Chapter Eight:
Efforts in Vain
Erik sat in his chair and smoked his cigar smoothly. He watched the thick smoke encircle the air around him and begin to evaporate. He sat silently and stiffly. The sun was setting in the pink sky, setting on his long day. He sighed in relief. He wanted it to be night. Night was safe and isolating. He could just lock himself in darkness and think about everything that went through his mind. There were so many emotions whirling within. He wanted to just break apart and let them all escape. He wanted to yell, to cry, to think, to be alone, to be with someone. He wanted Christine. That's what he really wanted. He wanted to feel her soft, white skin against him and feel her lips on his. He wanted to feel her under him again and gaze in her eyes. He could still hear her whispering to him, telling him how much she wanted him, how wonderful it felt being with him. He had had no idea. He had loved her, yes, but he didn't know it was this deep, this painful.
Erik had lived a pretty shallow existence in the past fifteen years. He had traveled and explored and served his country, but he had spent all of his free time being quite a Lothario. He had philandered around brothels and clubs and slept with countless women. All he cared about was his own pleasure, getting money and then spending it on cheap girls who would give him whatever he wanted for a few hours. It had been wonderful for him during his twenties, when his libido was all that mattered, but as he neared thirty, aimless skirt-chasing had become tiring. He wanted more.
He thought he had found more with Angelica. Angelica was an escort, true, but had seemed deep and different than all the whores. She was stunningly beautiful with long, wavy red hair and blazing blue eyes. She was tall with full, large breasts and slender legs, pale, like any redhead. She was also masterful in lovemaking, unlike anyone else he had met. He had met her in India where she had studied the Karma Sutra and how to please a man without even ever having to take off your clothes. Erik had adored her and being with her and learning more from her. He had become an amazing lover under her tutelage.
He soon began to think he was in love with her. She was kind and thoughtful and listened to him and was patient. She doted on him like a real lover. He soon began to think they really could marry and have children and be together forever. As soon as he had told her this, though, she had left. She had left a note on his nightstand telling him she couldn't give him the life he wanted and had to be free. The last time he had heard, she had become a mistress to a member in Parliament, probably making the poor idiot feel the way Erik did.
He had gone back to emotionless pleasure again until he had gone back to England and seen Christine. It was just another ball; one he had been forced to go. He didn't want to be there or talk to anyone. He didn't expect anything meaningful or poignant to come out of the mouths of all the shallow, stuffy people of the ton. And he had never seen many good-looking women among them either. Then, he had seen Christine. She was merely fifteen then. She wasn't as beautiful or as developed as she was now, but she had still been beautiful and enchanting. He hadn't been able to catch a breath at the sight of her. She radiated with kindness and delicacy and innocence. He just couldn't get over how exquisite she was. She was truly an angel.
"Sir?"
Erik turned to his butler.
"Dinner is being served now, my lord."
Erik nodded and got up and went to his dining room.
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"I couldn't believe it when he did it! I was just standing there when he had gotten down on his knee and brought out this beautiful ring," Meg said as she showed Christine and Raoul her engagement ring.
"I mean, I knew he was going to ask, but like that? And with this?" She looked at the ring and smiled at everyone.
Christine smiled and laughed for the sake of her friend, even though inside she was very tired and not in the mood for Meg's excitement tonight. She was happy that Meg was getting married and had found a good man, but she was very overwhelmed.
"When do you think the wedding will be?" Raoul asked before taking a sip of his wine.
"I would like them to wait at least a year," Madame Giry said, gaining a frustrated look from Meg.
"Christine, tell my mother that a year is just far too long! I want to be married!"
"Meg, you hardly know him," Christine argued, feeling a little irritated, but careful not to show it.
"Christine, that's what marriage is for," Meg retorted sweetly.
Christine glanced at Raoul quickly.
"Christine, Raoul, I must tell you that I thought that the wedding was beautiful," Madame Giry said, changing the subject.
Christine and Raoul both mustered smiles and Raoul squeezed her hand affectionately.
"It was very beautiful," Raoul agreed.
"It is such a blessing to be married and young and in love. I hope you two enjoy it very much," she continued.
The maids began to clean up when dinner began to wind down. Christine and Meg excused themselves as they left to go upstairs and look for "something". Raoul watched them warily as they hurried upstairs and prayed Christine wouldn't say a word about the wedding night. But he kept a smile and a cheery countenance as he and Madame Giry sat and had a discussion.
Meg shut herself and Christine away and locked the door. She smiled at Christine mischievously and motioned for Christine to sit on the bed next to her.
"Okay," she said once Christine was next to her. "Tell me everything."
Christine tried to feign ignorance. "About?"
"About what? You little sneak. You won't be able to get yourself out of this, Christine. Tell me about…" She dropped her voice to a whisper and said, "…the wedding night."
Christine couldn't help but blush. "Oh, Meg, I can't…"
"Yes, you can. Now, Christine, as my friend it is your duty to tell me so I can prepare myself. I need to know what to expect."
"Meg, it's very private…"
"Not between us girls."
Christine bit her lip in frustration. "Well…It was different."
Meg raised her eyebrows. "Different?" How so?"
Christine looked at her friend and considered what to do. Should she tell her the truth? Telling someone and asking for advice might help her sort out what was going. But then again Meg would be horrified. She would not approve and would probably lecture her. She'd be disappointed. Christine had always been a pillar of virtue and purity and morality. Meg wouldn't see her that way anymore if she told her. She'd be ashamed of Christine.
"It…it was fine, Meg," she decided to finally lie.
"Fine? Just fine?"
"Yes. It was…pleasant and…fine."
Meg looked incredibly disappointed and confused. "Did anything interesting happen? Did it hurt?"
"Well, at first it hurt a little, but then it was fine. It was just in and out and done."
Meg crinkled her nose. "Raoul must not be a very passionate lover."
"He is," Christine tried to persuade, worrying Meg would tell her friends. "He's a fine lover."
"No, Christine. I think if he was remarkable you wouldn't just be saying that he was fine."
Christine looked down, ashamed that she had painted such a poor picture of Raoul as a lover.
"Have you done it since?"
Christine shook her head.
"Well, you must! Maybe it was just okay the first time because he didn't want to hurt you. But if you try again it might be better. And he needs to know that you love him. He might think that he is poor in bed if you don't respond to him or even come to him."
Before Christine could ask how Meg knew such things she wondered if what Meg was saying would be helpful. Maybe if she slept with Raoul things would be better and she'd be in love with him again and they'd be happy. Making love to Erik had brought her closer to him. Maybe it would do the same for her and Raoul. Besides, it was her wifely duty. And she had agreed to marry Raoul.
The Girys had left around eleven and Raoul and Christine were left alone together again. The dinner had been cleaned up. The maids and attendants were in bed. Raoul was ready for bed. Christine was ready for bed. They looked at each other.
"Are you tired?" Raoul asked.
Christine nodded. "A little."
"We should go to bed."
Christine nodded and began to go up the stairs.
"Christine."
She turned and looked at him.
"Would you like to sleep with me tonight?"
Christine remembered Meg's speech and what she had decided to do. She nodded.
Raoul followed her and led her into his bedroom, or really what was supposed to be their bedroom. She looked around nervously and stood awkwardly. It was very uncomfortable just standing and waiting. At least with Erik they had been in the heat of the passion, ready to just ravish each other. She immediately stopped herself. She couldn't compare Raoul to Erik. They were completely different and it would not be fair.
Raoul turned to Christine. "Would you like to dress for bed? I have a nightgown for you."
She took the nightgown and began to remove her clothes, all the while feeling very inept just standing there and undressing while Raoul also undressed. She tried to give him privacy, but she couldn't help but look at him. She couldn't help but be a little disappointed. He was already not as tall as Erik or as broad but he also wasn't very muscular. He wasn't fat or pudgy, but he was a little skinny and pale. Erik had been bronzed and large and chiseled. Raoul was a little puny.
She quickly changed into her nightgown so he couldn't see her naked body and got into the bed. He finally dressed as well and got in next to her. They pulled up the covers to their chests.
"Christine…" Raoul whispered.
Christine reluctantly turned to look at him. "Yes?"
"Are you sure…? Is it okay if we try to…?"
Christine understood what he was trying to say and mustered up the courage to nod.
Raoul leaned in and slowly kissed her. She wasn't going to lie. He was a pleasant kisser and it didn't feel bad. He was her husband; she should like to kiss her husband. She slowly kissed him back and let him get on top of her. They kissed steadily and easily. She remembered all of the kisses before and how easy it had been. She slowly tried to get back into that mindset.
He began to stroke her and put his hands on her breasts. He was breathing harder and kissing her more deeply. Christine kept with him and kissed him back and allowed him to stroke her body, although it did feel a little scary and strange. He shifted on her and began to run his hands up under her nightgown on her skin. She stiffened a little but let him keep going. He loved her and he wanted to make love to her. It was his right anyway. But when she felt his arousal on her she began to go rigid and want to escape. It was truly dawning on her. Raoul was going to make love to her. Images of Erik in her flashed through her mind. She couldn't think about Erik now. Could she? Oh, God, she admitted, how she missed him between her thighs. That thought immediately shook her. She couldn't make love to Raoul. She still wanted Erik.
"Raoul…" she began to whisper, hoping he would stop. She began to put her hands up and edge him away.
Raoul…Could you…Could you try to stop?" she whispered weakly.
But he wouldn't stop. He continued to kiss her and stroke her and began to tug at her nightgown.
"No, Raoul," she protested as he started pulling it off and unbuttoning his trousers.
"Raoul! Raoul, stop! Please!" she began to demand a little louder.
She finally had to beat on him and try to push him. "Get off, Raoul!"
He reluctantly stopped and looked at her. "What? What? What!" he roared in frustration.
"I…I can't do this…" she responded meekly.
He looked at her in irritation and rolled off.
"I'm sorry…" she tried to apologize.
"Forget it, Christine. Just go to your room and sleep."
Christine didn't hide her tears as she ran to her room and slammed her door. She sobbed against the door and held herself. She was a terrible wife, a terrible tease! He probably hated her. God, she was such a wreck. How could she have done this?
She wept as she pulled her nightgown off and impulsively put on a red gown. She didn't know what she was doing or why, but all she knew was that she needed comfort. She couldn't be alone. She needed arms to hold her.
She threw on her cloak and took the note from Erik out from under her mattress and quietly grabbed her bag and blew out the candles. She hurried down the stairs softly and ran to back, servants' door. She went to the stable behind the house and quickly and quietly untied one of the horses. She shushed it as she saddled it and mounted it and then kicked it go.
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Erik sat in his study and read a book next to the weak candlelight when a knock appeared at the door. He furrowed his brow in confusion and answered it. It was his butler.
"My lord, someone is at the door for you."
Erik glanced at his butler and then quickly strode to the foyer. He stopped when he saw in the open doorway Christine, soaking wet. She looked at him.
"Erik."
