Meg woke a few hours later lying on his chest, she pushed herself up and finally scanned the low lit room. It was grander than it once was, which seemed impossible if you saw the previous decor. The large room mimicked the drawing room with the mahogany wood runner, the wallpaper was different with a pretty light pink Meg adorned with painted baroque details. Another set of slightly mahogany double doors opened the room. To the right, a fireplace with its own set of deep red loveseats like the ones in the drawing room.
A few steps away was the step to the large bed with matching nightstands made of mahogany and gold gilded details. Both with tall matching kerosene lamps and flowers. There were no windows, but drapes, some a pretty, very detailed cream lace. Some a green velvet. They hung from the ceiling on the wall behind the bed in multiple panels, sweeping up and down in different places to make it seem carefree. Two panels of green ones hung behind a large circle mirror over the fireplace.
To the left side of the room from the doors, the wall was flat until the wall turned at an angle for a door at the step. After the step, on the same level as the bed, the wall made three point nook in the wall. In the nook was a grand dressing table that matched the nightstands.. The top and pink marble. The little stool matched the loveseats. The room was filled with jewel tones, pink, and gold. A strict parallel to the silver and blues that once covered the large space.
The level on the step had a big rug from wall to the nook. The bed they laid on was big, much bigger than she had seen before. Four posters held up a roof with moulding. Red velvet hung from the inside of the roof and hung down around each poster. Piles of soft pink, red, and dark pillows with many working patterns kept them comfortable. Many of the decorative ones made it on the floor during the night.
Glamorous indeed, he spoiled her. She went to the room on the right side by the fireplace she remembered was the bathroom. The same runner ran around the last few feet of the room, above the same pink as the rest of the room. It was fitted with all the appliances of a very rich man for the time. Common middle class families rarely had these tubs and showers fitted into their homes. He spoke to her when she closed the door on her way out.
"Do you like the room?"
"Is this my surprise?"
"Yes. Stop!" She stopped in her tracks and he made her close her eyes and put on the red pants before disappearing into the room on the left.
Coming back from what she assumed was a closet he told her to hold up her arms and he put on a fancy, thin, and soft nightgown then walked behind her and put something luxurious on her arms and over her shoulders like a dressing gown. "Keep them closed." She giggled at him as he buttoned the front. It was heavy but felt so lovely. He held her hands and walked her to where she could see herself in the mirror above the mantle place and told her to open her eyes.
She now wore an emerald velvet wrapper dress, slightly grander than a dressing gown, but not suitable for going out. It was more for meals with husbands and children. Meg couldn't help but pose for him, she giggled as he swept her up into his arms. She held him off from kissing her.
"So what are you doing? First you make me furious, then you shower me pretty things. What do you expect?"
"Is a man not allowed to shower his bride?" He looked at her a little odd. "My bride." He kissed her in a way that made her head spin. Erik let her go and went back into the closet. When he returned he kneeled in front of her like any theatrical man would propose.
"Forgive me for not doing this in the proper manner the first time. Will you marry me?" He held her hand and she smiled lovingly to him. She echoed her words from the first time.
"Forever and always, my love." He put a ring she didn't even look at onto her finger and she knelt down to kiss him.
Meg soon found herself on the carpet one leg propped up and Erik on top of her. In his kisses that trailed down her neck. She turned her head toward the door with heavy eyes, he kept himself busy with kissing her decolletage and his hands openly roamed over her body up to her breast. In what felt like slow motion the door opened, before she could see who it was she turned away with a yelp. Erik looked to the door to find his 'friend' with a purely shocked look on his face.
"Forgive me." She barely heard the man's voice or him closing the door. Erik left her quickly to follow him out with rage. She flinched as the door slammed. Meg laid half on her side, her arms propped her up. Her fingers clutched the carpet as she came down from the panic of the thought of her mother opening the door. Meg knew her mother had been in his home before, she had the capacity to do so.
Meg heard the yells of her lover in a language she knew wasn't French, nothing from the other man she only saw a glimpse of. She stood and fixed her hair with her hands and smoothed the dress. Eriks yells were angry, if she didn't go out there who knows what he'd do to the poor man. After calming herself she opened the door only to shrink back when she closed it at the sound of something being thrown.
She made no qualms with the lack of dress, she was a dancer, and he had already seen her in an intimate state. Softly walking down the hall to see the man she recognized from the steps of the opera just hours ago sitting on the chair opposite the loveseat. Meg walked down the little steps and to the loveseat in question and put her hands on the back. Erik was gone. She gave the very familiar man a smile.
Just as the man she couldn't yet place was about to speak another door slammed. She turned around to face Erik. He was now fully clothed and the punjab lasso was in his hands. He tried to walk right past her but she grabbed the lasso right out of his hand. Now he would regret telling her how to tie one because she undid the rope as she spoke to him.
"Do you care to introduce us?" She looked at her hands messing with the rope. Meg then looked up into his seething eyes. "Dear." She added like the chit he knew she could be. The well dressed man watched with wonder. In the ghosts past the little blonde would be in the lasso. Erik rolled his eyes, threw his tall body onto the throne with great annoyance, and ignored his bride.
"Are you two friends?" Meg was trying to make sense of the situation.
"No!"
"Yes." The two men said at the same time. She walked around the loveseat and stopped when she realized just why she knew him. Meg turned to the man with a ballet rats delight.
"You're the man who sits in box seven." The Daroga nodded his head with a bit of confusion. "You are almost as much of a star as the opera ghost to us girls in the corps de ballet." She quickly turned back into a ballet rat ready to run to La Sorelli. Erik laughed at the thought of Meg running to Little Jammes after giving a note to Monsieur Reyes screaming that 'The Persian is here!' Meg looked at Erik laughing maniacally.
"Ah yes! You girls dance for my dear Daroga!" She shrunk a little at the awkwardness of the situation. He could be such a brute. The man raised his thick brow at the comment. "Little Meg and her friends with no one to dance for pick a patron and secretly dance for him." Meg turned her head from the wall to him and her expression hardened at the way he spoke of her and her friends. She felt the early signs of tears, Erik never spoke of her that way.
"That is flattering. I will remember that next time." The still nameless man tried to ease the tension with nicity. He looked back and forth at the eyes of his friend and the blonde. The couple held each other's eyes, daring the other to speak. Meg stood up quickly, stopping before she walked away to gauge Erik's reaction. The other man stood as any Victorian gentleman. Without another word she turned away to go back to the Pink room.
Closing the door she leaned back and laid her head back on the door. Two quick tears left her eyes. Meg held her hands on her face for a bit, then made for the bed. After a while of lying in silence she assumed they were talking, or sitting in silence. Who was that man? How did he know Erik? Clearly he was close enough to him to just come into his home.
Meg finally got to inspect the ring. She figured Erik enjoyed her Green for it was a circle cut emerald. Rose colored gold, a metal she knew was popular for the time, made a simple band and an edge like lace surrounded the stone. She laid on her back sprawled on the bed and held her hand over her face. The pretty piece glittered with the kerosene lamp behind her.
After some time, the door opened without her knowledge. He watched her stare at her hand until she turned toward the pillows and hug one of them. Erik walked to her, she still didn't notice him even though he wasn't trying to be quiet. Little streams of tears fell again. She flinched and made a little gasp when she felt the weight of his knee on the bed.
He touched her waist and she wanted to turn to him and embrace him for comfort as she usually did. Keeping her ground she kept herself from doing exactly as her body longed to do. She turned to her back and looked up at his masked face. A slightly hurtful sight to her now that they were alone. She reached up and tapped its surface for him to take off. He set it on the closest nightstand, and looked back at her face she had the same stoic look and hurt in her eyes.
"I know you to be villainous, but to be wicked to me now is frightening." He looked down at her face.
"Forgive me."
"I've forgiven you for a lot. To speak like that to me in front of a stranger."
"He's not a stranger."
"He is to me." Erik leant down to kiss her cheek.
"I know now." He switched to the other cheek. "I will be better next time. I am not a fan to treating you like an enemy because another made me angry." Erik wrapped his arms even more around her waist and made to kiss her lips. "A tyrant Erik is." She let his charms overpower her for a few kisses. "Disagreeable man I am." Meg snapped out of his charms when she felt his hair on her fingers. She turned her face from him
"You can't do this to me every time I'm angry with you." He held her tighter.
"La Marguerite how do you suppose I keep myself from kissing you?" Erik kissed her jaw. "Something I want to do." He moved and kissed her under her ear. "Often."
"I'm La Marguerite to you now? Not Little Meg?"
"Meg. Little Meg. Little Giry. Marguerite. My love. La Marguerite. You are everything to me, Marguerite Giry. I hate to see you so."
"Don't make me so." He stood up and held out his arms to her.
"Would you like to see the other things I had made for you dear." Meg gave in and he led her to the closest he got the wrapper from. It was different from the rest of the house. Light pink paint with gold gilding on the moulding of the cabinets and walls. Little details in a dark green paint covered the doors of the cabinets.
He opened the doors of cabinets to show mostly wrapper and dressing gowns. Then some day dress in multiple sections and the most beautiful evening gowns. She felt the fine fabric of dresses, shirtwaists, skirts, capes, and stoles. Everything a fine lady of the day needed. Jewelry sat on a velvet lined tray and hats hung on little head forms like a shop around a full body mirror. Everything was just wonderful.
"Everythings beautiful. Really, thank you."
"All this and more. For you, my bride." She giggled and his bright, boyish smile and happy attitude. Meg stopped his kisses and held him away from her.
"I don't need these things to be your bride. Just your love… and the kindness I know you can give me. That's all." She assured him with all her heart. Without another word he kissed her again in a way that made her head spin.
"You have my love."
"Just as you have mine." She laid her head on his chest. After just holding each other Erik began to hum. The sound made Meg too happy to speak. He hummed a popular waltz Meg couldn't remember the name of. Erik danced her right out of the closet with merriment.
"I just remembered. That man, Dear Daroga you called him. Is that his name, Daroga? What did he want?"
"Daroga is his title, chief of police in Persia. That is all I ever call him, a pet name. He said he came to 'Check on my well being.'
"That's nice of him. Why did he leave?"
"Because I wanted to be alone with you."
"You don't have to make people leave on my account. I'm here all day, unless you want me to go that is."
"Never." He said into her neck again and again. "Something to eat?"
"I'd like that."