Hi everybody, thank you all so much for reading for putting on alert, for adding to favorites and most of all, to all of my dear reviewers! You really areasource of motivation for me. Now, are you all ready for some drama? I hope you are, for we are approaching a climax of sorts, and yes, as promised, our boy is about to wake up...

Enjoy the new chapter but keep in mind that I do not own these characters!

Chapter 11 – Confrontation

Raoul had to wait another week and a half, before he heard from the postman again. He was in a terrible mood. He had visited the Girys' home twice more during that time, on the off chance that either mother or daughter could be persuaded to tell him where Christine had gone, or that either one might inadvertently say something that would ultimately allow him to find his fiancée. But these two women were obviously determined to keep him away from Christine. Not even his explanations of how a further delay of the wedding would negatively impact Christine's reputation seemed to impress them.

Raoul sighed. Theater folk! Obviously they did not value reputation too highly. Or maybe they did not quite grasp the importance of the concept. Was it so hard to understand that it would be impossible for him to marry Christine if her reputation was not impeccable, and that his family was already giving him subtle hints that his chosen bride was not exactly to their liking?

Raoul also was getting annoyed by Christine's attitude. So she needed some time to herself. As much as it hurt him that she thought she could deal better with the terrible occurrences of a few weeks ago alone than with him, he could at least understand that a certain distance might help her to come to terms with the horrors inflicted upon her by that madman. Kind of. But what he could not understand was why she did not at least write to him. She had been gone for about two weeks by now and he had not heard one word from her. True, Mme. Giry had assured him that she had arrived safely wherever it was she had gone, but... Raoul had to admit that he had hoped to receive a letter of his own sooner or later, but so far – nothing.

Raoul groaned. Christine's continued absence and lack of communication hurt him deeply, and he missed her more every passing day. But unfortunately, her actions had other consequences as well. He was aware that most of his peers were snickering behind his back already about how that commoner, and a theater wench at that, had him do all her bidding, how he gave her all the freedom she wanted, in short, how he apparently had become that woman's lapdog. He could not let things go on that way any longer. He had to do something in order to avoid becoming society's biggest laughing-stock. He had to make Christine follow his wishes, show her who had the say in their relationship. After all, who was she and who was he? Without him, she would be a nobody, forced to tread the stage for all eternity, and by now she would probably already have become the whore of that... that vile creature, that... that thing. Christine owed him, Raoul, her gratitude, her undying love and her obedience for all he had done for her, and he had to make sure she understood that. He could not tolerate her offensive behavior any longer. It was time Christine started to behave like a future Vicomtesse.

Raoul's gloomy thoughts were interrupted by his butler announcing a visitor. "The.. uh … gentleman … uh … asked to talk to you, Sir," the butler said, his face contorted as if he had bitten into a lemon. "It is nobody a person of your standing would know," he added, "I suggested he talk to the cook or if he insisted, me, but he is adamant that he needs to see you."

Raoul's mood was not improved by this information. "I am not talking to impertinent delivery men," he hissed. "Send him away!"

The butler nodded approvingly. "Right away, Monsieur le Vicomte," he promised, then added, "though it is not a delivery man, not quite, that is. To judge from his attire he is with the mail office, though he does not normally deliver our mail, and even if he were replacing a colleague,... that is to say, Sir, he does not have any mail for us."

"Mail? Postman?" Raoul gasped. That had to be his contact, hopefully with information about Christine's whereabouts! "Why didn't you say so in the first place? Quick, bring the man in! He has most likely important news for me!"

The butler rolled his eyes, but did not dare object. He quickly went and showed the waiting postman into Raoul's study.

Raoul eyed the submissively bowing man, then barked at him, before the latter could say even one word, "what took you so long? Do you at least have the answer now?"

The post man nodded. "Your Highness may forgive me," he mumbled, "but I fell ill and could not work for the better part of a week, and because of that I might have missed a letter or two, which is why I could not come to Your Grace any sooner. But today, I had to deliver a letter to that friend of Your Highness again, and the handwriting once again looked as if it had come from a lady, you remember, I told you that before, in case it is important. So I am pretty certain, that the person who is sending her those letters is a woman. There was no return address on the envelope, but I remembered you had told me to look at the stamp and try to find out that way, where it was mailed. And I could read it: it comes from a place called Boscherville."

Raoul beamed. Boscherville – wherever that was – was the place Christine had gone to! He now knew where she was! All he had to do now was to find out how he could best reach that village and then they could get married! He thanked God for his foresight to already procure himself the special license,which was now safely locked in his desk drawer. So he would have to face no delay. It was probably best if they got married right on the spot and moved to Perros for a while, till gossip had died down completely. Maybe he could even pre-date their wedding a bit, to make it look as if they had been secretly married already a while ago. If he could make his peers believe that, he would not have to deal with all those humiliating insinuations any longer about him not being able to control his woman.

"Your information is certainly helpful, even though a bit late," Raoul therefore told his contact. "I am now sure that my friend is corresponding with the person she was hoping to hear from, which is good news for me. I now need not worry about her any longer." And he reached for his wallet, took out a few bills and handed them to the man.

The latter bowed deeply and assured Raoul that it had been a pleasure to help such a noble person and that he would only be too pleased if His Highness remembered how reliable he was in case His Grace had a similar request in the future.

"All right, all right," Raoul told him, feeling slightly annoyed by the man's endless prattling. "Now you may take your leave!"

To his relief, the man took the hint and left. Raoul immediately rang for the butler. "Find out where Boscherville is," Raoul instructed the butler, "and how I can get there as fast as possible! Prepare a suitcase for a few days for me, and get ready to move the household to Perros. I will leave for Boscherville as soon as I know how to get there and will go from there to Perros. You and the rest of the staff will go to Perros directly and will prepare everything for my arrival."

The butler promised to carry out all of his master's wishes, and an hour later he informed Raoul that Boscherville was a small town in the vicinity of Rouen, and that the next train in that direction would be departing the next morning. Would Raoul want him to purchase a ticket for that train?

"Of course!" Raoul ordered. "Why are you even asking? Didn't I tell you, I need to go there as soon as possible?"

The butler immediately sent a footman to the train station to get the ticket, and the next morning Raoul set out for Boscherville, the special marriage license in his breast pocket, ready to get married later that day.

Xxxx

Christine was alone with her Angel. Nadir and Darius had asked her if they could leave her in charge of Erik for a few hours, since they had to go to Rouen to get some supplies that they were not able to purchase at the local store. Christine had told them not to worry, she would take good care of their patient in their absence, she would sing to him and read to him, talk to him, prepare him some lemonade and make sure he drank it. If she needed help with anything, Marie would be only a few steps away in her own home next door.

Nadir had promised that they would be back in maybe two hours. Since the weather was warm and sunny, a truly beautiful spring day, they had brought Erik out to the back terrace and comfortably settled him in a high-backed chair facing the garden. "We are sure that the weather will hold till we are back," the two Persians told Christine. "And Mademoiselle Perrault agrees with us. Should it get a bit chilly, which we do not expect to happen, just wrap Erik in another blanket. Do not attempt to move him back to the house on your own," they had instructed her, "Even though he has lost some weight, he is still too heavy for you."

Christine had nodded and promised to do just as they had told her. She had asked Marie, if she would like to come over as well and help her care for Erik, but the latter had politely declined. Marie thought that some alone-time between just the two of them might do Erik some good.

Christine had pushed her own wicker chair next to Erik's. On a side table at his other side stood a heavy pitcher full of lemonade that Christine had just prepared for her Angel.

"What would you like us to do today, my love?" she cooed to Erik, as if he could understand and answer her. "Shall I sing to you, or read? Do you want me to talk to you or would you prefer just to enjoy the beautiful garden?"

Christine decided on the latter. "The garden, it is," she told Erik. "Look at the fresh green grass, and over there, the first flowers, and the apple tree about to break into full bloom! And do you hear the birds? They are all chirping, happy that it is spring at last and winter is over!"

In order to stimulate Erik, Christine pointed out to him all the wonders of nature in the tiny garden. She even went and picked a few flowers so that he could smell them. "I need to put them into water," she told Erik, "or they will quickly die. I am not leaving you, even if you don't see me for a while, since I have to go into the house to fetch a vase. But," she smiled at him, "to show you that I am still here, I will sing. You will be able to hear my voice!"

Xxxx

Raoul frowned as he exited the train at Boscherville. What a tiny, rural community it was! He was not certain he could find a decent inn there to stay overnight, but even if he found Christine immediately and married her that same afternoon, they would not be able to leave before the next day, for there simply were no trains out of that godforsaken little town in the evening.

He asked for the inn at the train station and arranged for his bag to be delivered there. Then he inquired about a young lady, who must have arrived about two weeks ago, the guest of one of the townspeople. He was informed that that must be the girl staying with Mademoiselle Perrault, and he got directions to her home.

Raoul went to the inn first and made sure he secured their best room for himself. When asked how long he was planning to stay he mumbled something about "a few days, depending on how fast a certain private affair could be resolved."

Then he went in search of Christine. Supposedly this Mademoiselle Perrault she was staying with, lived a bit outside the community, on the road to Rouen. There were just two houses there, he had been told, close together, the smaller one the one he was looking for. That seemed easy enough to him and he was certain he would be able to find this Mademoiselle Perrault's home.

Raoul walked along the road, till he saw the two houses. He knew immediately that he was in the right place, for he could hear somebody singing. No, not somebody, Christine. He knew this voice, and he also knew the song she sang, Elyssa's big aria from her debut performance of "Hannibal".

Raoul smiled "Think of me," he remembered the lyrics, as Christine sang Elyssa's promise that "there will never be a day when I won't think of you!" A love song! Christine was singing a love song, about somebody thinking about their absent love interest. Christine was missing him after all! He should have known. Oh, how happy she would be to see him unexpectedly! She was a good girl, loving and loyal. He was going to surprise her. He was not going to knock on the front door, he was going to jump over the fence and meet her.

Raoul paused for one moment. Hadn't he been told that Mademoiselle Perrault lived in the smaller of the two houses? The singing sounded as if it came from the larger one. He shrugged. He must have misunderstood. The larger house was definitely where Christine was. There was a rather high hedge around it, though, but he was very fit and trim, climbing over that hedge was no problem for him, and the fact that these two houses were so far away from the rest of the village worked in his favor. Nobody could see him and accuse him of intruding.

Raoul quickly went over the hedge, then walked around the house towards the back garden, form where the singing was coming.

He had just rounded the corner, when he saw Christine, a vase filled with water in hand, approaching a side-table next to two chairs, on which some spring flowers were lying. She was reaching the end of the aria right now.

"Christine," Raoul grinned at her. "Surprise!"

The last note died in Christine's throat, and the vase fell out of her hands, shattering into dozens of little glass shards, spilling water all over the terrace floor.

"Raoul," she whispered, as her hands flew to her heart. "How... why... what are you doing here?" She instinctively moved away from the table and the chair Erik was sitting in, trying to lure Raoul as far away from Erik as possible, while she tried to figure out, whether or not Raoul could actually see Erik, from where he was standing.

"What kind of a welcome is that?" Raoul asked. "Aren't you glad to see me, Lotte?"

Christine swallowed. She had to protect Erik. She had to make sure that Raoul did not notice him, that Raoul did not realize she was not alone.

"Of course," she mumbled, "It's just, I did not expect you, you scared me. I did not know, anybody was approaching, I thought I was alone..."

Raoul opened his arms. "No offense taken," he said, "but now you know it's me, darling! I have great news for you. I came to tell you that I have secured a special marriage license for us and that we can get married this very afternoon. We just have to go to the church, show the priest the license, and then he will marry us, and the mayor will take care of the civil wedding."

Christine shuddered. She could not marry Raoul! She could not go with him! She did not love him that way, it would not be right, and besides, her Angel needed her. She cold not leave him, she had to stay here. But she also knew that it would be next to impossible to make Raoul understand that she had been mistaken about loving him, especially if she wanted to leave her Angle out of it completely. And it hurt her to think that she would cause Raoul some pain and disappointment.

"Oh Raoul,"she therefore said," taking his hand and leading him even further away from Erik's chair, which was now behind Raoul's back. "I do not think we should do this. Getting married, I mean. No, don't interrupt me, let me finish," she pleaded with him. "I do care for you, in fact a lot, and I am grateful for all you have done for me, but... a Vicomte and a singer do not fit. This probably would not work out even if I did love you beyond reason, which I don't. I am sorry," she said, squeezing his hand. "I truly thought I loved you, and in a way I do, but it's more the way one would love a brother or a cousin..."

"Christine, stop that madness right away!" Raoul threatened, a bit more forcefully than he had intended to. He could not believe she was actually turning him down. "You promised to marry me, you are my fiancée. I have waited long enough. I have the license, you will follow me to the church right away so that we can get married!"

"No," Christine tried again, in her most soothing voice. "Please Raoul, understand. We would both end up being miserable, if we got married. Even if you do love me as you say, your family does not approve of me, and you would have to face all sorts of problems because of marrying me, which would ultimately kill your love. Please, believe me, it is best to break our engagement and part as friends!"

"And have all of Paris laugh at me for having been lead on by you?" Raoul hissed, his patience finally at an end. "You are bound to me for better or worse. You will honor your promise and come with me to the church!" He yanked at her arm again and Christine escaped a sharp hiss of pain.

Xxxx

Erik was feeling restless. Something did not feel right. Just a few moments ago all had been so peaceful. He had dreamed his Christine was beside him, talking to him, singing to him, but now... He allowed his mind to approach the tiny fissure in his thick, protective walls, to listen to the outside world. He frowned. He seemed to hear his Christine arguing with somebody. What kind of strange dream was that? Was that maybe now a nightmare haunting him, memories of her talking to other people, other men, especially that boy?

Erik did not need to be reminded of her talking to her boy and he was about to retreat into the depths of his subconscious again, when he thought he heard a suppressed cry of pain – from Christine. No, he told himself. That was just his imagination. Christine was not here in the first place. That he had thought to hear her sing earlier had just been a dream, and even if she were here, she would not cry in pain, she would most likely stand in front of him and repeat all the hateful words she had flung at him that night. No, Christine was not here, nor was she in pain.

But... He hesitated. What if she was? If for some strange reason she was here and in need of help? What if he just shut himself off in his cozy little prison and let her come to harm? Could it hurt to check? If this had been a dream and she was not there, surely he could go back to his safe little haven, rebuild his walls, lock himself away from the world again?

Erik's decision was made. With one final effort he shattered his walls and returned to the world.