A/N: If the website keeps this up, I'll be done with the story before I
get a chance to upload! Anyhow, how did you like chapter ten? Enough
suspense for you????
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Chapter 11: A House with a Picket Fence
It was hours later before Erik woke to the sound of insistent soft knocking at his dressing room door. With a slight moan, he began rolling over onto his stomach before the edge of the divan stopped his progress. Usually when he woke, he was immediately alert. Right now, he was somewhere between being oblivious and totally aware of his surroundings. He managed to grab a hold of the edge of the divan before he went falling over the side, and then opened his eyes. He realized that it was quite a bit warmer in the room than it had been early that morning, and he opened his eyes to find someone had come into his room during the day, and covered him with a woven blanket of thick, warm wool.
"Christine. . ." He murmured to himself with a half-smile, knowing she was the only person who would have thought of his comfort like that. When the incessant knocking did not stop at his door, he growled a moment, and then stood up. "All right already! Who is it?"
"It's me, Erik."
"Christine. . ." He murmured again, shaking his head to clear his mind of the rest of his sleep. Moving to the door, he quickly jerked it open to look out at her. She was smiling up at him brightly, a shawl wrapped about her shoulders. "What time is it?"
"It's nearly five o'clock, Erik." She said, making him take in a sharp breath. She giggled at his reaction. "I know you said you wanted to be there for the second half of rehearsals. But when I came to check in on you . . . you were sleeping so soundly, it would have been a pity to wake you. You desperately needed the sleep. I'm just here to wake you now, because I know you wouldn't want to keep the twins waiting."
Erik brought a hand up to rub at his eyes impatiently. Five o'clock! That was a whole day wasted! Yet he couldn't be upset at Christine for letting him sleep. She was right. He had needed the solid nine hours he'd gotten.
"Thank you, Cherie. . ." He sighed softly. "I do need to get going. I think you should come here extra early tomorrow. We need to catch up on a bit of lost time."
"I can't tomorrow, Erik." She replied quietly. "I'm very sorry. However much I adore your help and your lessons . . . Raoul wants me home until the latest possible moment tomorrow. I can't imagine why. I guess he plans on stopping by."
"All right." He turned, reaching out for his fedora, which he'd decided to wear that morning instead of the newer hats. "Might I escort you outside? I'll call you a cab."
"Thank you very much, Erik." She said genuinely. They walked along the corridors together in silence. Then, Erik remembered how he had kissed her earlier that day. She hadn't pulled away, but had not encouraged him either. She wondered why such a virtuous young woman would let any man who was not her beloved kiss her. Then again, she had kissed him once. . . but that had been a bribe to save Raoul's life. He would never forget that.
"I am very sorry for my behavior this morning, my dear." He finally managed to murmur as they stepped out into the late afternoon sunlight. Above their heads, the sky was beginning to turn a soft magenta, with swirls of brilliant orange and yellow where the light reflected off the clouds. "It is totally inexcusable."
"Don't you dare apologize, Erik." She scolded. "It is perfectly understandable. I don't suppose you stopped for one second to think I might have been even remotely flattered? It could have been anyone, but it was me."
"I don't recall you feeling flattered about my attentions three months ago." He said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. But he was in quite a good mood, and his tone was otherwise jovial. Christine smiled, shaking her head as he hailed a carriage for her. He helped her in, and then kissed her hand. "Just the same, I am never going to do such a thing again. I promise you."
"See you in rehearsal, Erik."
It was then he noticed that his name was almost always the last word she spoke. Yet it wasn't all that odd. Perhaps she simply found it the simplest way to end her sentences. Maybe she liked the sound of his name. He knew that he liked it. Especially coming from her lips. He waved as the carriage pulled away, and then turned to hail his own cab.
"Monsieur Erik! Wait!"
Sighing, he turned to look back up at the Opera House. Coming from the front doors was Madeline, wearing her battered old dress from her times of poverty, still covered in paint from her days work. She could often look ridiculous when her cheeks were smudged with paint. Especially a color that stood out, like bright red or pale blue. Yet today she came out surprisingly clean-faced. It was her dress that had been tortured.
"Madame, I have told you a dozen times not to call me Monsieur." He offered her a hand of greeting as she approached, and she slipped her small fingers into his palm. He leaned down in a slightly formal bow, and then continued to hail his carriage.
"I'm sorry, Erik." She laughed softly. "I just knew that calling you Monsieur would catch your attention! Are you going to see the Marguerite and Fleur now?"
"Yes." He admitted softly. "Would you like a ride?"
"Very much. I'm far too tired to walk." A cab pulled up to the sidewalk, and he helped her into the buggy, climbing in to sit across from her. It was a soft, cool evening, and the night time breezes were already starting. It would be winter in a few more weeks. He thought to himself that he had to find a proper home for Madeline and her family before then. That way he would feel reassured in their health and safety.
"How do you like your new job, then?" He finally broke the silence that had grown between them, and she smiled up at him happily.
"I couldn't be more pleased!" She said enthusiastically. "Thank you so much, again, for everything you've done. I can't imagine what would have happened had you not come along. I was a bit behind on my rent. The landlady probably would've put us all out by now."
"Oh, she doesn't seem like such a rough woman." Erik protested. "I'm sure she wouldn't have put you out just like that. She would've given you time to find a place you could better afford. Surely."
"Perhaps." Madeline agreed distractedly. "So . . . Marguerite keeps telling me that you have this big surprise in store for them tonight. Would you mind letting me in on it?"
"It's nothing so grand." He insisted. "I am going to take them to a bit of supper, and then . . . go apartment hunting with them. I thought they'd like to have an idea of the type of place they'll be living in." He looked at her for a long moment. " . . . Would you care to join us? You do, after all, have every say in the place you're going to make your new home."
She looked back at him for a long moment. They still hadn't gotten over their awkward acquaintance to becoming good friends. It was odd. Both found the other rather attractive, but certainly weren't interested in the other as a possible 'mate'. Madeline thought that Erik was far too young for her. Erik often chuckled when he would realize that. If only she knew how old he truly was!
"Here we are." He finally said softly, climbing down from the halted carriage to help her out. As he paid the cabby, he asked the man to wait, and then turned to follow Madeline up the stairs to her apartment door. Immediately, it swung open, and he found himself surrounded by pairs of arms. Even little Gerard, who was feeling extremely well since his bout of stomach aches, had toddled out onto the porch to hug his leg anxiously. Laughter of every pitch filled his ears, and it was one of the most beauteous sounds in the entire universe. Ah, the laughter of children!
"Papa!" Marguerite greeted eagerly, her hands clawing in the air to try and get him to pick her up. Fleur was doing the same, and Gerard simply clutched at Erik's pants leg before Madeline finally scooped him up into her arms. She was smiling sadly, and he understood guiltily that it was because she probably felt thrown over for him.
"Ah, ma petite angels!" He laughed, crouching down to hug either twin tightly. He kissed their cheeks and their hair, and they gave him hugs and kisses in return. Then, he stood up, urging them towards Madeline. They greeted their mother in obedience to his silent urging, and then turned right back around to tackle him.
"Papa, what's this surprise going to be?" Marguerite insisted pleadingly. "We've been waiting all afternoon!"
"I know, and you will soon find out." He promised. "Madeline. Would you like to bring your son with us, or leave him here with the landlady?"
"I'll bring him, if it wouldn't bother you too much." She replied, her voice crisp over the eager sounds of her children. Nodding, Erik turned to start heading downstairs, then paused to ruffle the hair on Gerard's tiny head. The boy giggled and reached up to catch his fingers, but missed. Then, laughing, Erik led everyone back down into the carriage.
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"I can't remember the last time I've had so much to eat." Madeline said quietly, leaning back on the cushioned seat of a fine little restaurant. Erik had known she would like the place, as undoubtedly it let her reminisce about her past as a wealthier young woman. The food was also delicious, and the other patrons and employees tolerated the presence of small children. "Erik, you spoil every one of us far too much." With this she looked down at her son, who was wearing a little toddlers tuxedo. It was one of the only new things Madeline had ever gotten him. Because she knew he would simply grow out of such fine clothes before long.
"I don't mind spoiling you." He laughed quietly, watching the little girls as they gorged themselves on a la mode. He remembered having always liked that particular desert the best. The hot apple pie, mixed with the taste and texture of freezing cold vanilla ice cream. . . it was something to experience. "Before you came along, the only person in the world I had to spoil was my cat. You should see her diamond collar."
He, of course, did not bother to tell them that he had stolen the mentioned collar from the Shah of Persia. That would be giving them too much information about his past. Information he was not going to give anyone. Perhaps not even Christine. She knew enough of his dark past as it was.
"Was this the surprise, Papa?" Marguerite piped up, looking up at him with a dirty little face that was sprinkled with just about everything she'd eaten that evening. In fact, Erik and Madeline were the only ones who didn't look the same way. Laughing, he picked up a napkin and reached across the table to wipe their angelic faces clean.
"No, ma petite. This is not all of the surprise." He said quietly.
"You mean there's even *more*?" She cried out in delight, and Madeline glanced around quickly to make sure no one overly disapproved of the noise they were making. Erik laughed again, and then waved over their waiter. The man brought them the check, and Erik paid for their supper where he sat.
"There is a little bit more, yes." He finally told everyone. "Shall we go? I want you all to see something." With that he winked at Madeline, and she looked at him in confusion. Seeing the look on her face, he laughed once more. Never had he laughed so much in his entire life. It was a sound and sensation he very much liked. It was so much better than the feeling of tears, unless they were tears of joy and happiness.
They all made their way outside, where Erik once again called for a carriage. This one was an open air carriage, as the children seemed to like that kind the best. And tonight was an exceptional night for them. They were able to look up at the stars as they rode through the city. The night was so clear and just the perfect temperature. Madeline and Marguerite spent the ride trying to pry Erik's secrets from him about where they were going. But he refused to say anything the entire way there.
Soon, they were pulling up in front of a beautiful town house only a block away from the Opera House. It had a lush, although small, lawn, and a picket fence all the way about it. The siding was a pale shade of blue, although it looked quite a dingy gray in the light of the night. It was two and a half stories tall (including an attic) and looked as though it had some twelve odd rooms in it. Most of the windows were lighted from the inside, signaling that someone had recently been there. As they climbed down from the carriage, everyone stared up at it in awe. Only Erik remained perfectly composed as he moved ahead of them to open the gate in front of the walk way, and head up to a wrap-around porch, up the sturdy wooden stairs, and to a beautiful door of dark maroon. When he realized he was still alone, he turned to smile at them on the sidewalk.
"Well then?" He called teasingly. "Don't just stand there! This is your home!"
Everyone gasped and squealed with shock and delight. The twins bolted up the front walk, almost tripping on the two steps that led to the porch. Erik drew a key out of his cloak pocket, and then opened the front door for them. Madeline followed the children more slowly, following with her little son in her arms.
"Erik . . . are you serious?" She asked nervously. "This place is enormous!"
"I am deadly serious, Madeline." He replied simply, pushing the front door open. Without even waiting, the children hurried in. As it was before mentioned, many rooms already had light in them. "I made arrangements so that someone would be here no more than twelve minutes before us, so that you could see it all in the light. Yet of course I asked them to leave before we arrived. I did not want them intruding on your discovery."
"But it must have cost you a fortune!" She almost reluctantly stepped into the front hallway to see a long staircase to the right of the space, leading up to the second story.
"Not as much as you might think." Erik replied gently, following her in, and closing the door behind him. "The place is already fully furnished, except for drapes, pillows, blankets, and the like. I thought you might wish to select those items. There are five bedrooms. . . I thought you might like to have a guest room . . . a library and study/living room/salon downstairs. A kitchen and dining room. Upstairs there is a large bathroom. Then there is the attic. Oh, I almost forgot to mention that there is also a pantry. In the back, there is a deck leading off of the master bedroom."
"How did you manage this?" Madeline asked, her voice nearly shrill. Madeline and Fleur were running about from room to room, laughing excitedly. Finally, Madeline put Gerard down, and let his sisters drag him upstairs with them. Erik smiled at her fondly.
"Madeline, I have my ways." He insisted. "That is all you need to know. Besides . . . I do have something small to ask of you in return."
She looked up at him in bewilderment.
"I would like to be able to stay in your guest room . . . You see my place is no longer adequate. I need better lodgings. If you don't mind hearing music here as well as at work - for you see I am a composer just as much as I am a singer - I would very much like to live here with your family. It's the children . . . you see. Every moment I am away from them is . . ."
"You're speaking like a father now." She whispered. "Is that truly all you want from me in return? You don't ask for rent, or anything of that sort?"
"If it would make you feel more at ease to pay me rent, Madeline, then by all means . . . But I will never require it of you. Not now, and not ever. I will never give you the boot because you cannot afford to pay me rent. I will never hurt you or your children."
"I still don't understand how or why, Erik." She whispered, tears standing in her eyes. "But thank you . . . this is so much more than we would ever have expected . . . so much more!"
On instinct, he reached out and gently pulled her into his arms, gently stroking her hair and making soft noises to sooth her. He understood that she was crying out of joy and gratitude. No doubt she was overwhelmed with all that was happening. He couldn't say he blamed her.
When he'd found the house at such an astonishingly cheap price, he'd thanked his lucky stars above. He knew that they were selling it so cheap because the family who had once owned it was anxious to be rid of the terrible memories of a sudden death which had occurred there, and they hadn't cared about price. Yet the fact that someone had died there meant nothing to him. He had caused enough death in his life to not be phased in the least. He was only happy to be doing this for the family he thought deserved everything that he had to give, and more. He wanted Marguerite and Fleur, and Gerard, to have the best of the world. He was going to give that to them, no matter what the price!
"Come . . . let me show you around, Madeline. Tonight, while you rest here, I will go and settle matters with your landlady. I will also see to it that all your personal possessions are packed and brought to you here by morning."
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Chapter 11: A House with a Picket Fence
It was hours later before Erik woke to the sound of insistent soft knocking at his dressing room door. With a slight moan, he began rolling over onto his stomach before the edge of the divan stopped his progress. Usually when he woke, he was immediately alert. Right now, he was somewhere between being oblivious and totally aware of his surroundings. He managed to grab a hold of the edge of the divan before he went falling over the side, and then opened his eyes. He realized that it was quite a bit warmer in the room than it had been early that morning, and he opened his eyes to find someone had come into his room during the day, and covered him with a woven blanket of thick, warm wool.
"Christine. . ." He murmured to himself with a half-smile, knowing she was the only person who would have thought of his comfort like that. When the incessant knocking did not stop at his door, he growled a moment, and then stood up. "All right already! Who is it?"
"It's me, Erik."
"Christine. . ." He murmured again, shaking his head to clear his mind of the rest of his sleep. Moving to the door, he quickly jerked it open to look out at her. She was smiling up at him brightly, a shawl wrapped about her shoulders. "What time is it?"
"It's nearly five o'clock, Erik." She said, making him take in a sharp breath. She giggled at his reaction. "I know you said you wanted to be there for the second half of rehearsals. But when I came to check in on you . . . you were sleeping so soundly, it would have been a pity to wake you. You desperately needed the sleep. I'm just here to wake you now, because I know you wouldn't want to keep the twins waiting."
Erik brought a hand up to rub at his eyes impatiently. Five o'clock! That was a whole day wasted! Yet he couldn't be upset at Christine for letting him sleep. She was right. He had needed the solid nine hours he'd gotten.
"Thank you, Cherie. . ." He sighed softly. "I do need to get going. I think you should come here extra early tomorrow. We need to catch up on a bit of lost time."
"I can't tomorrow, Erik." She replied quietly. "I'm very sorry. However much I adore your help and your lessons . . . Raoul wants me home until the latest possible moment tomorrow. I can't imagine why. I guess he plans on stopping by."
"All right." He turned, reaching out for his fedora, which he'd decided to wear that morning instead of the newer hats. "Might I escort you outside? I'll call you a cab."
"Thank you very much, Erik." She said genuinely. They walked along the corridors together in silence. Then, Erik remembered how he had kissed her earlier that day. She hadn't pulled away, but had not encouraged him either. She wondered why such a virtuous young woman would let any man who was not her beloved kiss her. Then again, she had kissed him once. . . but that had been a bribe to save Raoul's life. He would never forget that.
"I am very sorry for my behavior this morning, my dear." He finally managed to murmur as they stepped out into the late afternoon sunlight. Above their heads, the sky was beginning to turn a soft magenta, with swirls of brilliant orange and yellow where the light reflected off the clouds. "It is totally inexcusable."
"Don't you dare apologize, Erik." She scolded. "It is perfectly understandable. I don't suppose you stopped for one second to think I might have been even remotely flattered? It could have been anyone, but it was me."
"I don't recall you feeling flattered about my attentions three months ago." He said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. But he was in quite a good mood, and his tone was otherwise jovial. Christine smiled, shaking her head as he hailed a carriage for her. He helped her in, and then kissed her hand. "Just the same, I am never going to do such a thing again. I promise you."
"See you in rehearsal, Erik."
It was then he noticed that his name was almost always the last word she spoke. Yet it wasn't all that odd. Perhaps she simply found it the simplest way to end her sentences. Maybe she liked the sound of his name. He knew that he liked it. Especially coming from her lips. He waved as the carriage pulled away, and then turned to hail his own cab.
"Monsieur Erik! Wait!"
Sighing, he turned to look back up at the Opera House. Coming from the front doors was Madeline, wearing her battered old dress from her times of poverty, still covered in paint from her days work. She could often look ridiculous when her cheeks were smudged with paint. Especially a color that stood out, like bright red or pale blue. Yet today she came out surprisingly clean-faced. It was her dress that had been tortured.
"Madame, I have told you a dozen times not to call me Monsieur." He offered her a hand of greeting as she approached, and she slipped her small fingers into his palm. He leaned down in a slightly formal bow, and then continued to hail his carriage.
"I'm sorry, Erik." She laughed softly. "I just knew that calling you Monsieur would catch your attention! Are you going to see the Marguerite and Fleur now?"
"Yes." He admitted softly. "Would you like a ride?"
"Very much. I'm far too tired to walk." A cab pulled up to the sidewalk, and he helped her into the buggy, climbing in to sit across from her. It was a soft, cool evening, and the night time breezes were already starting. It would be winter in a few more weeks. He thought to himself that he had to find a proper home for Madeline and her family before then. That way he would feel reassured in their health and safety.
"How do you like your new job, then?" He finally broke the silence that had grown between them, and she smiled up at him happily.
"I couldn't be more pleased!" She said enthusiastically. "Thank you so much, again, for everything you've done. I can't imagine what would have happened had you not come along. I was a bit behind on my rent. The landlady probably would've put us all out by now."
"Oh, she doesn't seem like such a rough woman." Erik protested. "I'm sure she wouldn't have put you out just like that. She would've given you time to find a place you could better afford. Surely."
"Perhaps." Madeline agreed distractedly. "So . . . Marguerite keeps telling me that you have this big surprise in store for them tonight. Would you mind letting me in on it?"
"It's nothing so grand." He insisted. "I am going to take them to a bit of supper, and then . . . go apartment hunting with them. I thought they'd like to have an idea of the type of place they'll be living in." He looked at her for a long moment. " . . . Would you care to join us? You do, after all, have every say in the place you're going to make your new home."
She looked back at him for a long moment. They still hadn't gotten over their awkward acquaintance to becoming good friends. It was odd. Both found the other rather attractive, but certainly weren't interested in the other as a possible 'mate'. Madeline thought that Erik was far too young for her. Erik often chuckled when he would realize that. If only she knew how old he truly was!
"Here we are." He finally said softly, climbing down from the halted carriage to help her out. As he paid the cabby, he asked the man to wait, and then turned to follow Madeline up the stairs to her apartment door. Immediately, it swung open, and he found himself surrounded by pairs of arms. Even little Gerard, who was feeling extremely well since his bout of stomach aches, had toddled out onto the porch to hug his leg anxiously. Laughter of every pitch filled his ears, and it was one of the most beauteous sounds in the entire universe. Ah, the laughter of children!
"Papa!" Marguerite greeted eagerly, her hands clawing in the air to try and get him to pick her up. Fleur was doing the same, and Gerard simply clutched at Erik's pants leg before Madeline finally scooped him up into her arms. She was smiling sadly, and he understood guiltily that it was because she probably felt thrown over for him.
"Ah, ma petite angels!" He laughed, crouching down to hug either twin tightly. He kissed their cheeks and their hair, and they gave him hugs and kisses in return. Then, he stood up, urging them towards Madeline. They greeted their mother in obedience to his silent urging, and then turned right back around to tackle him.
"Papa, what's this surprise going to be?" Marguerite insisted pleadingly. "We've been waiting all afternoon!"
"I know, and you will soon find out." He promised. "Madeline. Would you like to bring your son with us, or leave him here with the landlady?"
"I'll bring him, if it wouldn't bother you too much." She replied, her voice crisp over the eager sounds of her children. Nodding, Erik turned to start heading downstairs, then paused to ruffle the hair on Gerard's tiny head. The boy giggled and reached up to catch his fingers, but missed. Then, laughing, Erik led everyone back down into the carriage.
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"I can't remember the last time I've had so much to eat." Madeline said quietly, leaning back on the cushioned seat of a fine little restaurant. Erik had known she would like the place, as undoubtedly it let her reminisce about her past as a wealthier young woman. The food was also delicious, and the other patrons and employees tolerated the presence of small children. "Erik, you spoil every one of us far too much." With this she looked down at her son, who was wearing a little toddlers tuxedo. It was one of the only new things Madeline had ever gotten him. Because she knew he would simply grow out of such fine clothes before long.
"I don't mind spoiling you." He laughed quietly, watching the little girls as they gorged themselves on a la mode. He remembered having always liked that particular desert the best. The hot apple pie, mixed with the taste and texture of freezing cold vanilla ice cream. . . it was something to experience. "Before you came along, the only person in the world I had to spoil was my cat. You should see her diamond collar."
He, of course, did not bother to tell them that he had stolen the mentioned collar from the Shah of Persia. That would be giving them too much information about his past. Information he was not going to give anyone. Perhaps not even Christine. She knew enough of his dark past as it was.
"Was this the surprise, Papa?" Marguerite piped up, looking up at him with a dirty little face that was sprinkled with just about everything she'd eaten that evening. In fact, Erik and Madeline were the only ones who didn't look the same way. Laughing, he picked up a napkin and reached across the table to wipe their angelic faces clean.
"No, ma petite. This is not all of the surprise." He said quietly.
"You mean there's even *more*?" She cried out in delight, and Madeline glanced around quickly to make sure no one overly disapproved of the noise they were making. Erik laughed again, and then waved over their waiter. The man brought them the check, and Erik paid for their supper where he sat.
"There is a little bit more, yes." He finally told everyone. "Shall we go? I want you all to see something." With that he winked at Madeline, and she looked at him in confusion. Seeing the look on her face, he laughed once more. Never had he laughed so much in his entire life. It was a sound and sensation he very much liked. It was so much better than the feeling of tears, unless they were tears of joy and happiness.
They all made their way outside, where Erik once again called for a carriage. This one was an open air carriage, as the children seemed to like that kind the best. And tonight was an exceptional night for them. They were able to look up at the stars as they rode through the city. The night was so clear and just the perfect temperature. Madeline and Marguerite spent the ride trying to pry Erik's secrets from him about where they were going. But he refused to say anything the entire way there.
Soon, they were pulling up in front of a beautiful town house only a block away from the Opera House. It had a lush, although small, lawn, and a picket fence all the way about it. The siding was a pale shade of blue, although it looked quite a dingy gray in the light of the night. It was two and a half stories tall (including an attic) and looked as though it had some twelve odd rooms in it. Most of the windows were lighted from the inside, signaling that someone had recently been there. As they climbed down from the carriage, everyone stared up at it in awe. Only Erik remained perfectly composed as he moved ahead of them to open the gate in front of the walk way, and head up to a wrap-around porch, up the sturdy wooden stairs, and to a beautiful door of dark maroon. When he realized he was still alone, he turned to smile at them on the sidewalk.
"Well then?" He called teasingly. "Don't just stand there! This is your home!"
Everyone gasped and squealed with shock and delight. The twins bolted up the front walk, almost tripping on the two steps that led to the porch. Erik drew a key out of his cloak pocket, and then opened the front door for them. Madeline followed the children more slowly, following with her little son in her arms.
"Erik . . . are you serious?" She asked nervously. "This place is enormous!"
"I am deadly serious, Madeline." He replied simply, pushing the front door open. Without even waiting, the children hurried in. As it was before mentioned, many rooms already had light in them. "I made arrangements so that someone would be here no more than twelve minutes before us, so that you could see it all in the light. Yet of course I asked them to leave before we arrived. I did not want them intruding on your discovery."
"But it must have cost you a fortune!" She almost reluctantly stepped into the front hallway to see a long staircase to the right of the space, leading up to the second story.
"Not as much as you might think." Erik replied gently, following her in, and closing the door behind him. "The place is already fully furnished, except for drapes, pillows, blankets, and the like. I thought you might wish to select those items. There are five bedrooms. . . I thought you might like to have a guest room . . . a library and study/living room/salon downstairs. A kitchen and dining room. Upstairs there is a large bathroom. Then there is the attic. Oh, I almost forgot to mention that there is also a pantry. In the back, there is a deck leading off of the master bedroom."
"How did you manage this?" Madeline asked, her voice nearly shrill. Madeline and Fleur were running about from room to room, laughing excitedly. Finally, Madeline put Gerard down, and let his sisters drag him upstairs with them. Erik smiled at her fondly.
"Madeline, I have my ways." He insisted. "That is all you need to know. Besides . . . I do have something small to ask of you in return."
She looked up at him in bewilderment.
"I would like to be able to stay in your guest room . . . You see my place is no longer adequate. I need better lodgings. If you don't mind hearing music here as well as at work - for you see I am a composer just as much as I am a singer - I would very much like to live here with your family. It's the children . . . you see. Every moment I am away from them is . . ."
"You're speaking like a father now." She whispered. "Is that truly all you want from me in return? You don't ask for rent, or anything of that sort?"
"If it would make you feel more at ease to pay me rent, Madeline, then by all means . . . But I will never require it of you. Not now, and not ever. I will never give you the boot because you cannot afford to pay me rent. I will never hurt you or your children."
"I still don't understand how or why, Erik." She whispered, tears standing in her eyes. "But thank you . . . this is so much more than we would ever have expected . . . so much more!"
On instinct, he reached out and gently pulled her into his arms, gently stroking her hair and making soft noises to sooth her. He understood that she was crying out of joy and gratitude. No doubt she was overwhelmed with all that was happening. He couldn't say he blamed her.
When he'd found the house at such an astonishingly cheap price, he'd thanked his lucky stars above. He knew that they were selling it so cheap because the family who had once owned it was anxious to be rid of the terrible memories of a sudden death which had occurred there, and they hadn't cared about price. Yet the fact that someone had died there meant nothing to him. He had caused enough death in his life to not be phased in the least. He was only happy to be doing this for the family he thought deserved everything that he had to give, and more. He wanted Marguerite and Fleur, and Gerard, to have the best of the world. He was going to give that to them, no matter what the price!
"Come . . . let me show you around, Madeline. Tonight, while you rest here, I will go and settle matters with your landlady. I will also see to it that all your personal possessions are packed and brought to you here by morning."
