Disclaimer: More of the same!

Chapter Forty-Nine

Erik arrived at the Laurent house and Guillaume announced his presence. Monsieur and Madame Laurent were just sitting down to a late lunch. "Erik!" Monsieur Gregoire exclaimed, rising from his dining chair. "We didn't expect to see you today…well, at least not until supper time! How are you and your lovely new wife this fine day?"

Erik smiled proudly. "We are both quite well, thank you. I just stopped by to let you know that we will be traveling to Perros-Guirec by train today, and expect to be there for a week. Here is the information for where we will be staying." He handed Monsieur Laurent the address for their lodging. "If there is any sort of emergency, I hope that you will not hesitate to contact us."

"Of course," Monsieur Gregoire responded, taking the handwritten note from Erik. "Perros, hmmm? The sea is quite lovely there. I hope that you both enjoy your honeymoon."

Madame Suzette chimed in. "Have either of you been to Bretagne before?"

"Christine has, actually," Erik replied. "She and her father used to spend summers there. She's very excited to see it again after so many years."

"I see," she responded, smiling, as Amêlie entered the room in her wheelchair, looking vibrant in a saffron-colored dress, her chestnut hair braided neatly.

"Monsieur Erik!" she grinned broadly when she saw him. "What on earth are you doing here? And where is Madame Christine?"

Erik bowed to her and smiled. "I have come to let you know that we will be traveling for a week. I hope that you will be ready to begin piano lessons again when we return," he winked. "And perhaps, Christine would be willing to give you some vocal lessons, as well, if you wish...only to enhance your natural ability, of course."

Amêlie clapped her slender hands in excitement. "Oh, yes! That would be wonderful! I will look forward to your return. God be with you both and keep you safe!"

"Thank you," Erik smiled as he walked over and knelt beside her, looking directly into her laughing blue eyes. "I will look forward to it as well, young songbird." He stood then and spoke his goodbyes, returning to the house to bathe. Upon entering, Christine was dressed in a comfortable russet-colored frock that accented her eyes and had fixed her hair into a neat chignon.

"Hello there," she said happily as he entered the bedroom. "I think that I am almost packed. By the time you finish with your bath, I should be ready to go," she said with confidence.

"Really? Well, that would truly amaze me, mon amour," he said, his eyes sparkling with merriment. Christine was certain that she had never seen him so cheery and upbeat before. He's happy now, she thought with amazement. I make him happy. The fact that she could make such a difference in this man's life was astonishing to her. She treasured this knowledge in her heart, and prayed that she would never cease to bring him joy.

Erik bathed quickly, and Christine thought that perhaps he was hastening just to compete with her…he had to know that she could not finish packing in just five minutes! She hurriedly threw her remaining items into the last bag and closed it, fumbling with the clasps. She was primping her hair when he came out of the lavatory, and whirled around to see him come out wrapped below his waist with a large and fluffy white towel, still slightly damp from the waist up. He wore no wig, and his hair was wet and hanging in his eyes. At first, she wanted to laugh at his slightly disheveled appearance, but then…she felt a blush creep upward to her cheeks, turning her back to him again when he met her gaze.

Erik noticed her reaction and he slicked his hair back, striding in with a slight swagger. "So," he said abruptly, "were you able to finish packing, ma cherie?" He grinned mischievously, and she knew that she had been correct in her prior assumptions.

"You were purposely rushing, weren't you?" she scolded him, glancing over her shoulder. "You are just horrible, Erik! I really am doing the best I can, you know!"

He laughed heartily. "Now, Christine, you know I'm only teasing you. Don't be upset."

"I'm not upset," she remarked, glaring at him dramatically. "Now you're the one who will be making us late. You'd best get dressed now." Married less than a day, and here I am, sounding every bit the nagging wife!

Erik smirked as he turned from her and opened the mahogany wardrobe. Finding all of his clothing, he promptly dropped his towel to the floor. Christine heard its soft landing on the rug and fought to keep her eyes on her luggage…unsuccessfully. She felt almost ashamed of herself, until she remembered that he was hers now, as she was his. Surely, over time, we will grow accustomed to seeing each other, and I won't blush every time I look at him!

Within moments, he was completely dressed, with everything in place except for his mask. Christine raised her eyebrows in question, just as he reached into a drawer and retrieved a skin-colored mask much like his usual white one. He put it on his face, and Christine was amazed at the change. He looks almost…normal, she thought. She eyed him critically, not quite certain of how his new appearance made her feel. Erik felt her gaze boring into him and sighed. "It's less conspicuous, mon ange…and I will also be under the cowl of my cloak. Unfortunately, you must conceal yourself as well. If anyone were to see you with me and recognize you, they could grow suspicious…and we could both be in danger." He attempted a smile to lighten the ominous tone of his words. "Let me fetch the carriage. I'll come back for the bags." After another quarter of an hour, everything was loaded into the Laurent carriage, and they set out for the train station.

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The train rumbled over the tracks with the steady rhythm of a metronome. Lost in thought, Christine stared out at the rapidly passing landscape from beneath her hooded cloak. Perros-Guirec, she thought with trepidation. I don't want to ruin this trip for Erik, but surely I must tell him….

Erik cleared his throat, startling Christine, who jumped slightly in her seat. He studied her curiously. "Mon ange, are you alright?" he whispered from beneath his cloak, his face visible only to her.

She hesitated for a moment before answering. "Yes," she said, forcing a smile.

Erik frowned. "No, you aren't. Tell me what's troubling you, my darling," he said softly, laying his new book down across from him and scooting closer to take her in his arms.

"I suppose I'm a bit nervous. Perros holds many memories for me, Erik. Some of them are painful to remember, and others are happy. I am excited to see it again…but I am also a little afraid." Her forehead was creased with lines of worry, and her lower lip trembled as she spoke.

He traced her cheek lightly with his finger. "There is nothing to fear there, Christine. Memories cannot hurt you…not if you don't let them." He set his mouth in a firm line. "We will make new memories there, together," he stated, with a determined air.

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Through the dead of night, Erik kept watch while Christine slept on the train. He had attempted to read for a while, but he found that the steady clicking of the train across the tracks was lulling him into a slumber. He had abandoned the idea hours before, sitting erect, his arms supporting his wife as she dreamed fitfully. He watched her with concern, and prayed silently that their honeymoon would not be ruined with unwelcome recollections of past grief.

It was in the wee hours of the morning when they arrived at Lannion, and the train hissed to a stop. The night was clear and calm, and the stars seemed to shine more brightly there without the distractions afforded by Paris nightlife. "Darling, we need to get off now," Erik whispered to Christine, shaking her gently to wake her.

"Hmm? Oh…did I sleep all night, Erik?"

"No, it's only about two in the morning. We need to collect our things and get a cab. Come," he said, gently lifting her from her seat.

They felt very fortunate to find a cab at such an odd hour of the morning, and had to share it with an elderly couple who was also traveling to Perros. Christine smiled politely at them, trying not to appear conspicuous, while Erik pretended to sleep on her shoulder, keeping his face concealed for the entire ride. Christine watched the other couple with fascination as they held hands contentedly. Will it be that way for us when we grow old? she wondered, inching a bit closer to her husband as she did so.

When they arrived at Perros, the older couple was let off first at an inn, and both Erik and Christine sighed with relief. The driver asked directions to their destination and Erik called out the address of the villa to him, hoping that the man would know where it was located. Apparently, he was familiar with the address, because he set out promptly. Erik paid the man generously when they arrived, glad that the darkness was still surrounding them and that the driver could not see his masked face. "Well, mon ange," Erik stated as the cab pulled away, "we are here at last. Our home away from home for the next several days." He smiled as he admired the quaint white villa, glowing in the moonlight. It was set atop a small hill overlooking the waters below. This is actually a well-built house, he thought, a bit surprised. He noticed that the beach was only a mile or so away, and looked forward to the chilly evenings when they could light the fireplace…much like this evening, he realized, suddenly feeling the cold seeping into his bones...an all too familiar sensation. "It's no castle, but surely it will do."

"It's really lovely," Christine replied, studying the villa. "Shall we go inside? I am feeling rather drowsy again, I'm afraid."

Erik located the key where the owner had said that it would be and unlocked the door, pleased to find that everything had been made ready for their stay. The kitchen was fully stocked, and even the bed had been turned down. They quickly settled in, undressing and settling into bed for what was left of the night.

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"It's alright, I'll go and fetch your scarf out of the sea," he said, his eyes a sparkling blue that crinkled at the outer corners when he smiled.

"No! Don't!" she cried, the wind blowing her auburn hair into her face so that she suddenly couldn't see.

"It's alright, I'll get it!" the young boy shouted, running into the sea, his voice sounding more and more distant.

She pushed the hair out of her face. "Please, please, don't go out there! You'll…you'll drown! You won't ever come back! Don't go!" she cried hysterically.

The boy refused to listen. Soon he was so far into the sea that she could no longer make out his shape in the reflecting light from the water. Suddenly, she heard a solo violin in the distance, its haunting sound traveling toward her, swirling around her like an array of leaves chased by the wind. She began to cry. "Papa! Papa! Where are you?"

There was no answer, but the violin played on and on until she was weeping with her face on the grass. "Papa! You've left me! I know that you're gone…and now the little boy is gone, too, and I am all alone!" she called out, pushing herself up at last and lifting her eyes to the surreal azure sky.

"No, you're not alone," said a melodic voice from behind her. She was somehow unable to turn and see the owner of the voice, but she knew immediately that she was safe. Suddenly, the violin grew louder, nearer, and with it came the voice again, this time singing…but she couldn't make out the words, to her frustration. "Oh, to always hear that voice. It is the voice of an angel!" At last, the voice whispered her name. "Christine." She shivered, and was compelled once again to seek out the source of the voice. To her delight, she found that she was no longer immobile, turning slowly, deliberately. She expected to see the face of the one she loved…her Angel of Music, the one who had come to her in dreams and sang to her in sleep…but when she turned, she again saw familiar blue eyes on a man--no longer a boy, but fully grown-- smiling at her.

"You? But…but you're not…"

"No, Christine, but I'm the one that you should be with. I'm the one who shared this place with you…and you will regret one day what you've done." He said this, smiling absurdly the entire time he spoke, eerily unblinking. "One day, Christine."

"No. No!" she shouted at him, balling her hands into fists. "Never! I will never regret it!"

"Christine? Christine, darling…mon ange, wake up!" Erik's voice called out to her, and she awoke with a feeling of dread. The heaviness was like a cloak around her heart, nearly convincing her that her soul had left her body to travel to another time and place.

"Erik!" she cried, throwing her arms around his neck and pulling him so close that she could feel his heartbeat. "I…I had a nightmare. It was horrible…" she closed her eyes tightly, gripping him as if she feared he would fade from existence at any moment.

"What was it, Christine?" he asked softly, rubbing her back. "I know that so often dreams can seem real…but they cannot hurt you."

I shouldn't tell him…he might not understand, and he may be angered by it. "It…it was only a dream, Erik. I'd rather not discuss it further right now…I just can't."

"Alright," he replied, much to her surprise. He knew by the expression on her face that she meant it…she wasn't ready to confide in him yet. He changed the subject quickly, marveling at his own control. In the past, surely I would have commanded her to share her dream with me right here and now…and it likely would have been a mistake. "It's nearly ten o'clock now…we should get dressed and go out for a while, mon ange. The fresh air might help to clear your head. Here in Perros, they won't likely recognize you or suspect you to be with a fleeing criminal, so you won't need to cover yourself so completely anymore." He smiled, and Christine noticed a tinge of wistfulness in his look. She immediately understood.

"But you will," she said sadly. "Why must you be resigned to a life hidden among the shadows, my love? I wish that you were free to walk about in daylight as anyone else, without fear." She could feel the anger rising within her, and tears of frustration threatened to spill from her glistening eyes.

"No, Christine, don't…it isn't worth it. Save your tears for a proper time…we are on our honeymoon, ma belle femme, and I intend to enjoy myself with you, no matter what the world may think." He kissed her forehead. "Come, let's get ready."

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A/N: I completely forgot to thank all of you who reviewed at the end of Chapter 47, so I thank you now. I appreciate that you "come out of the woodwork" when I need a bit of encouragement. I also appreciate the few of you who have reviewed the "wedding night" chapter. And to those of you from whom I have not heard, I would value any comments you have. On average, I'd say that less than 5 of my readers are reviewing at all. I wonder, is this typical? I do allow for anonymous reviews, as you can see if you've been to my review page. You don't have to leave your email. Just don't flame me or spam me, please! –grins-

Well, a big thank you to those who are kind enough to drop me a quick line. It really, really means a lot to me, and it encourages me to see the little email that says "review." I love getting those…I don't know an author who doesn't. So please, review. I am trying to leave more myself when I read, because I know how much it means to an author. Perhaps some of you are waiting until the "end" to review, but I'll just let you know now that the end isn't coming anytime soon yet. So, I hope you'll enjoy the rest of the story…and it looks like there are over 100 of you, if the stats are correct. –waves to the largest audience that any of my fiction has ever had-- Thanks for reading!