Chapter Six - Closer Now

Raoul did not see Christine until the evening when she joined his aunts for dinner. She was too pale and dark shadows dimmed her eyes, but the borrowed gown of apricot silk was becoming and she tried to smile as he helped her to a seat at the rosewood table.

"I've sent a telegram to my father. I want to be married at once, dearest. As soon as my parents came arrange to return, if fact."

Married. The word stunned Christine for a moment. She could still taste her Angel's tears on her lips. She needed time to mourn him. It was too soon.

"Good heavens, Raoul," interrupted Aunt Philomene, "you always were an eager child! The poor girls is still exhausted and here you are rushing her to the altar!"

Christine smiled at the older lady in gratitude as Raoul quickly apologized for his impetuousness.

As the meal progressed, Raoul avoided mentioning their wedding again, but he could not take his eyes off of Christine. How beautiful she would look when he lifted her lace veil and kiss her for the first time as her husband.

Meanwhile, the four of them lingered over dessert. The candles flickered as they spoke of the happy days in Brittany, of Gustave Daae's marvelous fairy tales, of the afternoon when young Raoul dashed into the sea to retrieve Christine's red scarf. Outside, delicate snow flurried swirled against the leaded windows.

-

Erik turned the carriage into the courtyard of the inn. As the horse's hoofs clattered on the cobblestones, the patron hurried out to meet him.

"Good evening, Monsieur. Come in out of the cold. There is a warm fire and good food to be had here."

Erik saw the man's expression of shock and revulsion give way to welcome as he took in the expensive material of the clothing Nadir had provided.

"Please see that my horse is looked after. The drive was a long one."

The man nodded and called for a stableboy to see to the carriage.

"Have you come out from Paris, sir?"

"I have," Erik answered as he followed the man into the inn's parlor. "I shall want a room for one night, at least. Perhaps longer."

"Of course, of course. Will you have take your meals in your room, sir?"

Erik hesitated. Did he yet have the courage to sit there in the inn's crowded dining room?

"I will have super in the dining room. Tell me, that chateau just across the river...is it still owned by the de Chagny family?"

"Let me take your coat, sir. Yes, the de Chagnys still live there. Are you from this region, then?"

"I have some...connections to this place. Do you know if the Comte de Chagny is in residence?"

The innkeeper shrugged.

"The family doesn't keep me informed of their comings and goings. The old Comte, though, is in London with his wife. But I did here that the young Vicomte came home from Paris late last night. Brought a young woman with him."

Later that night, Erik stood alone in the courtyard behind the inn. From there, he could see the dark shape of the chateau. A single light burned in one of the windows.

"Wait for me, beloved. Wait for me."