The Suspicion and the Ring
As Christine passed inside through the lavish entryway to Erik's eccentrically decorated home, she felt as if she were about ready to pass into death for relief. Now that she was here, it was only a matter of getting away from Erik's raptor sight long enough to hide the note someplace until she had more time to dispose of it completely. She stopped only across the carpet from the door to the Louis-Philippe room and began to unfasten the dark blue cloak from around her shoulders. She planned to go straight inside the bedchambers as soon as she was able to successfully exempt herself.
Erik followed her into the parlor and took the cloak from her shoulders as she untied it. She forced herself not to shiver as he did, but really was too distracted to much mind his provoking touch. She caught her breath and then broke the silence, saying quietly, "Thank you...Would you excuse me, Erik? I really think I need to...rest for...just for a few minutes..."
He moved around in front of her so that he came between her and the direct path to room that had come to be hers. "But of course...Is there anything I might get for you before you retire?"
She was startled briefly and stopped again, not yet attempting to move around him. "N-no...That's all right...I just want to...go to bed..."
Erik was now absolutely suspicious of Christine's behavior. "Something is wrong..."
She shook her head quickly and thrust both of her hands behind her back. "No, nothing..."
He took a contemplative step toward her. "You are...hiding something..."
She stepped back as he moved closer and began to feel herself become irrationally desperate. "Erik, please! I just want...to...go to bed..."
He tilted his head slightly to the side as he studied her. He was really a bit hurt by the way she was responding to him. He spoke sensitively, "Christine...You know there is nothing you should feel the need to hide from me..."
She answered quickly, wanting nothing more than to convince him so that he would let her go within. "I know, Erik. I'm not hiding anything..." Her words did sound believable and sympathetic enough to Erik's wounded tone, but her hands remained very noticeably concealed behind her back.
He stepped toward her again, closing the distance she had created, until they were very close to each other. He did not take his eyes from hers as he lifted a hand and tenderly traced an outline of air against the side of her face and said, "Of course you're not...You know better than that...You know that there is nothing you would be able to keep from me...There is nothing I do not know..."
Christine's entire frame began to subtly shake as he spoke those last words. Her lips and hands trembled, and she could only nod as her eyes slowly started to fill with warm tears. "Yes...Yes, I know..."
Erik's long, fine fingers stroked the air against her cheek until they had played down to her throat, and then--then he laid his hand delicately against the soft curls of hair at the side of her neck. "But now you're going to cry..." he spoke in a tenderness that was dubiously heartfelt. "Why are you going to cry, Christine?"
She answered softly, not even trying to make the effort to hide the fact that her voice was trembling just as much as her body now. "Only because I am tired, and I...I'm tired, Erik..."
His words then came out in a breath that was something between a whisper and a hiss, and his eyes narrowed once more behind the slits of his mask. "Yes...I am sure you are very tired, Christine...After all, you have been so very busy, haven't you?" He let his fingers slide through the flaxen curls of her hair and slip around the back of her neck to the top of the collar of her dress where he could feel the fine links of the chain of her necklace just under the smooth cloth.
In a rush of heated panic, Christine stepped back quickly, away from his touch, and her right hand immediately rose in a protective gesture to where the chain fell against her chest. She stared at Erik for a moment with fearful eyes. "I...I have not! But...I..." Breaking off then, completely overwhelmed by the intimidation and absolutely unable to bear his menacing presence a moment longer, Christine turned and darted to flee to the safety beyond the door to her bedroom.
He caught her easily by the left arm before she could get far and cut in sardonically, "One more moment, I beg of you, my dear."
Only on first impulse did she try to pull back her arm; but she was beginning to give into futility and did not put any true effort into freeing it. She looked back up at him and spoke as bravely as possible, "Yes, Erik?"
He let his hand slide—so very slowly—down the bare skin of her tapered limb...Until it came to rest where his fingers wrapped around her wrist and lithely lifted her clenched hand. The little ovals of her fingernails were deathly white from the pressure of how tightly she gripped the thin paper that she had since folded into such a tiny, concealable square. Its tissue corners dug into the hidden part of her palm, and it must have been completely soaked through with the clamminess of her dread by now. But amazingly (at least, so she thought for the moment) Erik made no move to unfurl her fingers or even so much as look at them.
Instead, he began to speak again as his hand gave no inclination of moving from where it held her wrist and his eyes did not leave hers. "I have seen many things in my life, Christine, but I must say, this is the first time I have ever witnessed the spontaneous growth of an additional ornament to an inanimate object." He turned her hand over so that he had a painfully direct view of its back and fair knuckles. And then he looked down—down at the sinful, sparkling ruby that adorned the otherwise simple gold band of Raoul's ring on her bridal finger. "Amazing."
She was stunned; but only for a moment before she tried to draw her hand from his grip. Her eyes flitted from the wicked stone back up to him in absolute terror. Her words were spoken like desperate demands, "I just want to go in my room, Erik! Please let me go!..."
He released her without protest as she pulled away from him. "Yes. Do go to your room. After all, this house is yours. I told you that, Christine. I've told you that everything I have is yours. Everything. So long as you remain mine. But, my dear, dear Christine, you haven't done that, have you? Could it be that you have been unfaithful to me?"
She moved back again towards the door in small steps, unable to sift through the confusion between the grace he allowed her and the threat he implied. "No, Erik, I haven't been unfaithful...! This...this is only a ring...It means nothing...I...I forgot I even had it...That's how unimportant it is!—I swear to you...I will explain...but...But after I have—" She felt her heel strike the frame of the door and turned quickly to grasp the handle—So quickly that she realized only an instant too late that her left hand had opened and the overtly wretched note was already set free to fall.
Erik followed her into the parlor and took the cloak from her shoulders as she untied it. She forced herself not to shiver as he did, but really was too distracted to much mind his provoking touch. She caught her breath and then broke the silence, saying quietly, "Thank you...Would you excuse me, Erik? I really think I need to...rest for...just for a few minutes..."
He moved around in front of her so that he came between her and the direct path to room that had come to be hers. "But of course...Is there anything I might get for you before you retire?"
She was startled briefly and stopped again, not yet attempting to move around him. "N-no...That's all right...I just want to...go to bed..."
Erik was now absolutely suspicious of Christine's behavior. "Something is wrong..."
She shook her head quickly and thrust both of her hands behind her back. "No, nothing..."
He took a contemplative step toward her. "You are...hiding something..."
She stepped back as he moved closer and began to feel herself become irrationally desperate. "Erik, please! I just want...to...go to bed..."
He tilted his head slightly to the side as he studied her. He was really a bit hurt by the way she was responding to him. He spoke sensitively, "Christine...You know there is nothing you should feel the need to hide from me..."
She answered quickly, wanting nothing more than to convince him so that he would let her go within. "I know, Erik. I'm not hiding anything..." Her words did sound believable and sympathetic enough to Erik's wounded tone, but her hands remained very noticeably concealed behind her back.
He stepped toward her again, closing the distance she had created, until they were very close to each other. He did not take his eyes from hers as he lifted a hand and tenderly traced an outline of air against the side of her face and said, "Of course you're not...You know better than that...You know that there is nothing you would be able to keep from me...There is nothing I do not know..."
Christine's entire frame began to subtly shake as he spoke those last words. Her lips and hands trembled, and she could only nod as her eyes slowly started to fill with warm tears. "Yes...Yes, I know..."
Erik's long, fine fingers stroked the air against her cheek until they had played down to her throat, and then--then he laid his hand delicately against the soft curls of hair at the side of her neck. "But now you're going to cry..." he spoke in a tenderness that was dubiously heartfelt. "Why are you going to cry, Christine?"
She answered softly, not even trying to make the effort to hide the fact that her voice was trembling just as much as her body now. "Only because I am tired, and I...I'm tired, Erik..."
His words then came out in a breath that was something between a whisper and a hiss, and his eyes narrowed once more behind the slits of his mask. "Yes...I am sure you are very tired, Christine...After all, you have been so very busy, haven't you?" He let his fingers slide through the flaxen curls of her hair and slip around the back of her neck to the top of the collar of her dress where he could feel the fine links of the chain of her necklace just under the smooth cloth.
In a rush of heated panic, Christine stepped back quickly, away from his touch, and her right hand immediately rose in a protective gesture to where the chain fell against her chest. She stared at Erik for a moment with fearful eyes. "I...I have not! But...I..." Breaking off then, completely overwhelmed by the intimidation and absolutely unable to bear his menacing presence a moment longer, Christine turned and darted to flee to the safety beyond the door to her bedroom.
He caught her easily by the left arm before she could get far and cut in sardonically, "One more moment, I beg of you, my dear."
Only on first impulse did she try to pull back her arm; but she was beginning to give into futility and did not put any true effort into freeing it. She looked back up at him and spoke as bravely as possible, "Yes, Erik?"
He let his hand slide—so very slowly—down the bare skin of her tapered limb...Until it came to rest where his fingers wrapped around her wrist and lithely lifted her clenched hand. The little ovals of her fingernails were deathly white from the pressure of how tightly she gripped the thin paper that she had since folded into such a tiny, concealable square. Its tissue corners dug into the hidden part of her palm, and it must have been completely soaked through with the clamminess of her dread by now. But amazingly (at least, so she thought for the moment) Erik made no move to unfurl her fingers or even so much as look at them.
Instead, he began to speak again as his hand gave no inclination of moving from where it held her wrist and his eyes did not leave hers. "I have seen many things in my life, Christine, but I must say, this is the first time I have ever witnessed the spontaneous growth of an additional ornament to an inanimate object." He turned her hand over so that he had a painfully direct view of its back and fair knuckles. And then he looked down—down at the sinful, sparkling ruby that adorned the otherwise simple gold band of Raoul's ring on her bridal finger. "Amazing."
She was stunned; but only for a moment before she tried to draw her hand from his grip. Her eyes flitted from the wicked stone back up to him in absolute terror. Her words were spoken like desperate demands, "I just want to go in my room, Erik! Please let me go!..."
He released her without protest as she pulled away from him. "Yes. Do go to your room. After all, this house is yours. I told you that, Christine. I've told you that everything I have is yours. Everything. So long as you remain mine. But, my dear, dear Christine, you haven't done that, have you? Could it be that you have been unfaithful to me?"
She moved back again towards the door in small steps, unable to sift through the confusion between the grace he allowed her and the threat he implied. "No, Erik, I haven't been unfaithful...! This...this is only a ring...It means nothing...I...I forgot I even had it...That's how unimportant it is!—I swear to you...I will explain...but...But after I have—" She felt her heel strike the frame of the door and turned quickly to grasp the handle—So quickly that she realized only an instant too late that her left hand had opened and the overtly wretched note was already set free to fall.
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