Author's Notes: Each and every day all of us are faced with choices in this life. We make small choices – what to wear, what to eat – that only affect us. We make large choices – right or wrong, good or evil – that affect not only us but all those around us. No matter when these choices are made have a way of coming back to haunt us. And ghosts need not only be relegated to the past or companions in the present – they can haunt our futures as well. So how can we learn from the effects of past choices so we can recognize them in the present and save the future? Those are the questions that will face Raoul and Christine, Erik and Tallis and their families as a nightmare from the past returns and a ghost in the present reveals itself. They will unwillingly come together as they are forced to examine their lives and the choices they have made as everyone struggles to save the promise of the future.
"Choices" is the sequel to "Puzzle Pieces" and "Golden Princess". It will finish what those tales began and be told in three parts. "Choose Life" where the choices of the past affect the present. "The Choice Before You" where the choices of the present affect the future. And "The Time Has Come Around" where past and present must be reconciled so that there will be a future. These stories were inspired by the song "Choose Life" by Big Tent Revival. Finally – once again – I must thank my friend's list on LiveJournal. Those people are a wonderful sounding board and a great source of wisdom and help. I could not have finished the outlines or even begun this story without their help.
CHOICES
Prologue – Chagny – 1890
Monsieur le Comte de Chagny leaned back in his chair and sighed – a mixture of content and sorrow. He surveyed the images lining his desk and marveled at the ability to have loved ones close even if they were far away. Or gone. So many faces he remembered, so many lives that had touched his. He smiled as he looked at the images of nieces and nephews, laughing slightly as he thought that the photographs did not do justice to the vibrant lives the children led. The smile trembled and disappeared as he looked at the images of those no longer with him – Mathilde, the housekeeper who had mothered and indulged him; Arthur, who had joined his staff as an assistant and grew to be one his closest and most trusted friends. Eyes closed as he looked at the photograph of his brother's wife holding a tiny baby – a baby who had come into their lives and left almost before they knew he was there. Philippe turned his head to look out the windows of his study, toward the front drive and thought back to dark days when he had stared out those windows waiting for his brother to return, praying for a miracle, even as he knew that the dead never come back. A miracle had happened then and Raoul had come back to him but there would be no miracle for tiny little Hakon. The infant had truly died and now slept in peace with all those who had gone before him.
"Where I shall soon find rest," Philippe muttered and another sigh escaped his lips as the weight of centuries of family history pressed upon his heart. A knock came at the door, drawing him from his introspection. "Come," he called out.
The door to his study opened and for a moment Philippe thought it would be Arthur with papers to sign or Mathilde carrying a tray loaded with food and ready to scold him for neglecting his health and working instead of eating. But neither of those two dear friends that stood in the doorway smiling at him, it was Chase Toussaint – his brother's secretary. "Am I disturbing you?" Chase wondered.
"No," Philippe replied as he waved in the man holding a small tray with a teapot and sandwiches. "I am glad for the interruption."
Chase smiled as he kicked the study door closed and approached the desk, setting down the tray. He looked down at the framed photographs. "A bit of introspection?"
Philippe nodded. "Yes." A single finger went up to rub at a wrinkled brow. "I fear I am getting old and find myself seeking out the memories and friends of my youth for comfort. They bring me much joy." He shook his head. "You probably think me in my dotage and very foolish."
"In your dotage, yes; and you have earned the right." Chase agreed. "Foolish – I would never think such a thing."
His words put a genuine smile on Philippe's aged face. "Thank you for that." He motioned for Chase to take a seat. "No wonder my brother places such trust in you. It is a rare thing to find a man willing to voice such honesty without fear of retribution."
Chase began to pour out the tea, placing a small drop of milk and a spoon of sugar in Philippe's cup, just a touch of milk in his own. "I was brought up to always speak the truth – unless it was kinder to speak a small lie." He handed the cup and a plate with a small sandwich to Philippe. "The years I have spent in your brother's service have taught me when a lie is kinder than the truth." His eyes twinkled and Philippe was certain it was with merriment. "They have also taught me that a great sense of humor has blessed this family. Which is why I knew I could say such words to you."
"I am so glad that you were recommended to Raoul after Pierre Martin died. I know that he was feeling quite lost without someone he could turn to and trust implicitly." Philippe shook his head. "You came and quickly it was as if you had been with the family for years! You are quite amazing and talented."
"I was simply in the right place at the right time," Chase said simply. "I was very fortunate in having my previous employers see the potential that I had and be willing to let me go to someone who could take advantage of what I could do."
"And you have done it very well," Philippe admitted and turned his gaze to the pictures of his family. "But do you not miss your own family? It seems that you are always working and rarely from our side. Even now you are down here arranging the papers for the next horse auction when you could be with your family."
Chase studied the milky brown liquid in his cup. "I was raised from a tiny child to know my place in my family. They saw in me the same thing that your family and the other families for whom I have worked saw – my ability to conform to societal norms. It allowed me to find positions with grand families and help to support my own brothers and sisters."
"You do not often talk of your family."
"I try very hard to keep my work separated from my family." Chase shrugged. "It is not as if I do not hear from them on a regular basis. Or help them when I can. I even take the occasional weeks away from my duties to go and see my brothers." A strange smile crossed his face. "I am particularly close to my eldest brother."
"Much like Raoul is to me." Philippe shook his head and placed his teacup down. "Family is so important. At the end of the day, they are the ones who will always be there for you no matter your missteps or failings."
"No matter," Chase whispered.
A yawn claimed Philippe's next words before he could speak them. "I had not realized how tired I am." His eyes flicked to the mantle clock. "And at such an early hour. I must truly be getting old." His eyes turned back to Chase. "Have you seen my wife?"
"Madame is upstairs resting."
"I should join her." Philippe placed his hands on the arms of his chair. "Monique and I had so many missed years that now even simple things like taking an afternoon nap together seems like such a luxury." He steadied himself and tried to push up from the chair, unable to rise as shaking limbs forced him back to a seated position. "It is quite sad when I cannot even get out of my own chair." He tried to chuckle and could only yawn. "I am really getting old."
Chase put his teacup down and raised his face to Philippe, a strange and disturbing gleam in his eye. "And I would not plan on getting much older."
"Pardon?" Philippe shook his head again as little dots began to dance before his eyes.
Chase rose to his feet, quickly crossing to open a closed side door. He smiled at the figure standing in the doorway and stepped aside, allowing the man to enter.
"What…" Philippe's tongue felt thick. "What is going on here?" he demanded, his voice still managing to carry a tone of authority.
"What's the matter?" A familiar chuckle emanated from the new person in the room. "Don't recognize old friends?" He stopped in front of Philippe's desk and leaned over it. "What kind of noblesse oblige is that?"
Philippe's vision was growing worse and he found his thoughts jumbled but there was something about the man leaning over his desk that struck a chord deep within his memory. He looked at Chase, standing behind the stranger, smiling, a hand clasped to the other man's shoulder. They looked so alike despite the obvious differences in age and status. Where Chase was groomed and dressed, looking like every other respectable man on a city street, the other man was old and worn, his clothes poorly made. But there was something about the way that Chase held to the man, the way his eyes gleamed with almost a familial pride. It matched the gleam in the older man's eyes. It was that gleam that finally triggered the memory in Philippe's jumbled thoughts and his eyes grew wide with the memory as he slumped backward in his chair, unable any longer to sit upright.
"Nico," he breathed.
The living nightmare from the past smiled broadly, teeth uneven and neglected. "So glad to see you remembered me," Nico breathed.
Chase chuckled, drawing Philippe's failing attention. "It is not only your brother you can return from the dead. They pay the help so poorly at the asylums. It was easy enough to find someone who needed the extra money and was willing to slip my brother," he emphasized the words, "a drug that made it appear as if he had died."
"What… why…" Philippe fought to get the words out.
"The wealthy are always so gullible," Chase continued. "The Romas - my people - have always placed their smartest in good schools where we will be noticed when some fool with more money than common sense needs help to manage their lives. I just happened to be in the right place at the right time."
"My little brother always was the smartest of us." Nico began to move about the desk, toward Philippe who could do nothing but watch. "Just like your little brother was everything you never were." He stopped in front of Philippe and leaned forward, placing his hands over the ones Philippe rested on the arms of the chair. He patted the hands beneath his. "Not feeling too well, are you?"
Chase chuckled. "Your brother would be very familiar with the drug I gave you." His lips turned up in a smile.
"Your wife is very familiar with it." Nico nodded toward the teacup. "She had years and years of experience drinking it." The smile on his face was anything but pleasant.
"Just a small dose dissolved in the liquid and quickly a person is rendered helpless. They are completely malleable to the will of those in control." Chase moved around the desk. "Just as I have been all these years." He stood behind his brother. "Just as you are now."
Nico leaned in so that he could whisper in Philippe's ear. "Just like your brother was." He leaned his head against Philippe's. "But children – ah, children! – do not need the drug for they are not dangerous when cornered." He drew back and stared into horrified eyes. "And babies especially are so easy to control." Nico held up a hand and waved it back and forth before Philippe's face. "All it takes is one hand and one pillow and a little boy is dead in his crib and no one is the wiser."
Philippe had a sudden clarity of thought. Dear God! Hakon…
"I always said I would come back for my toys," Nico reminded Philippe. He turned his attention to his hand. "And now the Hand of God seeks the justice so long denied." The hand moved over Philippe's nose and mouth and the drugged Comte de Chagny could barely fight as life slipped away from him.
Monique… came Philippe's last thought.
Nico finally released his hand and as Philippe's dead body slumped in its chair he turned to his brother. "That was not any fun," he said and frowned. "Too easy."
"But so well done," Chase said and grasped his brother's hand in congratulations. "Two down."
"One to go." Nico raised his eyes to the second floor. "But not until she can send for my favorite toys – the Vicomte and his pretty wife."
"The Comte and his wife," Chase gently corrected him. "And there are always other ways to play with your toys."
"Aye," Nico said and sighed happily. "My toys."
Two days later those "toys" were on a train bound for Lyon and from there to Chagny, grief holding sway over their hearts at the loss of an elderly and beloved brother. But there was also joy that he had lived a long and full life, able to share the last years with the woman he had loved for so long.
And that woman - Monique, the new Dowager Comtess de Chagny - climbed the stairs of the chateau she had called home for seventeen years. Hands that would cling to the marble banister to steady an aging body now held tightly to the arm of her young companion. Monique was glad that youth and strength walked alongside her for she was knew that should she once again collapse from overwhelming grief and loneliness no marble banister would catch her, would hold her, would comfort her. The man beside her had done so before and Monique trusted him to do so again. She turned to him and offered a wavering smile of silent thanks.
"That is a lovely – if understandably sad - smile," Chase said. "What did I do to deserve it?"
"Nothing," Monique told him. "It is just…" She shook her head and could not continue as a familiar lump returned to her throat.
Chase patted her hand. "I understand. It has been a difficult few days." He paused at the top of the stairs, watching and waiting as Monique negotiated the last riser. "I know that I feel the Comte's loss; I cannot even begin to imagine how deeply you must be grieving." He joined Monique in the upstairs hallway. "I am glad I have been here for you but I know that I am not your family." He walked with Monique down the hallway toward the rooms she had shared with Philippe. "But soon they will be here and even though I know that they will be grieving, as well; I also know that together all of you can bring comfort to each other. A shared grief is an eased grief."
"You are very wise for one so young." Monique's voice broke as she stopped before a closed door.
"It was a hard won wisdom," he said under his breath. "Are you sure you do not wish to take your rest elsewhere?" Chase wondered. "There are so many rooms in this chateau where you could rest without being disturbed by memories."
There was a moment of silence as Monique contemplated the door before her. Beyond the closed door, beyond what she could see and hear, her mind drew her back to happier times and she closed her eyes, finding solace in the sights and sounds. She could hear her husband's laughter as they rediscovered the joy that had been stolen from their youth. Bright blue eyes twinkled at her through the candles that lit their dining table. She could still feel the warmth of his compassion as he held her those first awkward nights of their marriage when she was still living in fear of older sensations, older memories. But Philippe's patience and the love that he had kept in trust for her all those years supplanted all the fear and the pain and she had finally grown into the loving, whole woman she had always known she could be. Now the memories of that compassion and love broke her heart and comforted her soul at one and the same moment.
"Madame?" Chase wondered.
"I know he is gone. That when I open this door Philippe will not be there but I also know that the moment I step through, I will feel him all about me." Monique sighed as a smile crossed her lips. "That is why I will not find rest in any other room in our home."
Chase's hand turned the knob and opened the door. "Then, please allow me to guide you to that rest." He stood aside as Monique entered before following, closing the door behind him. He watched as Monique moved toward the bed she had shared with her husband, sitting down, taking a pillow and holding it to her face, smelling the scent that still lingered there. He turned to a tray waiting on a nearby table. "I took the liberty of having Cook send up a pot of chocolate." He poured a cup and walked to Monique, holding it out to her. "I thought you might enjoy something sweet and I know that your late husband said you no longer drank tea."
"I do not drink tea. I have not been able to drink tea since my first marriage ended." Monique took the cup, sipping at it before returning it to Chase. "Thank you. That was nice but I am tired." She turned toward the headboard. "Oh, Philippe," she sighed and wiped at the escaping tears.
"Your family will soon be here," Chase told her as he placed the cup back on the tray and moved to the windows.
"I know. I am looking forward to having the children here." Her hand moved lovingly across the side of the bed where Philippe had slept. "They always bring such joy whenever they are here. Philippe always wanted to keep them with us." She nodded to herself. "Perhaps I shall return to Paris with Raoul and Christine and the children when the funeral … after everything is over." Monique's gaze roamed around the lonely bedchamber. "This is just too much to bear."
"The bright lights of a big city can always chase away the darkness of solitude," Chase said as he began to draw back the curtains.
"Solitude," Monique whispered. "I spent too many years alone in a marriage where I was only a trophy to be flaunted, a toy to be played with for his amusement." She sniffled back her tears. "I no longer wish to be alone."
"And we do not want you to be alone, pretty lady," a voice said. "No toy should ever be alone."
The voice drew her attention toward the windows where Chase stood, the drapes pulled back in his hand and a man she had thought dead standing beside him. Shock drove Monique to her feet, her hands going out before her, attempting to ward off the living nightmare.
"Say hello to my brother, Nico," Chase said calmly.
"How … why … I don't understand…" Monique stuttered.
Nico began to slowly and deliberately cross the room toward the pale woman backing away from him. "You took everything from me." A step forward. "My toy." Another step. "My new toys." The hunter took another step forward as his prey took another step back. "Now I am going to take everything from you." Nico stopped, his head going to his shoulder, his voice taking on a sing-song quality. "I took the little baby for the little baby I could not have." His head tilted to his other shoulder. "I took your silly husband for my toy that they took from me." His head straightened and he grinned at Monique. "And now I am going to get a new pretty lady for the pretty lady I lost."
"Oh God," Monique breathed as her back met an immovable wall and a hand went to her throat. She looked toward Chase and saw a stranger staring back at her.
"I never interfered when my brother was playing with his toys," Chase told her.
Nico moved around the end of the huge bed. "Are you ready to play with me, pretty old lady?"
Monique winced as her hand clenched and moved toward her heart. "Philippe," she breathed and crumpled to floor, eyes open, staring into eternity.
Nico crossed to her side, a toe reaching out to nudge a human who would never react again. He turned to look over his shoulder at his brother. "My toy went bye-bye."
Chase nodded. "I know." He smiled and winked at his brother, moving to his side. "But there are other ways – other toys – you can set up and knock down."
Nico was silent for a moment before his head began to nod enthusiastically. "Yes. Yes. Yes!" His head stopped bobbing and his eyes grew dark. "Knock down the new toys."
"Knock them down and take them away forever," Chase growled.
"Yes." A smile grew on Nico's face, huge and devoid of emotion. "Forever," he repeated happily.