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Once again, THANK YOU to all those who went back and reviewed for all the chapters I posted - especially after the FF site was being all screwy!
I really appreciate it.
Now for our winner of the 1000th review! It is none other than Firelily18! Congratulations girl!
Trying to decide who sent in the 1000th review was not easy, especially with all the crazy stuff the FF site was doing - reviews would get posted, then disappear, then come back, it was insanity! I had to wait till everything was back to normal before counting back to see who won!
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Guest Reviews:
Wendy: Thank you! And it is nice to see a new reviewer!
Guest: Yes the FF site was acting strange, but I am so glad you kept trying. I hope it was not TOO horrible and shocking for you.
PhantomChristine: I am sorry it broke your heart...I have super glue! Erik won't go completely mad, like Emily, but he will pitch a fit. I LOVED your dialogue about how she should have reacted...that made me LAUGH!
Guest "Happy Typing": Thank you for liking my originality about how he got disfigured. He wasn't born with it! Cedric is a big JERK! Right! And that is exactly what I was thinking of when I had her faint - the Charles Dance scene from Phantom! Good catch. But I had to laugh when you said that afterwards he went 'commando'. ha ha, That is slang for 'going without underwear'! And Erik always wears his Fruit of the Looms! Hmmm, boxers or briefs?
Guest: Yep, DIRE consequences! Glad you liked it...hope you like this one too!
CherryChocoholic: You need to stop watching depressing things! Good thing my story will work its way back to happy pretty quick.
And nice job figuring out the bunny thing! You are on FIRE!
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Now lets see how Erik handles this...don't expect it to be well!
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Chapter 35
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Erik had watched Christine's expression, inwardly pleading for her acceptance as his mask had slipped away. And for one glorious moment, he felt as if all his dreams had come true…she still loved him. Her hand even dared to reach out and bless his travesty of a face with her gentle touch. Oh what bliss, what joy. But suddenly, to his infinite horror, he saw her smile fade, her eyes growing wide as she stared open mouthed at what lay before her eyes. He grabbed hold of her arms, gripping her tightly as if he could force her to return her feelings to what they were moments ago…but alas it was not to be. As he shouted her name, she went limp in his arms, falling backwards as he let her land upon the soft mattress, no longer aware of him, his face or his madness.
With a cry of rage, his pain so deep it felt as if it were ripping him in two, he leapt from the bed and stared at the unconscious form of his wife…his Christine. Why had he listened to her? Why had he trusted her promise that she could love him after seeing his face? Why?
He began to pace back and forth, his hands running through his hair as he let loose a deep angry growl. All the effort he had been funneling into controlling his temper was now unleashed upon the furnishings of the room. Tables were overturned, pictures were torn from the wall, glass objects were shattered against the stone fireplace and several of the blankets and pillows were ripped to shreds. The only thing in the room that remained untouched was Christine, for even as crazed as he had become, Erik was physically unable to cause her harm.
Once the room was in complete shambles and there was not an ounce of energy left in him, he fell to the floor at the side of the bed, burying his face in the disheveled sheets he let his grief out in broken sobs. His hands reached out to the prone figure lying only inches from him, but instead of touching the silken skin of her hand, his fingers made contact with his leather mask, lying forgotten in his fury. The mask…that damned covering that had taken away all he was and ever wanted to be. He could almost hear William Radcliff laughing at him from the grave, reveling in the knowledge that he had indeed put Erik in a cage after all. Not the iron barred ones of a gypsy carnival, but one made of soft leather that kept him imprisoned. Forever denied the one thing he wanted most…Christine's love.
Erik stood up and stared at his wife a moment longer, before he donned the hated mask, grabbed his shirt, coat and boots and ran from the room. He needed to escape; he had to get out of that house and leave! It was still hours before dawn and no one was yet awake, so leaving undetected proved easy. He quickly saddled Phantom and rode away like the devil himself was on his heels. He did not look back.
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Christine's eyes fluttered open and she found herself staring at the ceiling in their room. For a moment she could not recall why she was still dressed and lying at a strange angle on the bed. But moments later it all came flooding back and she sat up, desperately searching for Erik. What she saw around her caused a strangled cry to escape from her lips as she buried her head in the blankets and wept bitterly.
What had she done? She could only imagine what Erik must have thought when she fainted. Here she had sworn to him that her feelings would not change at the sight of his face and he trusted her. He trusted her and she had let him down. Not in the fact that she felt any differently towards him, heavens no! Christine knew that she loved Erik just as much as she had before he removed the mask.
But the brand…that symbol on his cheek had completely taken her by surprise, sending her straight back to that horrible night when she was a child. How could it be? What were the odds that the enemy of her husband was the same man who had murdered her parents and tried to kill her as well? She knew it could not have been William, for the way Erik had described him, he would have still been a young man at the time. And while her dreams had never been very clear, she got the distinct impression the man who had tried to strangle her had been much older. So unless there was more of the Radcliff clan hiding in the woodwork, she had to assume the medallion she now had in her possession belonged to the infamous Simon. She needed to explain this to Erik, make him see that it was not his face that startled her but instead the knowledge that her past and his were connected. Christine had to get Erik to see this!
Scrambling off the bed she rushed to the door and hurried downstairs, searching first the dining room and then his private study, yet not finding him there. She was about to search the children's quarters and then Emily's room as well, when Madam Giry came walking through the entryway, a stack of linens in her hand.
"Antoinette!" she called, hurrying to her side. "Where is Erik? Have you seen him this morning?"
"No, my lady," she answered, a look of confusion on her face. "The last I saw of him was the previous night when the two of you headed off to talk." She now looked at Christine's clothes, noticing that the girl still wore the same outfit from the night before. It was quite wrinkled, causing the woman to raise a questioning eyebrow. "Perhaps he is with the children?"
"Begging your pardon, my lady," came the timid voice of Peter, causing both women to turn and watch him exiting the door that lead to the kitchen. "I didn't mean to overhear, but are you looking for Master Erik?"
"Yes, I am," Christine told him, eager to hear what he had to say. "Do you know where he is?"
"Not exactly, but I know he rode out early this morning on Phantom and has not yet returned." Peter informed her. "If you wish I will be sure to pass along the word that you wish to speak to him when he comes back."
"Yes, thank you, Peter," she nodded, watching as the young man bowed and headed out the front door.
"Is anything wrong?" Antoinette asked, her expression becoming one of concern. "Has something happened that might cause Erik to disappear unexpectedly?"
"I…I…" Christine began, trying to find a way to reveal the horrible truth, but in the end she could not form the words for they were simply far too painful. "No…I am sure he is just out riding. He will be back soon." He simply had to be!
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Christine spent her morning straightening up their room, re-hanging pictures, sweeping up shattered glass and other broken objects as well as disposing of anything that was simply not fixable. She did all this without allowing either Meg or Madam Giry to see the devastation Erik had left in his wake. This had been her mistake and she alone would bear the burden of truth until she could patch things up with her husband. Unfortunately she would have to wait until he decided to reappear in order to do it and it looked as if he was going to take his own sweet time at it too.
Christine busied herself for the rest of the day by visiting Emily and then playing with the children in their enclosed yard, all the while watching the door in hopes that Erik would suddenly appear. Yet as night fell, so did her hopes of him returning to her side. Huddled in their bed, alone and cold, she shed many tears of regret, wondering where Erik was and what he was thinking. She knew she had hurt him deeply by her unintentional reaction to his face, yet if he would not come back and allow her to explain, how could she ever make it right? Christine had no qualms about throwing herself at his feet and begging his forgiveness but his absence was quickly becoming ridiculous.
Eventually her hurt and guilt gave way to anger and frustration at his childlike display of temper. Had he not been the one to instate the rule, that when trouble came they could not simply leave Summercrest? Going so far as to forbid her from running off, saying that they should stay and talk, working things out together? Yet where was he now? Heaven only knew, but one thing was certain…he was not with her!
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The next day dawned cold and heavy, made so by the lack of Erik's presence in their bed, as well as the uncomfortable pains associated with her monthly cycle. It had arrived right on time, just like always and only seemed to compound her feelings of sadness and despair. She was grateful that Meg had picked up the necessary supplies she would need to deal with this inconvenient fact of life. The rest of the day passed very much as the last, lonely, sad and without Erik. Christine had gone over what she would say to him so many times in her mind that she was certain she could recite her speech by heart. It was a good speech too, one she was certain he would easily understand and quickly forgive her because of.
Yet by the third day, her prepared words began to sound hollow and useless. Not only that, many of the staff were starting to question the master's absence, especially Antoinette. The children and Emily were asking about him as well, wondering when he would come and visit or play. To keep the children occupied she took them to the garden and let them plant more flowers and on many trips to the stables to see the horses. This outing proved all the more pleasant when she had been informed by Meg that Joseph had suddenly quit, packing his bags and leaving so suddenly that Peter was left to inform Mr. Bower of his resignation. No one seemed to know why Joseph left but Christine did not care, she was simply glad he was gone!
On their way back, Christine kept her gaze trained on the road leading up to the mansion, praying with all her heart to hear the strong hoof beats of Phantom as he carried her Erik home to her. But no sounds came and the three entered Summercrest alone.
Madame Giry was standing in the entryway, her walking stick in her hand and a stern look on her face. Even though she was a very kind woman, Christine found her to be very formidable when she looked this way and she could tell there would be a reckoning.
"Robert, Amy," the housekeeper began, addressing the twins in a gentle voice. "Dinner is waiting for you two in your chambers and Rose requested a special treat for dessert, providing you eat all your vegetables. Now scoot." The older woman did not have to tell the children twice, for just the mention of a special dessert caused them to rush off with squeals of joy. Antoinette then turned her attention back to Christine. "I think it is time you and I had a little chat."
Christine lowered her eyes and nodded resolutely, following the woman into the nearest sitting room and positioning herself in a chair opposite her.
"I know something must have happened between you and Master Erik the other night," she began, leaning back and lacing her fingers as she rested them on her lap. "He would not have ridden out at such an hour and stayed away for so long otherwise. Would you care to tell me exactly what transpired?"
"I…I betrayed him in the worst possible way," Christine cried out, burying her head in her hands as she began to cry. "He…he showed me his face and I…I…fainted."
"Saints preserve us!" Antoinette groaned, tipping her head back and shutting her eyes as if she were saying a silent prayer. "I assume he did not take this well?"
"He…he destroyed the room and left before I awoke," she nodded, doing her best to quiet her sobs.
"So now you fear him? Can you not find it in your heart to accept him, not even a little?" Madam Giry asked, her tone accusing and harsh.
"No…I mean yes!" Christine gasped, looking up with shock in her eyes. "What I mean is that I do care for him…I love him! I did not faint because his face repulsed me or that I was frightened by him. In fact after hearing him explain about how he came to be so scarred, I believe I love him even more!"
"Then why did you faint?" Antoinette was now more confused than ever.
"I…I can't tell you," Christine moaned, still unwilling to share her own past with anyone except Erik. Besides, if she even mentioned Simon Radcliff's name, she was sure the poor woman would not sleep a wink that night. Erik's story had made it clear just how much the kindly housekeeper feared that horrible man. "I had good reason…but I do not wish to discuss it with anyone but Erik…for now."
Antoinette was silent for a while, contemplating the girl's cryptic words. Yet from the look on her face and the tears in her eyes she knew she had spoken true…Christine did indeed love Erik, and that gave her comfort.
"Very well, I will not pry into your personal affairs," she told her solemnly. "I just hope that the master returns soon and the two of you can work out this…misunderstanding."
"As do I," she said, reaching into her pocket and taking out a handkerchief as she dabbed at her eyes. "I just wish I knew where to find him, so I can tell him how sorry I am. Do you have any idea where he might have gone?"
"Well," she began, unsure if she would be betraying Erik by telling his wife this. "A few hours ago his solicitor, Mr. Calloway, came calling, wishing to speak with him on a matter of grave importance, or so he claimed. When I told him that the master was not at home, he left in a very agitated state, mumbling something about going to see Mr. Dessan instead. Now, if I were a betting woman, and I assure you that I am not, but if I was, I would think that would be the most logical place to begin looking."
Of course! She was foolish not to have thought of it sooner. Amir was his dearest friend; where else would he have gone? Unless he figured that would be the first place she would look and rode in the opposite direction. Either way, Antoinette was right; it was the most logical place to begin her search. If Erik would not come back to her, she was going to him! Making up her mind then and there, Christine decided a visit to Amir's estate would be done first thing in the morning.
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Miles away Erik sat in one of Amir's tall leather chairs, in a darkened room, staring out the window as he watched the sun set for the third time since his life had turned to hell…again. He gave a bitter laugh, thinking that he would almost choose to endure the torture Radcliff inflicted than to feel the ache in his now destroyed heart. Christine had looked at his face, and just like Emily, she had passed out in fear. Lifting the glass of whiskey to his lips, he downed the whole thing. It had not been the first and certainly would not be the last…not for a good long time.
After leaving Summercrest he had raced over the hills for hours, wearing himself out as well as his mount. When he had cried all the tears he had and screamed at the sky until his voice was raw, he at last turned to the only other person who understood his pain…Amir. For not only did his friend know the history behind the mask, he also knew the pain of unfulfilled love. However, the difference being, that while Emily was incapable of returning Amir's affection, Christine simply refused too. Yet what had he expected? Had he not pleaded with her to rescind her request for that very reason…knowing that to look upon him would mean the death of her so-called love? He was a fool…a damned fool!
"I couldn't agree with you more," Amir told him as he entered the dark room.
Erik had been unaware that he had said his final words out loud and rolled his eyes at his friend as he reached to pour himself another drink.
"No one asked you," Erik growled in reply.
"This is my house, therefore I am allowed to formulate my own opinions and voice them as I see fit." The open door allowed just enough light to filter in so that he could find the oil lamp and turn it up. Once he was able to move around without bumping into furniture, Amir came and took a seat in front of his friend. "I thought you said you had promised yourself not to overindulge in strong liquor again?"
"I promised this for Christine's sake," he grunted back, taking a long swig from his glass. "I no longer see a reason to keep such a vow. If you are worried that I will drink you out of house and home, I assure you that I can reimburse you for what I use."
"The whiskey does not concern me and you bloody well know it," Amir balked, offended that his friend would say such a thing. Although, as Amir looked around and saw the empty bottles littering the floor, he frowned. "What does concern me, is that you have been here for three days now and I still have no idea why I am forbidden to inform anyone of your whereabouts? I feel like I am harboring a fugitive. At least assure me that no one has died by your hands."
"The only death that took place was that of my own idiotic heart and it was not done by me…but her." Erik mumbled, staring into his glass as if it held the answers to the universe.
"Her? Do you mean Christine?" Amir asked, his brow wrinkling in confusion. "How could such a sweet and innocent girl as she do anything of the sort? Are you sure you didn't misunderstand perhaps?" He knew his friend was a master at jumping to conclusions and misinterpreting feminine signals. Not that he was any better, but at least Amir was humble enough to admit it.
"She saw my face," Erik told him, his voice so low Amir almost missed his words. But after hearing them he needed no further explanation as to why Erik was hiding out like this.
"She…she saw beneath your mask?" he asked in shock. "How…why?"
"I believed her lies when she said she could look upon my hideousness and still love me," Erik explained. "She told me it would not matter, that nothing could alter her feelings. She lied!"
"Did she actually say she no longer loved you?" Amir questioned, needing to know the whole story before he passed judgment. "Did she use those very words?"
"She did not have to!" Erik spat, drinking the last of his whiskey once more and slamming the glass down on the table beside him. He was silent for a moment and when he spoke again it was now the sound of a broken man. "I believed her, Amir…at first. She was so convincing when I showed her the scars on my chest and back. She…she even touched them…kissed them…oh God, it all felt like the truth." He leaned forward and rested his forehead against his open palms. "She looked at me for all of ten seconds without flinching or pulling away. All I could think was what a sweet girl she was, so brave…so good. But then…then a look of horror set in and she was overcome, fainting dead away at the sight of me."
"Erik…this makes no sense," Amir argued, knowing that something was not right. Christine did not strike him as the squeamish type and while Erik was not a handsome man, his scars had healed well and they were nothing worth losing consciousness over…or so he thought. "You say she saw you and yet did not scream or cry? That she did not pull away...at first?"
"No…not at first," he whispered, recalling the feeling of euphoria that had quickly been followed by despair. "But even she could not continue the charade and the moment she got a look at my full face, she blacked out."
"When she saw your full face?" Amir found this very odd. And if she could look upon Erik's ruined flesh that covered his torso, why could she not stomach the sight of his face? He was about to question Erik further when there was a knock at the door and his housekeeper, Mable, poked her head inside.
"Begging your pardon, sir, but there is a gentleman here asking for Mr. Morant." She let her eyes drift questioningly towards the sullen looking man beside her employer. "I was unsure what to tell him, so I asked him to wait in the foyer."
"Who is it, did he give his name?" Amir asked, unwilling to subject Erik to any inquisition at the moment.
"He said his name was Mr. Calloway, and that it was of vital importance that he find Mr. Morant quickly." Mable continued.
"Blake?" Erik asked, his head lifting and his eyes becoming bright and focused. "Show him in, immediately," Erik almost shouted.
Mable jumped at his command and scurried off to do as he directed.
"Your solicitor, Blake Calloway?" Amir asked, having met the man on several occasions and found him quite pleasant. "Wonder why he is looking for you here?"
"Probably because this is where I am?" Erik answered, a mocking tone in his words. "I hired the man for his keen mind and powers of deduction, not a pretty face."
Amir gave Erik a sour look and stood up as the slightly agitated man hurried into the room.
"Erik," Blake greeted, extending his hand and shaking Erik's in relief. "I am very pleased I was able to locate you. When your housekeeper said you were on an extended outing, I recalled that your friend lived nearby and after asking directions, found my way here with ease." He then looked over at Amir and gave him a polite nod. "I appreciate you allowing me to interrupt your visit this way. It is very rude of me but I assure you, sir, my news could not wait."
"No need to apologize, it is quite all right," Amir said, turning to Mable, who was still hovering in the doorway. "Please bring us some tea and refreshments. Mr. Calloway looks parched."
"That I am," the solicitor agreed, but then looked over at the half empty bottle of whiskey next to where Erik sat. "However, I would be ever so grateful for a glass of that, over the tea."
Erik was quick to respond and poured the man a few fingers full in a clean glass, handing it to him as he took it with a shaking hand. Once he had downed the contents, he handed it back to Erik, a pleading look in his eyes telling him he could use a bit more.
"So what is so all fired important that you felt the need to hunt me down, Blake?" Erik asked, handing the man his second glass of the whiskey.
"I think we should sit down for this," Blake suggested. The three men then settled into the leather chairs, waiting for the man to continue. "I was in London last week, finishing up some business I had and while I was there I decided to look into that matter you had asked about."
"What matter?" Amir asked, having not been privy to the conversation his friend had with the man.
"I asked Blake to look into Christine's past," Erik explained quickly, waving his hand at his friend as if to silence him. "And what did you find?"
"More that I was bargaining for, that is for sure," Blake answered, taking another steadying drink. "The first day or so I looked up old newspaper articles about the incident, finding nothing more than had been reported by the police. Apparently Andrew and Kathryn Daae had been murdered during some burglary, or so they assumed, and there were never any leads as to who committed the crime. The household staff was killed as well and the only one found alive had been their young daughter, Christine. Yet with a severe head injury that affected her memory, she was of no help in solving the case, leaving it to soon be dropped due to lack of evidence. This however was all public knowledge, nothing that anyone could not have read in the papers, so I decided to ask around. I have a few contacts that are often privy to the more shady side life, if you take my meaning."
"I understand," Erik nodded. "And were they able to offer you more insight on the matter?"
"Quite a bit more," Blake nodded. "It would appear that Christine's father, Andrew Daae, has a brother named Maximilian. As the younger son, Max inherited only a small portion of the estate and fortune when their father died and apparently he was not very pleased about this. My sources say that he is a chronic gambler and squandered what little he had on women and booze. Soon he was destitute and owed a lot of money to some very shady men, one of them being the infamous Simon Radcliff."
"Radcliff?" Erik's eyes grew wide and his hands clenched at the mention of that name.
"Yes, Simon Radcliff is a very powerful man in society, and a highly respected Lord," Blake told Erik, unaware of the history the two men shared. "But what you might not know, is that his family has been linked with some of the most underhanded and sinister crimes you have ever heard of …unfortunately no one has ever been able to prove this."
"Oh I can just imagine," Erik muttered, his anger barely controlled at this point.
"Anyway, it would appear that only days after Andrew Daae's death, Max took over all his brother's holdings, making him quite a wealthy man," he said, turning to Erik with a regretful look. "Rich enough it seems, to pay off his debts to Radcliff and any other lowlife about to put a hit on him for failure to pay. However, even this money did not last long under his frivolous management and it was suspected that he further embezzled much of the money that had been set aside for his niece when she came of age. The selfish bastard never even took the poor little girl to his home after her parents died, instead choosing to hide her away in some convent school, or so they told me."
"Your sources were correct," Erik nodded. "Christine had come directly to Summercrest from the school the day before our wedding. And now her miserable uncle is neck deep in business with my father…and I think we all know how that will end up."
"Yes, well, your father is not known for keeping partners too long, at least not after he bleeds them dry and they become useless to him," Blake agreed with a shake of his head. "I have to say, I will rest easier at night when you have fulfilled your contract with that devil and have the deed to Summercrest in your hands, Erik."
"I will as well," he nodded. "Yet please continue, what else did you learn about my wife's past?"
"Well, after learning this bit of information I began to look into the connections Maximillian had with Radcliff years ago," Mr. Calloway explained. "From what I have heard, Max Daae is not exactly known for his brains, so I doubt that he orchestrated this hit alone. Word on the street was that he had offered Radcliff a cut of the money he would inherit if he did away with his brother and his family. But as you know, something went wrong and Christine survived the attack, leaving Max legally responsible for her care and keeping until she turned eighteen." He looked over at Erik questioningly. "I know the papers said she retained no memories of that fateful night but was there nothing Christine could tell you about the incident? Nothing at all?"
"Nothing concrete, though she has been having dreams of it for some time." Erik sat back in his chair and was lost in thought for a moment or two. "She related what she recalled to me and while she was able to confirm that there were several men there that night, she has yet to visualize a face, but she now remembers their voices."
"Well, that is a start," Blake nodded. "I would do all I could to encourage her to dig deep into her memory and learn the truth before it is too late."
"Too late?" Erik asked, his eyes narrowing suspiciously. "What do you mean by that?"
"Well after a few days of digging I began to get the funny feeling I was being watched," the solicitor gave a visible shudder as he recalled the eerie sensation he had experienced that first evening, walking down the dark street alone. "I was heading back to my hotel and the hairs on the back of my neck stood on end, making me look back to see if I was being followed. I saw no one, but just to be safe I ducked inside an alcove on the street as soon as I turned a corner and waited. Sure enough two unsavory characters came around the bend and stopped dead when they no longer could see me, then they split up as if going in search of where I went. Now my first thought was that they had intended on robbing me, nothing more, but the following day I managed to catch a glimpse of the same two men tailing me once again. I evaded them a second time, or so I thought, but later when I returned to my room, it had been ransacked, papers and clothes tossed everywhere." He sat forward and looked directly at Erik. "I don't scare easy, my friend but even I know that I am no match for the likes of Simon Radcliff and his goons. So I packed my things and high-tailed it out of London and back here as quickly as I could to warn you. None of this can be proven in a court of law and it appears that whoever is behind it covered their tracks very well. No evidence means no trial, and no trial means no conviction."
"If Simon Radcliff dares to threaten my wife and family, then by God, there will be no need for a trial," Erik growled. "For I will sentence him to death personally, acting as judge, jury and executioner!"
"Well," Blake said, sitting back with a shocked look on his face. "As your friend I agree with you one hundred percent…however, as your lawyer, I am going to pretend I never heard you say that."
"Probably best you didn't," Erik agreed. "But I thank you for your troubles in looking into the matter. If there were any expenses or damage incurred during your sleuthing, I will see that you are reimbursed."
"Oh don't worry," Blake said with a sly grin on his face. "I have already sent you the bill."
"Of course you did," Erik said, a slight smile spreading across his lips for the first time in days.
"Well then, now that I have delivered my news, I will take my leave," Blake announced, rising to his feet and downing the last of his whiskey.
"It is getting late, Mr. Calloway, might I convince you to stay the night?" Amir asked, standing as well.
"I thank you for your hospitality, Mr. Dessan," Blake said gratefully. "But I have booked a room at the local inn and I left all my belongings there. I sent word to my wife that I would be home before dark tomorrow, so I want to make an early start of it." The two men walked him to the door, passing an irritated looking Mable on the way as she entered carrying the tray Amir had requested earlier. After donning his coat and hat, Blake turned back to Erik and gave him a serious look. "Be very careful Erik, I do not trust Simon Radcliff any further than I can throw him. It might be best for you to let this one lie. You have a beautiful wife and from what I saw the last time we spoke, you two have the potential of being very happy together. Perhaps you should count your blessings and not go digging around in the past. You might just stir up a pit of snakes that should best be left sleeping."
"I will take your advice into consideration," he promised, shaking Blake's hand warmly before he watched him head out into the night.
"Do you think that Radcliff truly had something to do with the death of Christine's parents?" Amir asked, this news making his head swim over the possibility.
"I would not put anything past that vile man," Erik stated, turning away and heading for the stairs. "Blake has never steered me wrong before and I trust his word and findings."
"Well he was spot on about one thing," Amir nodded, crossing his arms and looking at his retreating friend sternly.
"And what might that be?" Erik asked, stopping at the foot of the stairs to turn and stare at him.
"That you and Christine could be very happy together," he stated. "If only you would set aside your suspicions and theories and talk things out with the girl. Let her explain her actions to you."
"Her actions were more than clear!" Erik barked, gripping the railing of the staircase fiercely. "She does not love or want me in any way shape or form. Most certainly not the way I desire her!"
"That is not what I gathered from the way she spoke to you in the carriage that night," Amir returned, not backing down in the face of Erik's fury. "I might have been drunk out of my mind but even I can recognize passion when I see it…or hear it."
"Well, if it was ever there, it is gone now," Erik spoke sadly, turning away and heading up the stairs. "I am going to bed. Don't hold breakfast for me…I will rise when I am good and ready."
"You are a damned fool, Erik Morant!" Amir hollered after Erik as he disappeared into his room, shutting the door behind him. "A damned fool!"
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Yep, you got THAT right Amir!
Well drat...things do not look good here. BUT...you need not fret for long - they will work things out toot-sweet AND I have a really FUN way for them to do it! You will be entertained...I hope. In all honesty, I just needed them apart long enough for Christine to get over her newly started period. ha ha! What a bother! But in the meantime, I have some very good and fun plot lines that will be implemented. So ENJOY their brief separation!
Loving all the reviews! Thank you all for saying such nice things about those three painful chapters. I am glad I did not offend anyone.