Evie sighed as it began to rain, thinking that she would have to wait until a hansom appeared, but to her surprise Monsieur Destler offered her his arm. Why was it that she always met men in the rain?
"Why don't you share my carriage, Mademoiselle Lambourne?" He asked and she could not suppress a smile. Perhaps he can marry Fern now…She thought wryly, thinking of poor Ansel.
"So we're back to formalities, are we?" She teased, feeling unnaturally heavy hearted. "Very well…though I have to stop at the doctor's house for some medicine my mother ordered. Fern is sick."
"Your sister?" He asked. Nodding, she allowed him to help her into the vehicle.
"She's been coughing a bit and she has a slight fever." Evie explained, thinking that it had been the second time in two years that Fern had been ill. In fact, it seemed to be a direct relapse of what she'd had before. It worried Giselle and though Evie tried not to show her own trepidations,
"I see." The man replied, sitting beside her but not close to her. To her surprise, however, Monsieur Destler asked to come into the new townhouse she, Fern and her mother now lived in so he might have a look at Fern. Cautiously, Evie consented and followed him into her sickroom. She was sleeping, of course, and there was a pale, luminescent tone to her skin. Her dark hair made her seem all the paler. Giselle had chosen not to write to Ansel and Bianca yet since they were still on their honeymoon and it would not do to worry them about things that weren't serious yet. She had, however written to Cadence and Bethany, who was now also expecting finally. Cadence had given birth to a healthy girl in April, whom she named Mirabelle.
In two months, Evie would turn twenty-four and in all her life she had never dreamed she would still be unmarried by that time. Most women her age had children by the age of twenty-two. It was a daunting thought and yet, she was not ashamed of it. She had progressed on her novel greatly, though something was still vexing her. How exactly had the Phantom gotten down to his lair? Where were the traps? Madame Giry had kindly been giving her details, but details were not enough. Evie had to see them for herself to know them. She had to live them to write them.
Monsieur Destler looked over Fern as impartial as any doctor would, but there was a humane way about his touch. He regarded her as one might regard a small sickly pup. With a grim look, he turned to Evie and motioned for her to come to the bed.
"What's the matter?" She asked and he held up the girl's limp wrist.
"Look here…there is a rash." He observed. Peering closer there were tiny red bumps all over Fern's arm.
"Oh my…" Evie looked up at him.
"I think your sister may have Scarlet Fever." Monsieur Destler said quietly.
"But…people d-die from that." Evie said, blinking back sudden tears. He gave her a slightly sympathetic look.
"Not always, pet." With a sigh, he covered Fern and put a hand on Evie's shoulder. "You need to tell your mother to send for the doctor, I'll wait here for you." With a nod, Evie turned and fled down the stairs in search of Giselle. She found her in the sitting room with her head in her hands.
"Maman." She said quietly and her mother looked up.
"Evangeline…what does Monsieur Destler think?" She asked curiously. Evie's resolve crumpled as she began to cry.
"He thinks Fern has S-Scarlet F-Fever…she has a r-rash." Evie sobbed. Giselle gave a great sigh.
"I thought she might as well…I've already sent Stephen out for the doctor." Stephen was one of their few servants. Since Ansel had helped them move, he insisted they have a cook and a butler and one housemaid.
"It's one thing after another isn't it?" Evangeline said, staying near the doorway. "We get settled in and then this…what is wrong with us?" Giselle looked at her tiredly.
"Things will get better…" She said, though she didn't sound quite so sure. "It probably isn't Scarlet Fever."
The doctor, however, agreed with Monsieur Destler, turning to Giselle with a sad look.
"It is Scarlet Fever, Madame, though luckily it is still early. I'll start her on a treatment right away." He said easily. Evie peered around the corner from where she'd been standing in the hall with Monsieur Destler. They hadn't said anything to each other the entire time the doctor had been in the room. Her mother was pale, but looked a bit relieved anyway.
"I should go." She heard him say behind her. Quickly she turned around.
"No, you can't!" She said quickly and tried to think of a reason why. He raised an eyebrow.
"I can't?"
"No…I forgot!" Another thought came to her. "I would like you to show me the secret passageways at the opera!"
"What?" He asked, taken aback. Resigned, she sighed.
"For my novel." She said hesitantly. "I can't just write based on details…I need to see them myself." His lips twitched and for a moment she thought he might smile, but he shook his head.
"No. It's not safe. They haven't been kept up…something could happen…"
"Please." She asked, unknowingly reaching for his hand. He snatched his arm away quickly.
"Why would you trust me?" He asked rationally. "I am a murderer and untrustworthy. I am known to be unstable." His voice was calm as a summer day.
"You won't hurt me." She said, not quite sure why she was certain of that, but she was all the same.
"I could try to force myself on you…" He said.
"Oh?" She replied, folding her arms. "Would you?"
"Perhaps." His voice was low.
"Monsieur Destler," She sighed, irritated. "Will you or won't you take me? I'm tired of your elusiveness." His eyes grew dark for a moment, but he gave a nod so slight she wasn't sure if she'd imagined it or not.
"Be at the opera house tonight after it's dark. Can you steal away when your mother and sister have gone to sleep for the night?" She nodded. "I'll take you the same way I took Christine. Once and only once will I consent." He replied, turning swiftly and walking away from her.
She was there even before him, waiting in that wretched dressing room. It had been odd, coming back into the Opera Populaire this way, but it almost felt as if he hadn't left. He moved about in secret as he had then with ease. Evangeline was staring at him, wide-eyed in the darkness but for a single candle she held. Her hair was braided down her back and she had on a loose fitting day dress, obviously unsupported by a corset.
He said nothing as he moved to open the mirror, touching the exact sensitive spot to trigger the latch. Sliding it open, he turned wordlessly to the girl and offered her his hand. She took it, holding up the candle to observe every bit of the tunnel. To his surprise, she had no note pad with her. Reading his mind, she smiled.
"I don't need it. I'll remember." She whispered. Her hand was warm and soft and smaller even than Christine's had been. She was quite a small woman, barely taller than Marguerite Giry. Her head hardly reached his shoulder. He tried to ignore the little noises of exclamation she made at each new discovery. He tried to disregard the way she clutched at his sleeve when she was nervous or excited. They finally came to the staircase winding down to the underground lake. Erik became very aware that the trap that Raoul de Chagny had fallen into was still gaping and grabbed her around the waist before she made another step. Gracefully, he pulled her up into his arms as he stepped over the hole and it the lever which made it close safely again. It creaked something awful as it had not been used in over a year. She took note of that even, he could tell as she watched his movements like a hawk.
His breath caught as the slight form of his gondola sat against the bank where Raoul and Christine had left it tied. Gently, he set Evangeline to her feet and took the candle gingerly from her, using it to light the lantern on the boat.
"Get in." He instructed. She allowed him to help her settle into the cushioned boat as he stood expertly, moving it as if he had still done it every day of his life for the past year. After a few minutes of pushing along, the sight of his wrecked former home came into sight as well. He cringed at the horror of it. His beautiful things had been shattered and destroyed. The doll of Christine lay in pieces. Draperies were shredded and his beautiful pipe organ had been maimed by the angry mob. What wasn't destroyed was missing as the scavengers had stolen what they liked and kept it or pawned it for a profit.
"Oh my…" Evangeline murmured as he helped her out of the boat. She looked around in wonder, picking up an ivory key that had been detached from the organ. Ripped drawings and shards of wood were everywhere. Everything he'd spent his life building…wasted in one fell swoop.
"Fucking ridiculous." Erik muttered, leading the way into the bedroom where the elaborate swan bed lay covered in dust and cobwebs.
"That is the most beautiful bed I have ever seen." Evie said in awe, staring past Erik at the bed, which was still covered in the red satin sheets.
"It's from Persia." He explained with surprising ease.
"It's such a shame that it's hidden away down here…" She murmured, walking toward it and touching the dust covered sheet.
"I couldn't really take much when I left." He countered, staying near the door while she explored. Shockingly, the clothes he's bought for Christine hadn't been touched by the mob. Evangeline barely touched anything, but let only the tips of her fingers run along everything. The sight was terribly erotic because she was so innocent of it. Erik felt like he was choking and reached up to loosen his cravat and collar. Instead he ended up untying the cravat all the way and unbuttoning the first few. Evangeline didn't even notice as she moved about.
"You brought her down here that night?" She asked quietly. He nodded.
"She fainted and I had to carry her in here to sleep." His voice sounded distant like it wasn't his own.
"Where did you sleep?" She asked curiously.
"I didn't." He replied. "I couldn't…it was the first time I'd ever actually been in a room with her. The first time I'd touched her in nine years…I couldn't sleep. I watched her sleep for a bit and then I left the room."
"How did you live down here?" She asked, her face illuminated by the dim candle.
"I just…did." He answered, unsure of what else to say. Now, he couldn't imagine ever living here again. He'd grown too accustomed to being around people again, to being out in the sunlight. Never again could he commit himself to that solitude again.
"I understand." She said, and he truly thought she did when she said it. "Well," She said, coming back to him and taking his arm. "Shall we go?"
"You are so lovely that way." He heard himself say.
"What?" She asked with a nervous laugh. "I'm all dowdy and ready for bed…and it's not like you to flatter, so…stop."
"Yes you should go to bed…" He replied drunkenly. To mine…
"Monsieur Destler…" She began. He made a slight sound of desperation.
"What will it take for you to call me by my first name?" He asked, feeling himself move closer to her. She stared at him silently with eyes wide.
"It's improper." She said firmly.
"I call you Evangeline." He offered and she looked a bit uncomfortable.
"Yes, but you have never really held regard for propriety…I mean, you did nearly ravish me in your parlor." Erik thought he saw the tiniest flicker of a smile in her eyes. "If anyone had seen, you would have had to marry me."
"Good God." He muttered, studying her. "You would hate me as a husband, Minx." He said after a beat.
"I don't know…you were very nice with my sister today." At the mention of her sister, her eyes began to shine with tears. A fact she tried to hide.
"Here." He said, handing her his handkerchief. "And I'm never mean to the ill…they're already suffering. It's the healthy I like to make miserable." A startled laugh left her, as though she were surprised to find that amusing.
"You are a devil, aren't you?"
"You have no idea, my sweet." He replied dryly. "You have no idea how much danger you're putting yourself in just being down here with me. I could just…I don't know, sweep you up and throw you on that bed." She pulled away from him in alarm. "If I had my way, I would have had you already…don't you see? You should have stayed away from me."
"I…" She began to protest, but he was intent as he cornered her.
"And the truth is…you want me too. Don't look like that," He chided at her look of shock, "it's true, isn't it? You came down here with me because deep down, you hoped something would happen. You had a taste for wickedness."
"I did not!" She cried indignantly. "I thought you already had someone to bed…that Lady Remy seemed pretty chummy with you!"
"Is that jealousy I detect, Mademoiselle Lambourne?" He mocked her, loving every minute.
"No!" She screamed at him. "But I'm nobody's mistress! I wouldn't consent to be anything less than your wife!" He grinned at her.
"So you're saying you want to marry me." He replied. A small growl of frustration left her.
"No! I…that wasn't what I meant."
"I know perfectly well what you meant, no need for the defensiveness." He assured her. "And to make something perfectly clear, I broke it off with Lady Remy months ago."
"Oh." She said lamely. "I didn't know…I'm sorry."
"I'm not." He said quickly. "Cressida was a deceitful, jealous tart."
"What would that make me?" She asked acidly.
"Perfect." He replied simply. "Too good for me." With a resolute sigh, he took her arm again. "Come, you need to go home before your mother wakes and sends the police after us. Then we'd really have to marry."
"Oh, she'd like that…she wants me to get married." Evangeline replied innocently. He chuckled, leading her out and into a different passageway behind a tattered drape.
"No to me she doesn't." He said and refused to speak any more on the matter.
"Is it me, or marriage in general you're opposed to?" She asked.
"It's me, I'm opposed to. I'm no good…I used to kill people for sport. I killed two men out of spite and three people died because of my stupidity."
"Yes." She agreed. "There is that. Answer me this, Monsieur…would you ever hurt your wife and children?"
"Children!" He choked. "I wouldn't wish this atrocity on anyone." He said gruffly.
"Stop that now…" She scolded. "That is something that wasn't your fault and the chances of passing it to another generation seem slim. It was simply a defect in your birth."
"I'm not sure, but I am sensing that you are trying to convince me to marry, which means you do like me…"
"Yes, I like you. God knows why, but I like you." She said. "You're stubborn, arrogant, not to mention you don't care about boundaries…and you're…" She stopped suddenly, "All wrong for me."
"No love, I'm all wrong for everyone." He corrected. They made the rest of the walk silently out to the Rue Scribe where his carriage was waiting. He helped her into the carriage and sat beside her. He noticed the way her eyes were falling closed every so often. Finally on the way to her house, she fell asleep against his shoulder and a horrible feeling washed over him that he refused to identify. He only knew that he needed to stay as far away from her as possible.
Christine's time came earlier than expected, in late May. She was sitting up in bed, reading while Raoul was out with some potential business partners. He was looking to invest money into a company. Truthfully even for his young age, Raoul had proved to be quite smart with money and had a natural flair for investing. In just one year of marriage, he had doubled his fortune.
Christine had received a letter of apology from the Countess a few weeks after her departure.
Christine,
I am writing to apologize for my behavior over the course of your marriage to my son. You see, we had tried for years to have a boy and when Raoul was born, it was a very difficult birth. He was very small and we worried he might not make it. For this, he was spoiled by me. It's been very hard for me to let go…but I have to because now he needs to be a father to another child. Your child. I think of how lucky this child is to have you both as parents. Raoul, who was so sheltered and you who was forced to grow up long before your time…I held your dear father in very high regard. I've made so many mistakes in my life, but I know I am doing the right thing now, for once. I'm so very sorry I was difficult with you.
Florence…Mother
A small smile came to Christine's face as she folded the letter and placed it back on her bedside table. As she made to settle back into the pillows, a surprising trickle of something wet ran over her leg.
"Oh…Oh dear..." She said, as she made to ring for a servant before she was cramped with pain. A maid appeared right away.
"Yes my lady?" She inquired. Christine spoke slowly.
"I…er…I'll need the doctor straight away. And my husband…someone needs to tell my husband. I'm having the baby." The maid's eyes grew large but she bowed quickly and sprinted from the room. Raoul arrived at home over an hour later, and Christine was still lying in bed waiting. The doctor was there and had told her it wasn't quite time to push yet, so she was trying to breathe through the contractions which had began to come closer together now.
"Christine?" Raoul asked, his voice cracking as he came into the room.
"Oh…Raoul." She said in relief. He looked from her to the doctor.
"Have I missed it?" He asked, confused as to why nothing was happening. She tried to laugh.
"No dear…it's only begun." She said apologetically. "You're going to stay?" She couldn't hide her surprise. Most men sat and drank somewhere that didn't involve witnessing the birth of their children. Raoul looked taken aback.
"Well…of course I'm staying…I mean, it seems only right since I did this to you." He said quietly, making her laugh as she patted the bed beside her.
"Then hold my hand." She replied. Another hour passed before she was ready to push and she knew it was time because her body seemed to be pushing without her approval. "Doctor Hammonds!" She groaned. "I need to…"
"Yes dear…it's time." The older man nodded, readying himself. "Count to ten each time you push and relax a moment until you feel the next contraction." Within three or four of these pushes, the head became visible. She knew because Raoul chanced a look between her legs and grew very white. An anguished moan left Christine as she tried to find the strength to ready herself. The pain was white hot and there was no relief.
"Raoul!" She cried, squeezing his hand as another contraction hit.
"What?" He replied, his eyes watering from how obviously hard she was gripping his hand.
"Get it out of me!" She screamed. "Get it out now!" He looked down at her in horror.
"I…just keep pushing. You're doing great." His voice was lame.
"You're nearly there, my lady." The doctor assured her. Sure enough, she had begun to push, when the pressure disappeared and she was able to breathe again. A shrill wail filled the room as Doctor Hammonds produced the child, a girl.
"Oh thank God!" Christine cried, falling back into the pillows, too tired to even cry at the sight of her baby. While the doctor attended the afterbirth, the doctor's assistant cleaned her off and wrapped her appropriately, handing her to Christine, who peered down into the fair haired infant's face. "Are you as tired as I am, my sweet?" She asked. The baby seemed to understand with her sparkling blue eyes and began to close them. "Here Raoul, do you want to hold your girl?" She asked and he stared at her in a dumbfounded shock, but nodded, sitting beside her again.
"Support her head." Christine said, handing her over to him. His face was pale and he looked tired, but he was smiling. "She's going to look like you…I can see it already."
"But she'll have your features. Look…" He said, indicating the baby's mouth. "Her lips are identical to yours." He smiled hesitantly at Christine. "Can you believe it? We're parents barely a year after we married."
"Oh I believe it." She said. "I just lived through that…I certainly believe it."
"We have to give her a name…" He said, and Christine could tell he was thoroughly enthralled with the girl who had only been in the world less than ten minutes.
"Her name is Lotte." Christine said, suddenly feeling tearful. "Lotte Isabelle." As this sunk in, Raoul's eyes began to water again, though she suspected it was not from pain. Bringing his lips to her forehead, he set the baby back into her arms.
"I love you so much, Christine…thank you."
" It was my pleasure." She teased, as the baby easily fell asleep.
Sadly, Christine and Raoul will not make another appearance for a few chapters. But A LOT is going to happen very soon.
Syd