers exploring the raised, rough flesh. The confusion was soon replaced with shock and then horror. Rachel snatched her hand back—yet another misguided soul who thought scars could be transferred by touch.
He waited for the rest. The repulsion. The screams. But they never came. All he could hear were whispers from the crowd around them.
“Oh my God, Dante,” Rachel said. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.”
Tears welled in her eyes, quickly spilling down her cheeks. She dropped to the floor and gathered the pieces of his mask in her trembling hands. Dante cleared his throat, trying to find his voice. When he did, it was rough and tight.
“Leave it.”
“But your mask… I broke it.” A sob escaped her, her breath uneven and her tears continuing to flow.
He knelt beside her, ignoring the stares of the surrounding crowd, and placed his arm over her shoulder. “I can always get another. But you must not try to gather these pieces when you are so distressed. You might hurt yourself.”
Dante pulled out his handkerchief and gave it to her. Rather than using it for herself, she opened it on the floor and started placing the pieces of his mask within. He assisted, eager to end the scene the incident had created.
When the pieces had been collected, he tied the corners of the cloth together and placed the bundle in his pocket. He helped Rachel to her feet as he stood and was shocked when she leaned against his side and wrapped her arm around his waist.
She looked up at him, and Dante saw no hint of discomfort or repulsion in her gaze. Only regret.
Elsa and Jazz appeared among the crowd surrounding them. Garrett was standing nearby. Dante did not know how long Garrett had been there.
“Dante, are you all right?” Elsa looked at the scars on his face for what seemed the first time. Her jaw went slack, but then she snapped her mouth shut and turned to Rachel.
“I didn’t mean to.” Rachel shrank away from the intensity of Elsa’s stare.
“What did you do, Rachel?” Elsa’s tone was cold and level, the calm before a gathering storm.
“It was an accident.” Dante wrapped his arm around Rachel’s shoulders. “She did nothing wrong.”
Elsa blinked and jerked her head back as if she had been slapped. Her gaze lingered on Dante’s hand resting upon Rachel’s arm.
“It was my fault.” Rachel’s breath came in gulps, her eyes filling with tears once more. “I thought he was just playing a part, you know? Helping you with your—”
Elsa did not allow Rachel to finish her sentence. “You pulled off his mask, didn’t you?”
Rachel nodded. She squeezed Dante’s waist tightly, and he pulled her closer.
The storm broke, but it was not a blizzard. Flames of rage sprang to life in Elsa’s eyes. “Of all the inconsiderate, impulsive acts you’ve done, this has to be—”
“An accident.” Dante summoned his most commanding tone as he cut in. “Rachel had no idea of my disfigurement. You could hardly expect her not to be curious as to what lay beneath my mask.”
“But I can expect her to respect your personal boundaries,” Elsa said, that fire now directed at him. He did not shrink away from it.
“It is I who decide my own boundaries. And it is I who have the right to offer forgiveness, which I most certainly do.”
Elsa’s eyes flashed with anger, but she held her tongue. Beside her, Jazz was smiling, as if this spectacle amused her. The thought irked Dante as much as anything else from the evening.
Was this the introduction that Jazz had planned for him? If so, he would most certainly have words for her. To start, he wanted to know if she was the one who had put Rachel up to this. He had seen enough manipulation in the theatre to know when someone had been goaded into action.
In the meantime, Dante found himself at the center of too much attention. A few people turned away when he met their gazes, lips curling in distaste, but most simply seemed curious. Many had already moved on from the matter, going about their own business.
There were whispers and stares, but no screams, no pointing. There was no fear.
Jazz raised her arms over her head and clapped loudly. “Okay, everybody. This isn’t performance art. This is a dance. Get back to it and cut the gawking.”
She cast one final grin toward him, then whispered something in Elsa’s ear. Elsa’s eyes widened for a moment before she turned to glare daggers at Jazz as she walked away.
Dante wanted to retreat, to cover his face and find the nearest shadow where he could hide and get his bearings. But that would be letting himself be cowed by the few lingering stares still cast his way.
This was a new world, and he would be a new man in it—a man who was not ashamed or afraid to show his face.
“Are you okay?” Garrett was standing just behind Dante, and he started at hearing Garrett’s voice so close.
“Yes, I am fine.”
Garrett rewarded Dante with a smile and even briefly placed his hand on Dante’s shoulder. Looking to Rachel, Garrett said, “I’ll be in the back showroom when you’re ready to leave.”
“Thanks.” Rachel sniffled loudly as Garrett left the dwindling group. She smiled up at Dante. “Jazz is the boss. Can we finish our dance?”
“Of course.”
Elsa’s head whipped back toward Dante and, for a moment, she looked stricken. He could see her pushing away whatever was paining her, just as she shoved away her fear when Winston had fallen.
This time, her expression became completely blank. No fire, no ice, no warmth. No Elsa.
In that moment, Dante felt that she was more distant than when decades stood between them. She turned away, quickly disappearing through the crowd.
Rachel stepped in front of him, lifting his hand in hers as she pulled them into the dance again. The waltz could not end quickly enough. He kept staring out over the crowd, no longer caring at all that he was without a mask. He only wanted to catch a glimpse of Elsa.
“I really am sorry,” Rachel said, drawing him back to his present company. “I had no idea.”
“And I truly forgive you.” Dante managed to glance at Rachel for long enough to smile at her. Her eyes were red-rimmed, the forget-me-not blue of her irises shining brightly from the contrast.
“How did it happen?” Her voice was soft and timid.
He considered how to respond to her inquiry and found he could not malign his brother. Finally, he settled on saying, “A much more unfortunate accident.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It was a long time ago.” How very long indeed.
“Is Garrett your doctor?”
“I suppose you could say so.”
“He’s a great doctor. I didn’t know he did plastic surgery, though.”
“How would one perform surgery on plastic?” Dante had researched the material after it came up so often in his other reading.
Rachel gave a tittering laugh. “Very funny. Is Garrett going to perform the surgery, or is he working with someone else on your case?”
“I have no plans for surgery of any kind in my future, if I can avoid it.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. I just assumed he was helping you with…”
“With what?”
“You know. Your scars.”
Dante stopped dancing quite suddenly. Their momentum caused Rachel to stumble, but he caught her up against his chest so she did not fall.
“I apologize,” he said. “That was careless of me.”
“It’s okay.”
“If you could clarify…” Dante’s mind was reeling from the thoughts speeding past.
In his time, he had heard of techniques that were being developed to change peoples’ appearance. Nothing showed enough promise to give him hope, but that had been over a hundred years ago. With the advancements in other areas he had seen, he wondered what had been accomplished in this field.
“Are you saying that Garrett could perhaps remove the scarring on my face?”
“I don’t know for sure, but you should definitely talk to him if you haven’t already. Maybe he can refer you to a specialist. There are plenty of people out there who can do reconstructive surgery. If it’s something you want, you should keep looking until you find someone who can help you.”
“Reconstructive surgery…”
Dante felt a rush of adrenaline spread through his body at the thought. As he soared on the surge of hope, his stomach suddenly clenched, the leaden weight of it dragging him back to cold reality.
Elsa would know of this. This was her world, after all. She would know that there were surgeons who might be able to help him. But then, why had she not mentioned this yet? Why would she keep this possibility from him?
“Are you okay?” Rachel asked. “You look angry.”
“I am quite fine, I assure you.” Dante reined in his temper and put forth a placid expression. He might not have ever taken to the stage, but he had spent over a decade in the theatre. He knew how to act. “I do find myself growing tired. It has been quite an eventful evening.”
“I suppose I didn’t help any.”
“On the contrary.” He lifted Rachel’s hand to his lips and pressed a gentle kiss on her knuckles. “I found your company most illuminating.”
Rachel laughed, but some of her nervousness had returned. Perhaps she was not as comfortable with his appearance as he thought.
No matter. He had more important things on his mind. He bowed curtly and then headed through the crowd to find Elsa.
He would have answers. And he would have them now.