"Annabelle, stop looking out the window and pay attention. I'm not going to repeat this session!"
Charles Magnussen pushed the folder into her face. Annabelle took it from his hand as she tried to concentrate on the photo that was paper-clipped to the folder.
"This is James Moriarty. He's a scientific and mathematical genius, born into one of the wealthiest families in Ireland. He was the head professor of mathematics at a small, but famed University, and practically worshiped for his accomplishments in science and technology."
Magnussen smiled and fingered his beard, his eyes glittering. "But he was unceremoniously defrocked of his title. It was discovered that Professor Moriarty was involved in various criminal activities while he taught at the University."
Annabelle studied the man's photo, his dark brown eyes penetrating her soul. She swallowed as she looked up at her tutor. "If he was so brilliant, why would he risk his position at the University?"
Magnussen rolled his eyes. "You are so grossly naive, child. He was obviously bored with the drudgery of university life and somehow realized his magnificent talents would be better spent organizing the criminal world." Magnussen smiled. "His brilliance lies in the fact that he never gets caught. He is a master of manipulation, and no matter what the British government does, they can't pin a thing on him." Magnussen chuckled. "I've also made use of his considerable abilities."
Annabelle raised her eyebrows. "Are you a criminal, Mr. Milverton?"
Magnussen paused and walked over to Annabelle. He smiled and touched her chin, lifting her face. She shivered at the coldness she saw in his eyes. "You remind me so much of your mother. You are so very lovely and your music... " He closed his eyes and twisted his head as he sighed dramatically. Opening his eyes, he smiled. "It's a shame your mother went insane. She had such potential." He leaned down and kissed Annabelle's forehead. "Dr. Moriarty has a pressure point as everyone has a pressure point, Annabelle. He just hasn't shown it yet. One day, my dear, I'll introduce you to him, and you're going to find out what that weakness is for me."
He ran his lips across Annabelle's forehead as she cringed. "You'll do that for me, won't you?"
Annabelle's skin crawled as she pushed away from him in revulsion. Magnussen's hand snaked out and grabbed a bunch of her hair, yanking her face to his. "Won't you, Annabelle?"
That's when the music started. It was quiet at first, then grew louder as it filled the room. Magnussen looked around and released her. "What is that music?" His mouth twisted in disgust.
Annabelle closed her eyes as the soothing melody started to fill her. She felt the blackness that had taken over her mind was clearing as she struggled to find the music.
(Click and listen to the music that Annabelle hears. Make sure to turn down your speakers before you listen.)
She sat up in her bed as the piano continued to play. She held her breath realizing she had been dreaming of her father. But the music wasn't a dream... or was it?
Annabelle looked around the darkened room as she tried to catch her breath. Why was the lamplight out? Who was playing the piano at this hour? She lifted the covers and got out of the bed. She tried to turn on the light, but it refused to go on as the haunting music continued to play.
Carefully, Annabelle made her way to the bedroom door. She opened it and was surprised to see the hallway lights were also off. Fear started to turn her stomach, but the music continued to beckon to her. She had to know who was playing the piano. Using the wall as a guide, she slowly made her way to the staircase. Her hands gripped the railing as her bare feet touched each stair. Like the rest of the house, the main level was cast in darkness except for a light that came from a room down the hallway. She walked towards the light, the piano music getting louder with each step. She could hardly believe the rest of the occupants of the house didn't hear it.
As she pushed open the door, the music abruptly stopped. Annabelle saw she was in the music conservatory, the giant piano standing in the center of the room. She looked around for the piano player as the floor lamp cast its gentle glow. The color drained from her face as she realized she was alone in the room. She gripped her head in her hands as she stared at the piano. How could she be alone? The music was so loud... so haunting. Tears streamed down her face as she thought about the madness that had claimed her mother. She couldn't be going insane– she had heard the music!
Desperately, she approached the piano as her eyes widened. Lying gracefully on top of the piano was the Stradivarius violin. Annabelle carefully lifted it in her hands, touching the smooth wood finish of its body and the elegant curve of its neck. She brought it to her face and sighed as she nestled the violin under her chin. Lightly grasping the bow in her hand, she started to play the music that she had heard from the piano only moments before.
Moriarty looked up from his chair in the study. His chest tightened as he heard the violin solo. What was she doing? Why was she playing that music? He started to hyperventilate as he continued to listen, remembering his mother had played the same music the day before she sent him away. He stood up on shaky legs and staggered to the door. He could hardly walk from the effects of the whiskey and the emotions that were drowning him.
Leaning against the door of the conservatory, he saw her. Her eyes were closed as her body swayed with the violin to the music she was playing. He careened forward as he tried to focus on her, tripping on the rug and landing with a crash onto the piano keys.
Annabelle jumped in shock as she saw Moriarty tumble to the ground. Quickly, she set the violin and bow down on the top of the piano and went to him. She could smell the whiskey on his breath as she lifted his head.
His eyes tried to focus on her face. "Why must you always torment me?"
Annabelle could hardly contain her own emotions as she stared into his pained face. Closing his eyes, he struggled to sit up, angrily pushing her hands away when she tried to help him. Defiantly, she took his arm and wrapped it over her shoulder as she tried her best to help him stand to his feet, his larger frame nearly toppling her over several times. She helped him to a chair as his weight dragged her down with him.
She tried to stand up, but he grabbed her arm and pulled her to him so forcefully that she practically fell into his lap. As his arms tightened around her, he placed his face against her neck. The warmth of his breath and the prickle of his whiskers against her throat was strangely comforting.
His face nuzzled her neck as he inhaled the lilacs that encircled him. She was all he could think about as the music reverberated in his mind.
Annabelle wrapped her arms lightly around his shoulders as she let him relax against her. After what seemed like hours and exhaustion rapidly claiming her, she realized she had to get some sleep. She pulled from him slightly as he looked up at her with bloodshot eyes.
"James, let me help you get upstairs to your bed."
He nodded and released his grip on her body as she got up from his lap and helped him out of the chair. He leaned heavily on her as they slowly made their way up the stairs and down the darkened hallway. Annabelle managed to open his bedroom door. Once inside, he pulled her with him as he fumbled for the lamplight on his nightstand. Running his hand through his hair, he tiredly looked at Annabelle then at another door.
"Wait here," he said as he staggered to the ensuite bathroom door and shut it behind him.
Annabelle looked around the bedroom– his bedroom! Warning bells sounded in her head as she quickly stepped out into the hall and hurried to her own room. Shutting the door behind her, she went over to the lamplight and tried it again. She was shocked as it easily came on. Shaking her head, she lifted the bedcovers and got underneath. Laying her head on her pillow, she closed her eyes and sighed.
Her eyes flew open again as her bedroom door flung open and crashed against the wall. Moriarty stood in the doorway, angrily looking at her. "I told you to wait!"
Before she could utter a word, he went to her bed, threw back her covers and scooped her up into his arms. Annabelle grabbed onto his shoulders as he carried her from the room, sure he was going to drop her.
"Put me down." She struggled, but he ignored her weak protest, finding new strength in the warmth of her body pressed against his chest.
Entering his room, he kicked his door closed and set her down on his bed. Annabelle quickly scurried to the other side as she watched him get under the covers. Turning off the light, he reached over and firmly pulled her over to him so her head was snug against his chest. He flicked the remaining covers over her body and rested his cheek on the top of her head, his arms wrapping around her. She was shaking as her face pressed against him.
"Go to sleep, Annabelle," he said tiredly.
Within minutes, Annabelle knew he was sleeping with the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest. As she listened to his heartbeat, she sighed and joined him in slumber... even though the lamplight remained off.
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Hey, guys! Thanks so much for reading. I'd appreciate your vote if you're liking the story. Also, your comments keep me motivated to stay on schedule with updates! Next chapter: Sherlock.