Moonlight glitters faintly on the lake shore, as waves breach themselves on the pebbled edge. An owl's call and the soft flap of raptor's wings barely break the silence. The yellow moon is reflected in full next to the small dock. Lights and warmth glimmer from the windows of the farmhouse, reaching a few yards out into the cold. A figure stands in the window, obscuring the light and studying the dark night outside. She studies the night in the light of the moon. The yellow disk is reflected dimly in her pupils, shining a light into her soul. The piano stands across the room behind her, a gentleman on the bench. A hand moves easily across the keys of a piano, the resulting melody passing lightly into the night. The woman turns and smiles in the warmth of the moment. She is a very enchanting woman.

*****

Emily turned away from the window as Edward finished the piece he had been playing on the piano. It was a surprise to her, that he played at all. She smiled, stepping away from the darkness that pressed against the glass and into the warm circle of lamplight. She sipped her wine and watched him from a short distance.

"That was very nice, Edward."

He slid over on the bench and patted the smooth wood next to him. "Thank you, Emily. It was 'Pour Le Piano' by Debussy." The lamplight seemed to give his eyes a reddish tint as Emily stepped towards him. She set her wine glass down on the closed lid and spread her fingers against the keys. She felt the warmth of Edward's hands as he placed his palms over them. "What shall you play, Emily?"

She smiled and moved closer to him, Edward moved slightly, giving her as much room as he could. He lifted his hands from hers as she began to play. Eyes closed, her head cocked to one side, a glimmer of the smile still lay on her lips. The song was familiar to Edward, he had played it before. Time ceased and they were surrounded by the melody. Slowly, her head titled backwards as she let herself fall into the music. When she finished, she opened her eyes and looked into the pale reflection that was in Edward's eyes.

"Very nice." he commented, taking her left hand and tracing the fingers. "You have much passion."

"It sets me free." her hands went back to the keys and she began to play the saraband again. Edward smiled, his hand still lightly atop her left hand, following the movements.

"Bach's Goldberg Variations." he whispered. She nodded, eyes closed once again. She leaned unconsciously closer to him, and he could smell the scent of lavender and vanilla on her hair. He pulls back, not daring to come that close again. He did once before, and it had caused him great pain. Her memory still tickled at the back of his mind, like a moth flitting at a screen. He released her hand, sliding off the bench to stand.

"You will forgive me if I retire for the evening, Emily." he was always polite, Emily reflected as she looked up at him.

"That's fine, Edward. Are you staying for the evening?"

"If it is not an inconvenience."

She shook her head, hands still playing lightly across the keys. "Of course not. I'll be down here for a little while longer if you need anything."

He inclined his head in a slight bow. "Thank you. Good night, Emily."

She had closed her eyes again, tipping her head back. "Good night, Edward." as he ascended the staircase, the sounds of the saraband once again filled the house. He would have dreams tonight. It did not bother him, except that he could guarantee that they would not be pleasant.

*****

She pulled the covers back on her bed, turned and looked out the window one last time before pulling the drapes. Sitting gingerly on the edge of the bed, she swings her legs up and under the covers. Slowly, Emily rolled over and reached up to the lamp. A small oil lamp remained lit on the bedside table, its light amplified by the mirror mounted behind it. She pulled the small sketch diary from the drawer and the fine tipped micron pen that was clipped to its cover. She flipped through the pages, looking for a clean, unblemished one. She stuck the pen between her teeth, pulling it from its cap. She sketched an eye on the page, seeing the details of her reflection emerge in it. His eye, his view to her soul, her self unveiled before him. If it were anyone else, she reasoned, such a revelation would frighten her. Quite the opposite with Edward. His presence in her mind comforted her, calmed her, let her see herself more clearly. She finished the sketch and let the cap fall from the grip of her teeth. She could almost see the reddish glint in her rendition, for it was only black and white. Reclaiming the cap, Emily tightly recapped the pen, carefully clipping it to the front cover as she closed the diary. She slid it into the still open drawer, then shut the drawer carefully. Emily the cupped her hand behind the rim of the glass chimney and blew gently, extinguishing the flame. She rolled back against the pillows, letting her eyelids flutter shut and her body relax. Sleep came easily and she began to dream. He was there, in the palace of her mind through it all. Watching, waiting for her to find him.

*****