A/N - So sorry for the long wait, folks. This chapter doesn't have a lot of substance to it... it is actually just a piece of a far longer chapter, the end of which has taken me FOREVER to write. But considering THIS half of it was finished and has been for some time... I figured I should just post it while I finish up the rest. Consider it proof that I haven't forgotten about this story ;) Anyway, thanks for reading.
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Raoul could barely look at Christine on the drive back to town, so great was his anger. On the one hand, he couldn't bear it to see that the blackguard had hurt his fiancee. On the other hand, if she really was as fine as she told him… well… well he wasn't very happy about that either!
What had you been expecting? his own mind taunted. Raoul had given it a great deal of thought, over the last few days. In an ideal world… she might return to him unharmed yet utterly ecstatic to see him again. Which, he supposed, meant he was inadvertently wishing that Erik might frighten her a little… and what kind of man would wish such a thing? Not I, thank you very much!
This was a bad idea, all of it.
Threads of shame had begun to weave through his hatred. Raoul huffed, shoving those thoughts away and resolutely focusing on the true villain of this game. Erik, Erik, Erik! He refreshed the name in his mind again and again, reminding himself that the blame fell completely upon his ugly shoulders.
"I have received word from my brother," he said gruffly, trying to break the tension.
"You did?" Christine prompted, though she seemed distracted.
"Yes. He is… awaiting our return. You'll stay in my sister's cottage at first, of course, but after the wedding, you'll move to the family estate… the rooms next to mine are being prepared for you. You can decorate them however you like." He added that last part with a hopeful note, as if tempting a child with a sweet.
Christine frowned. "The rooms next to… you mean… we wouldn't be shar-" she stopped, flushing. Raoul wisely kept silent, not wanting to draw attention to her ignorance. She'll have so much adjusting to do…
She cleared her throat and changed the subject. "When will that be? You'll want to leave soon, I imagine."
He exhaled forcefully. Finally, he thought. Finally she is ready to leave… eager to start living again. Perhaps this interlude at the asylum had not been such a bad idea, after all. "Soon," he confirmed with a nod. "Those gypsies - the ones we'd seen on the road a few days ago - have stirred up some unrest in the city. Seems people are all up in arms again over that circus master's death." He looked at Christine with narrowed eyes. "You wouldn't know anything about that, would you, Christine? Was he responsible? If so, you'll tell me now."
She shrugged one shoulder, but her face was impassive. "I cannot say," she answered quietly, but there was a warning note in her tone. "But I do not appreciate the insinuation, Raoul."
And, just like that, he was feeling embarrassed again. How did she manage to make him feel like a fool when he had every reason to bel-
He shut off that line of thinking. It was only making things worse. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he continued his previous answer, "At any rate… my contacts among the police have assured me that order will be restored with all possible haste. They're good men, the gendarmes… good at keeping the peace. I believe them when they say they'll settle it directly. If nothing else, they'll clear a path out of the city… and that's all we really need, anyway. So, to answer your question… very soon we'll be on our way. The servants have already begun packing."
"Very well," she responded. Her voice may have sounded a little despondent, but she wasn't hedging or trying to delay… so he'd ignore it. For now.
They both turned back to their respective windows, once again descending into awkward silence.
What kind of marriage is this going to be? Raoul asked himself… not realizing that Christine was wondering the exact same thing.
-0-0-
As Raoul seethed, Christine fretted.
'Try.' That's all Erik had said. It had been a challenge… but really more of a promise. The man could promise murder without ever even speaking of it. Somehow Erik had been able to hold a world of menace in a single word.
This event could have ended very, very poorly, indeed.
While she never begrudged Erik his anger - Raoul had come to his home and threatened him, after all - she found she resented having to drag her fiance out of harm's way.
Raoul meant well, she kept reminding herself. He just had this tendency to run headlong into trouble… and he was awfully protective, where she was concerned. But, it was one thing when they were young and he went climbing too-tall trees or challenging hulking bullies. It was another thing entirely when a man, fully-grown didn't want to acknowledge his limits.
She ought to have been flattered, she supposed, that he'd been so willing to risk death to save her. But… she didn't need to be saved! She'd been right there, behind him, ready to leave free and clear… and he'd threatened Erik anyway!
As if… as if it wasn't really about her at all. As if Raoul had been spoiling for a fight and Christine was just a convenient reason. As if he'd used her as some righteous sounding justification to cover a reckless act of male pride.
She felt… used.
And there was the fact that, since she'd never forgive herself if Erik killed him (and Erik would have, she had no doubt about that), she'd had to be the voice of reason, pulling him back from the insanity that he was just itching to fall into. She hated that he'd put her in that position. Hated it.
Odd. She'd pulled Erik out of madness once or twice, but it hadn't bothered her the same way. Maybe because, when all the dust settled, he looked at her like she was some savior from above.
But Raoul? No. He was angry with her! She resented that, too. She'd embarrassed both of them, yes, but she'd saved his life. How dare he be so… so… indignant!
Maybe because he believed he could have bested Erik?
Then he was an idiot.
And besides! Even if he could have taken on the likes of Erik… why? What did he have to gain at this point except petty revenge that Christine had begged (yes, begged, because she was an idiot, too) him to forego?
Since when have you become so uncharitable, Christine? She sighed. That was a good question. She wasn't used to having such hateful thoughts. Truly… if she was perfectly honest with herself… she didn't like the woman she was becoming with Raoul. She wasn't like this with anyone else!
He is not good for me.
Stop, Christine! No second thoughts! You are being ridiculous. Childish. Completel-
"I have received word from my brother," Raoul said. His voice seemed to break up her simmering thoughts. It cannot be good for me to think such things about my husband, I must not think them of my fiance.
She resolutely turned her attention toward the future, listening to him tell her about their wedding preparations.
She stuttered a moment when he'd mentioned their sleeping arrangements. Separate rooms had not occurred to her. On some level, she'd been aware that many wealthy couples chose to have private quarters… but she had never given it much thought, having no reason to believe that she'd ever belong to such a class of people. Not impoverished little Christine, who'd grown up sharing tents, cabins, and barn-lofts with her father whenever they were in-between patrons.
Quickly realizing her blunder, she shut her mouth.
Still… it started fanciful notions spinning around her brain. I bet Erik would never abide separate rooms if we were-
With a horrified flush, she slammed a barrier before those most traitorous thoughts, refusing to let her mind finish the sentence. Instead, she asked Raoul more about their travel plans.
She tried to listen as he prattled on about preparations and unrest within the city… and she bristled when he brought up the gypsy circus master. 'You'll tell me now,' she mocked, mimicking his voice in her head. High-handed brute!
But, overall, despite her very best attempt at concentration, her mind kept tip-toeing back in the direction of the very thoughts she'd wanted to avoid. What kind of husband would Erik be? Would he always want me near? Always seek my touch, my company? He would demand everything of me, but he would give everything of himself. Why doesn't that feel as overwhelming anymore? I once thought that life with him would drive me mad! And now, as I am handed all I have ever wanted in life, all I can think is...
What if I had played things differently?
-0-0-
Christine's room did not have much in the way of personal effects, but she could see that Louise had begun packing what items she had collected. Her wardrobe was cleared out but for a couple of day dresses and travelling clothes, proving that Raoul truly did expect to leave quite soon.
She was surprised to find that a tidy stack of beautifully wrapped packages, arranged on her dressing table amidst some of the most artful bouquets of flowers she'd ever seen.
Louise had greeted her brightly, excited to show her the surprise. "It was so marvelous," she gushed. "Monsieur kept slipping up here at all hours to leave this and that, and to write all those letters. I stacked it all myself, to make it look nice… but the rest was all le vicomte."
Christine hesitated. "Well, go on!" Louise urged. "They won't bite. Don't you want to see what's inside?"
Hand shaking, Christine opened the top of the closest package, it was a jewelers box encasing a gorgeous necklace... the most perfectly matched string of pearls she'd ever seen.
"Do you like it?" Raoul asked, leaning against her door frame. "The jeweler insisted you would. I went in looking for sapphires to match your eyes but then I sa-"
Christine paled. Rose's eyes were sapphires. "No!" she blurted. "No," she repeated with more composure, "this is lovely! I much prefer pearls. Thank you, Raoul."
"I'm babbling, aren't I? I'm sorry… I'm just nervous, I suppose."
At that disarming statement, Christine felt her color returning. "Nervous?"
His voice was wistful when he answered. "We had a rather strange reunion, didn't we?"
"Which one?"
He shrugged, entering the room fully. "All three, I supposed. I mean… first you're positively terrified. Then you're depressed and hallucinating. And then, today… I don't even know what to make of today." The door clicked shut behind him. "What happened back there?"
Christine folded her hands in her lap, preparing herself for the more serious turn of conversation.
"I didn't mean to embarrass you," she said, after a moment's thought. "I just didn't want to see you hurt." Or worse...
Raoul huffed, scowling. "No better way to wither a man's pride, that. Do you have such little faith in me, Christine? Am I so weak in your eyes that I need a woman to protect me?"
"But Erik is-"
"NO, Christine!" he snapped. His voice was so harsh, Christine couldn't help but flinch. "It cannot be this way. When we are married… I need you by my side. Do you understand? You cannot contradict me so, never again. Never in public. You do not know what that does to a man… for his own wife to… no. What happened today was inexcusable."
Christine was biting her tongue, her face flushed with the effort. Raoul took her expression as one of fear and immediately gentled his tone. "I apologize. I forgot how fragile a woman's sensibilities can be. I should not have shouted. It's just… you tie me up in knots, Christine? I run hot and cold, all day long. I'm completely at sea here. One moment I want to cosset and hold you… and the next, I am nearly mad with jealousy. I scarcely recognize myself, these days." He ran his fingers through his hair, looking every bit as wild and lost as he claimed to be. "Christine, I don't want to quarrel anymore," he said wearily.
"Neither do I. I can't seem to help myself, though, can I?" she attempted a pitiful half-smile. "When did I become so contrary?"
He chuckled at that. "Oh it's not so bad. My sisters are a thousand times worse. You're just confused, is all. All this… it'll pass." It sounded as if he was trying to convince himself.
"Have you opened the rest of your gifts, yet?" he asked, offering a much needed change of subject.
"I'd only just sat down to," she answered, and then gestured to the necklace. "This was the first."
"Mere tokens, really," he said, casually, but his face held a boyish hope that made Christine's heart soften. "I found myself thinking of you often. I wanted you to come home to a proper welcome."
"How very thoughtful! But you must know… it's really not necessary to-" she paused when she saw a tick in his jaw. "But I thank you, just the same."
She shuffled through the packages, trying to decide which to open first, and a handful of pages fell to the ground.
"What are these?"
Raoul looked momentarily horrified, then snatched them out of her hand. "Don't read those! I was… I was just being sentimental. I shouldn't have even written them."
She smiled, eyes sparkling genuinely. "You? Sentimental? Now I must see them."
"Oh no, you don't!" He held them up over her head, just out of reach.
Christine leapt to her feet, trying to catch the letters by jumping. "Raoul, you cad! Give them here."
"Poor Christine! She's so short! Whatever shall she do?" He teased.
"I hadn't realized I was engaged to a twelve year old," she accused, laughing.
"Twelve, am I?" he responded. Then quickly, impulsively, he did exactly what he'd desperately wanted to do when he was an actual twelve year old boy, but what he'd been too nervous to attempt. He stole a kiss. Right on her lips.
They both paused, blinking owlishly at each other. "Christine, I-"
"Ha!" she cried triumphantly, breaking the moment. She had the stack of papers in her hand and clutched them protectively to her chest. She opened the seal on the first letter.
"Well at least wait until I'm gone!" Raoul insisted. "Leave my besotted heart a little dignity!"
"That I can do," she said magnanimously. She set the letters aside, then abruptly turned and gave him a false glare, jabbing her finger at him like an angry governess. "Don't you dare try to take them back, you!" she teased. "I know your tricks!"
He laughed. It was beautiful.
One by one, Christine had begun to unwrap the offerings - more jewelry, silk ribbons, fur lined gloves.
Most touching of all was the simply wrapped package, hiding unobtrusively in the bottom of the pile. It was a little wooden figuring - a bird, if Christine had to guess. It was carefully carved, but crudely, as if done by…
A child.
"I debated whether I should give you that or not, but I'd held onto it this long, so..." Raoul trailed off, shrugging. He took it from her and gently turned it over in his hand looking over it at every angle. "It was some driftwood I'd found the day we met. I was just a lad, then, no money that wasn't my parents', but I wanted to give you something all on my own. I worked on it for days, but it seemed I could never get it quite right. And then, before I knew it, you were gone and I was on my way back to school and… life just got in the way, didn't it?" He handed it back to her with a self-deprecating smile. "The knife slipped when I was carving the beak, got a nasty cut on my thumb."
"I remember that day!" she exclaimed. "You had a bandage on your hand and wouldn't say why!"
"But you kissed it better, didn't you?" he said softly. "God, I miss those days."
Christine lowered her eyes. Her voice was hoarse with emotion when she finally responded sincerely, "I miss them too." But they're gone now, never to return…
"I've missed you, Christine. So much it pains me. And even though your back… this rift," he gestured between the two of them, "it's too much. Have dinner with me tonight, Little Lotte. Let me remind you of how things used to be… of how things could be between us."
Without waiting for a response, he quietly slipped out the door.
-0-0-
Louise tumbled onto her backside when the vicomte opened the door.
"Clumsy me!" she said with a nervous laugh. "Tripped over my own feet, while sweeping!"
"You don't have a broom," he pointed out.
"Oh well, I…" caught, she cringed. "Are you going to sack me?"
"For listening at the keyhole? No." He smiled. "But don't make a habit of it."
She blew out a sigh of relief. "My thanks, sir, I just…"
"I have a task for you, Louise," he said, his voice sounding grave. All the humor was gone from his eyes. "We can discuss it in my office. You may find me there once you are finished… sweeping."
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