Chapter Six: You're Going To Find A Way
Many hours later they found themselves in the room at the inn again after hitting an unforgivable dead end.
Christine was giving Erik a wide berth to pace in, not an easy thing to do in the cramped little room.
"Why would I have thought it any different?" Erik raged, his movements while they may have been angry, showcased his amazing cat-like grace. "What priest in his right mind would record my birth? The birth of a monster, I'm sure that would go over well when the bishop came to check on the parish records!"
"I refuse to believe it is a total dead end, Erik. There must be something we're missing."
"No, we went over those books thoroughly, there's nothing there for us. And I doubt that priest wants to see me again," his outrage lead to despair, and he crumpled to the floor. Christine was up like a shot, and came down to sit before him, taking his hand as he whispered, "It's hopeless, Christine. Hopeless for me to believe they would even allow us to marry in the church at all. Why would they allow a monster that they did not even want in the first place?"
"No," Christine murmured, "I won't allow myself to believe that, Erik. There has to be a way. Even if the way does not lie with the church, there has to be some way."
Erik lifted his head until his eyes met hers, and saw the glimmer of hope and confidence in them. "How is it you can be so strong now, and I so weak?"
"Because I am determined to show you that the world is not against you," Christine answered. "Or at least not all of it. Even I can not help the bigotry and ignorance of people who fear what they do not know or understand, goodness knows I used to be that way, before you taught me that all is not as it seems to be. Before you showed me that the face does not the man make."
Erik lifted his hand and stroked her cheek as she had so often done for him. "You are a better person than I, Christine. I hate to think what may have happened if you had not been here with me throughout this."
Christine smiled, and glanced quickly out the window. "It's getting late, Erik. We should get some rest before continuing tomorrow."
Erik returned her smile, "You're picking up my habits, my dear. Telling me now time for bed?"
"Well," Christine replied, "We are to spend the rest of our lives together, I'm sure it's not the only habit I'll pick up over the years."
"So long as you don't pick up my worst, my temper," Erik kidded gently, before his face turned serious. "It's no wonder I love you." He rose, and offered her his hand.
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The next morning, Christine returned to the church alone. Erik had wanted to go with her, but knew that by the reaction of the priest the day before it was doubtful that he would be allowed into the record room a second time. Christine argued that she had a better chance of finding out than he did, after all, she would stay much calmer while asking her questions.
Besides, she didn't want to give him the glimmer of hope at the idea that had come to her, just in case it turned out to be another dead end.
The priest was kind when he saw the young woman, no sign of the obvious distress he'd had at his first sight of the mask the day before.
"I don't know how much help these tomes will be, I'm afraid as you may have noted yesterday that most of our records were by first name only. A horrible oversight by our earlier priests, to be sure, one that we have been trying to overcome in the past few years since I've been here."
"Yes, I understand. I do have a question you may be able to answer, Father."
"If I can, Mademoiselle."
"You said you've been here a few years, perhaps you may have known a woman who used to live in the village by the name of Marie Perrault?"
"Marie Perrault," the young priest mused. "Yes, I believe I do remember her. I was not here long when she left the village."
"Would you perhaps know where she went when she left?"
The priest ruminated on the question for a moment, before looking into Christine's eyes with a sad smile, "Yes, I do. She went to Rouen. She had met a fine man, and they married, and the next day left for the city where he lived. Her brother was not too happy about it, but even the old are entitled to love, after all."
Christine smiled at the break in her luck. "You wouldn't happen to have an address for her, would you?"
"Yes, I believe it is in here somewhere," the priest answered as he took a book from one of the lower rows of the bookcase. He opened the book and flipped through several pages before finding what he sought. "Aha! Here it is, if you wish, I can write this down for you."
"That would be most helpful, Father," Christine replied, her joy at her find obvious.
The priest came back moments later with a sheet of paper and a pen, and after a quick scribble, handed it to her. "I do hope this helps you, Mademoiselle.
Christine glanced down at the parchment with Mademoiselle Perrault's new name on it. "I do believe it will, Father. Perhaps with this, I need not go through those tomes after all. Thank you."
"The pleasure was mine, I assure you."
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Christine ran back to the inn as quickly as her feet could carry her, and by the time she entered the room, she was breathless.
Erik quickly shot up from the chair, his concern at the sight of her disheveled self evident. "Christine, what is it, what is wrong?" In two steps, he was at her side, guiding her into the chair he had vacated.
Christine was still gasping for breath, unable to vocalize her thoughts, so she merely handed him the sheet of parchment she grasped in her small hand. Erik, not totally understanding at first, raised his eyebrows as she motioned for him to read it.
His eyes darted down toward the parchment.
Marie Degardeau
Degardeau cottage,
Rue De Lacat
Rouen.
"I don't understand," Erik queried.
Christine, now having enough breath to string together a sentence, replied, "Mademoiselle Perrault. That's her, she married and moved to Rouen with her husband."
Erik's eyes widened behind the mask. "But how . . . how did you find this out?"
"I asked the priest. He had told me the old records were horribly incomplete and inaccurate, and what we were looking for was like searching for a needle in a haystack, so I though perhaps he might know how to reach Mademoiselle Perrault."
Erik's mouth turned up in a smile of pride at her thoughtfulness, "You never cease to amaze me."
"I told you there had to be a way. It means we have to travel to Rouen, but honestly, I think it's worth it."
"Yes, it is," Erik replied simply as he took her into his arms and gently kissed her lips. "We shall leave tomorrow, then, if you're up to the journey."
Christine chuckled, "I'm up to anything as long as you are."
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At dawn the next morning, they collected their horses and set out for Rouen. The night had grown colder than the previous day, and it had started to snow by mid morning.
"Have you ever been to Rouen, Erik?"
"No, I'm afraid I haven't. My mother lived there as a child, though, and talked about it often. Enough that I'd likely recognize much of it from my imaginations."
Christine nodded her head, glad that he was at least allowing her small glimpses into his childhood. Perhaps when she met Mademoiselle Perrault, she could fill in the blanks.
It was mid-day when they came upon the city of Rouen, and Erik found that he had been right, the structures within were almost exactly like those he had imagined as a child. His quick gasp of breath was enough to let Christine know that as well.
"Do you know where the Rue De Lacat is, Erik?" Christine queried.
Erik stared ahead for a moment before answering, "As a child, I studied maps of Paris and Rouen, so I believe I do."
Christine nodded her acquiescence, knowing Erik would be loathe to ask directions for fear of the reaction he would receive. She followed him through the quaint streets of the small city. It was not long before they turned down a street and found what they sought, the sign outside the house clearly claimed it as being Degardeau Cottage.
"I am amazed you found it so easily," Christine commented as she watched Erik dismount once more.
His movements held a sense of déjà vu, and he helped her down as he had merely a few days ago when they stood before Mademoiselle's childhood home.
"Now, of course that we know she is not Mademoiselle Perrault anymore, I suppose we will have to change the wording. It is, however, a workday, perhaps her husband will be away," Erik sighed. "I doubt he would be thrilled to find me on his doorstep."
Christine let out a sigh of her own, "I'm sure that Madame Degardeau will be pleased to see you after all these years, Erik."
Erik's response came out as more of a snort. "More than likely frightened out of her wits, my dear, she always was wary of me, even when I was a child."
Christine shook her head as she gave his hand a squeeze of support, before releasing him and making her way through the snow to the door. She stood there for about a minute after knocking, and was greeted by a plump lady of older years, with a curious mouse-like face that had not changed much in the past fifty years. Her quick intake of breath at sight of Christine was quickly overtaken by her whisper, "Madeleine!"
Christine didn't have much chance to say anything before Erik was by her side. Marie's reaction was immediate at the glimpse of the mask, and it mirrored the one she had given twenty years before at his sudden presence. Her hand flew to her breast in a reflex borne of years gone by, and her voice came quick as a start in the quiet street.
"Holy Virgin!" she gasped. "Erik!"
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*Author's Note: More thank you's!! You guys are sooo great; all of you who have been reviewing have been so kind, thank you soo much.
LadyLaura020, Kat, more coming soon, I promise, I'm almost finished writing Chapter Seven, and it's a looong one!
Trinity: Never thought of writing a scene where they discuss the age difference . . . I suppose part of the reason I haven't is because I know it wasn't uncommon for an older man to marry a much younger woman back in those days. I'll think on that, although I can't promise it will fit itself into this story.
angelofnight: Okay, I THINK you're the blank reviewer, and as you can see, yeah, the church didn't have the birth certificate, so you're right again. Most records back then would be in the church, and I'm looking into the possibility of them getting married without it . . . I really HOPE it's possible! And we really SHOULD put that jar of spiders away ;-)