Chapter Fourteen
Erik studied their entwined hands in concentration. "Christine?"
"Mmmmmm?" She could not be roused to speech after the explosion she'd just experienced.
"Is it like this for all married couples? This kind of oneness?" He refused to look at her, preferring the safety of his hooded eyes.
Soberly, Christine lifted his chin compelling him to meet her eyes in the dim candlelight. "No, Erik, it is not. There are moments of closeness, but nothing like our love. What we share is very precious and very rare."
His dark eyes shone victoriously. Intently, he affirmed, "I always knew it was special. From the moment I heard you sing and afterward, when I saw you...", he lapsed into silence.
"Yes, it is extraordinary. I believe all couples consider their love as one the world has never known, but for you and I, that is an absolute certainty." Christine kissed his shoulder as her heart burst with love for him.
"Thank you for loving me, Christine." Erik choked unexpectedly, breaking her heart.
"Oh, my darling. Do not thank me, Erik. It is an honor to love you and receive your love in return." She clasped him tightly to her and shut her eyes against the dazzling warmth of his body pressed against hers.
Christine surrendered herself completely to Erik's desire over the next few days. She left their marriage bed only when necessary and never donned a stitch of clothing. Amused, he lavishly complimented her on her wifely submission. He still bewildered her with his ardor and she decided to enlighten him during a brief pause one afternoon.
"Erik, you know you are quite.." she wavered, "quite virile."
Intrigued, he sat up in bed to look at her. With light laughter he responded, "You will definitely have to expound upon that, my dear."
An irrepressible blush crept up much to her dismay. "Well, certainly you are aware that most men could not, um, continue with such resilience."
Staring at her in disbelief, Erik did not speak.
Nervous now, she continued to blunder, "You are enormously amorous, my love. I've never before imagined a man could display such....endurance." Feeling quite like an idiot, she laid down turning her back as though to sleep. Her face was thoroughly crimson.
"Christine, do my attentions trouble you?" he answered in a carefully guarded tenor.
Turning swiftly, she asserted, "Oh, Erik, no! Not in the slightest! I love making love to you and I am most content. Please don't think that I am in any way complaining. I just wanted to.....to compliment you."
Gazing at his bride in an awkward understanding, he did not know whether to laugh out loud or succumb to a growing embarrassment.
As she prayed she had not offended him, Christine was astonished to see the hot color steal up into his face. "Erik, are you blushing?" she whispered to him in complete incredulity.
"Of course not, Christine. Come now, I'm tired." This time, Erik turned away from her as though to sleep.
"You are! You're blushing! Erik, I've made you blush!" she crowed happily. A rebellious glee rushed throughout her at the novel idea that she had embarrassed her regal, imposing husband for a change. Determined to ignore her, he covered his anguish as best he could.
Doggedly, she pursued him in her victory. Unable to retreat now, Erik smiled up at her. "You are most irresistible, my dear." Christine snuggled close to him in satisfaction.
"Now where would you like to go on a wedding trip?" he inquired if only to change the subject.
Aware of his tactic, but allowing it, Christine considered. "I had not thought on it, Erik. Is there anywhere you would like to go?"
"No. I have no preference as long as I am with you." Glorying in the feel of her in his arms, Erik took pride in the dawning realization that she was his wife.
Sarcastically, she reminded him, "Traveling does require one to get out of bed."
Exhaling noisily in mock resignation, he agreed, "Yes, it will be a hardship."
Eventually, it was decided that they would visit Florence, Italy. They prepared to depart France by ship. Always Christine's mainstay, Catherine took care of most of the arrangements for them.
Packing one day before their departure, Christine uncovered the small, weathered case in her luggage.
"Erik." she whispered.
"My love?" He heard the sentiment in her voice and was immediately at her side.
"Erik, sit down. There is something I wish to give to you."
Sitting obediently, he continued to observe her carefully.
Christine had forgotten her gift for him in the blissful days after their wedding. She handed the case to him with both hands, explaining simply, "This was my father's violin. I want you to have it."
As though accepting a valuable, delicate jewel, Erik gingerly took the case from her hands. He stared at it overcome with the honor she bestowed upon him. For he knew how deeply she had loved her father and to offer him this integral link to her past staggered him. Continuing to look at it, while instead seeing the tender meaning behind the gift, he remained totally silent.
Christine stood confused, as well as wondering if he was offended. Not knowing the depth of emotion which shook him to the core, she tried to behave normally and returned to packing. She heard him click the case open and looked behind her.
Erik had not expected such a superior instrument. The violin was aged but obviously of the most impeccable quality. Bringing his gaze back to his wife, Erik's face shown with his gratitude. She knelt beside him in relief. "Play something, Erik. It has not been used since Father died and I think it most apt that the next one to play it should be the Angel of Music whom he sent to me."
His hands unsteady, he retrieved the bow and cautiously drew it across the strings. Closing his eyes in ecstasy at the sound, he played a melody he had learned in his youth.
There was a surreal sense of coming full circle as Christine watched Erik play her father's violin. Something missing from her life since Father passed away was healed in Erik's song. Not since his death had she felt her father's presence more acutely than now. She imagined his silent blessing upon their union softly settling on them with each note Erik played. She rested her head against his knee in appreciation.
After the last note drifted away, Erik looked at her with tears in his eyes. Nothing he said could be adequate at this moment so he merely kissed her in thankfulness.
Christine browsed the millinery shoppe carelessly. Erik had left her to see to their trunks at the port where they were scheduled to leave shortly. The city around her buzzed and fussed reminding her why she chose to live in the country. All of a sudden, a haughty, feminine voice startled her, "Why, surely it can't be Madame le Comtesse?"
Looking up, Christine immediately recognized the wife of one of Raoul's business colleagues. "Marielle, how good to see you again." she answered, wary of this woman whose company she had never particularly enjoyed. Marielle was notorious for her malicious, gossiping tongue.
"Well, I suppose that is not correct now, is it? I believe I recall hearing you recently remarried. Of course you know I wish you years of happiness." The snooty woman insolently looked around her. "Where is your new husband, my dear?"
"Erik is seeing to our trunks. We are leaving on a trip today." Christine answered uncomfortably.
Marielle was joined by another catty acquaintance with whom Christine was familiar. Growing decidedly awkward, Christine politely nodded to the other lady who was looking her up and down disrespectfully. They had never received her into their social circle due to her scandalous past on the stage.
"I see. Whatever is your married name now?" continued Marielle while assessing Christine's new wedding ring.
"Lenoire, Madame. I do not believe I have had the distinct pleasure of meeting my wife's associates." Erik smoothly rescued Christine, unexpectedly standing behind her.
Grateful for his formidable presence, Christine took his hand and properly introduced him. "Marielle Estonde, Sonya Dupret, I would like to present my husband, Monsieur Erik Lenoire."
Erik bowed formally to both ladies overlooking their frank stares at the mask below his hat.
Following a tense gap, Marielle replied, "Indeed, it is a pleasure, Monsieur." All the while her eyes glittered in undisguised, impolite curiosity at this bizarre, masked gentleman before her.
"Christine, unfortunately, we are due to depart shortly. Ladies," he bowed in dismissal. Murmuring her goodbyes, Christine allowed Erik to guide her through the shoppe into the noisy street.
"Erik, that was wonderful! Thank you so much. I detest those women!" she confided into his ear.
Doing his best to release his anger at the fat cats who had cornered Christine, Erik replied casually, "I daresay we've given them much to talk about at tea time."
Christine gaily took his arm as she gazed up him with undisguised pride. "I'm very pleased with the manner you treated those pompous upstarts, my love. They are the wives of prominent businessmen who I was forced to associate with before...well, before. I never liked them but treated them with courtesy only because it was expected. They were all so backstabbing and adored chatting about other people's personal lives." She wrinkled her nose in distaste at the memory.
Erik said nothing for a few moments as they made their way through the crowd close to the docks. Stopping, he glanced down at Christine with merriment in his eyes, "Perhaps their husbands are not quite so......virile?" His eyebrow raised sardonically.
Christine's immense laughter rang through the street as passersby looked curiously at the strange couple.
Erik studied their entwined hands in concentration. "Christine?"
"Mmmmmm?" She could not be roused to speech after the explosion she'd just experienced.
"Is it like this for all married couples? This kind of oneness?" He refused to look at her, preferring the safety of his hooded eyes.
Soberly, Christine lifted his chin compelling him to meet her eyes in the dim candlelight. "No, Erik, it is not. There are moments of closeness, but nothing like our love. What we share is very precious and very rare."
His dark eyes shone victoriously. Intently, he affirmed, "I always knew it was special. From the moment I heard you sing and afterward, when I saw you...", he lapsed into silence.
"Yes, it is extraordinary. I believe all couples consider their love as one the world has never known, but for you and I, that is an absolute certainty." Christine kissed his shoulder as her heart burst with love for him.
"Thank you for loving me, Christine." Erik choked unexpectedly, breaking her heart.
"Oh, my darling. Do not thank me, Erik. It is an honor to love you and receive your love in return." She clasped him tightly to her and shut her eyes against the dazzling warmth of his body pressed against hers.
Christine surrendered herself completely to Erik's desire over the next few days. She left their marriage bed only when necessary and never donned a stitch of clothing. Amused, he lavishly complimented her on her wifely submission. He still bewildered her with his ardor and she decided to enlighten him during a brief pause one afternoon.
"Erik, you know you are quite.." she wavered, "quite virile."
Intrigued, he sat up in bed to look at her. With light laughter he responded, "You will definitely have to expound upon that, my dear."
An irrepressible blush crept up much to her dismay. "Well, certainly you are aware that most men could not, um, continue with such resilience."
Staring at her in disbelief, Erik did not speak.
Nervous now, she continued to blunder, "You are enormously amorous, my love. I've never before imagined a man could display such....endurance." Feeling quite like an idiot, she laid down turning her back as though to sleep. Her face was thoroughly crimson.
"Christine, do my attentions trouble you?" he answered in a carefully guarded tenor.
Turning swiftly, she asserted, "Oh, Erik, no! Not in the slightest! I love making love to you and I am most content. Please don't think that I am in any way complaining. I just wanted to.....to compliment you."
Gazing at his bride in an awkward understanding, he did not know whether to laugh out loud or succumb to a growing embarrassment.
As she prayed she had not offended him, Christine was astonished to see the hot color steal up into his face. "Erik, are you blushing?" she whispered to him in complete incredulity.
"Of course not, Christine. Come now, I'm tired." This time, Erik turned away from her as though to sleep.
"You are! You're blushing! Erik, I've made you blush!" she crowed happily. A rebellious glee rushed throughout her at the novel idea that she had embarrassed her regal, imposing husband for a change. Determined to ignore her, he covered his anguish as best he could.
Doggedly, she pursued him in her victory. Unable to retreat now, Erik smiled up at her. "You are most irresistible, my dear." Christine snuggled close to him in satisfaction.
"Now where would you like to go on a wedding trip?" he inquired if only to change the subject.
Aware of his tactic, but allowing it, Christine considered. "I had not thought on it, Erik. Is there anywhere you would like to go?"
"No. I have no preference as long as I am with you." Glorying in the feel of her in his arms, Erik took pride in the dawning realization that she was his wife.
Sarcastically, she reminded him, "Traveling does require one to get out of bed."
Exhaling noisily in mock resignation, he agreed, "Yes, it will be a hardship."
Eventually, it was decided that they would visit Florence, Italy. They prepared to depart France by ship. Always Christine's mainstay, Catherine took care of most of the arrangements for them.
Packing one day before their departure, Christine uncovered the small, weathered case in her luggage.
"Erik." she whispered.
"My love?" He heard the sentiment in her voice and was immediately at her side.
"Erik, sit down. There is something I wish to give to you."
Sitting obediently, he continued to observe her carefully.
Christine had forgotten her gift for him in the blissful days after their wedding. She handed the case to him with both hands, explaining simply, "This was my father's violin. I want you to have it."
As though accepting a valuable, delicate jewel, Erik gingerly took the case from her hands. He stared at it overcome with the honor she bestowed upon him. For he knew how deeply she had loved her father and to offer him this integral link to her past staggered him. Continuing to look at it, while instead seeing the tender meaning behind the gift, he remained totally silent.
Christine stood confused, as well as wondering if he was offended. Not knowing the depth of emotion which shook him to the core, she tried to behave normally and returned to packing. She heard him click the case open and looked behind her.
Erik had not expected such a superior instrument. The violin was aged but obviously of the most impeccable quality. Bringing his gaze back to his wife, Erik's face shown with his gratitude. She knelt beside him in relief. "Play something, Erik. It has not been used since Father died and I think it most apt that the next one to play it should be the Angel of Music whom he sent to me."
His hands unsteady, he retrieved the bow and cautiously drew it across the strings. Closing his eyes in ecstasy at the sound, he played a melody he had learned in his youth.
There was a surreal sense of coming full circle as Christine watched Erik play her father's violin. Something missing from her life since Father passed away was healed in Erik's song. Not since his death had she felt her father's presence more acutely than now. She imagined his silent blessing upon their union softly settling on them with each note Erik played. She rested her head against his knee in appreciation.
After the last note drifted away, Erik looked at her with tears in his eyes. Nothing he said could be adequate at this moment so he merely kissed her in thankfulness.
Christine browsed the millinery shoppe carelessly. Erik had left her to see to their trunks at the port where they were scheduled to leave shortly. The city around her buzzed and fussed reminding her why she chose to live in the country. All of a sudden, a haughty, feminine voice startled her, "Why, surely it can't be Madame le Comtesse?"
Looking up, Christine immediately recognized the wife of one of Raoul's business colleagues. "Marielle, how good to see you again." she answered, wary of this woman whose company she had never particularly enjoyed. Marielle was notorious for her malicious, gossiping tongue.
"Well, I suppose that is not correct now, is it? I believe I recall hearing you recently remarried. Of course you know I wish you years of happiness." The snooty woman insolently looked around her. "Where is your new husband, my dear?"
"Erik is seeing to our trunks. We are leaving on a trip today." Christine answered uncomfortably.
Marielle was joined by another catty acquaintance with whom Christine was familiar. Growing decidedly awkward, Christine politely nodded to the other lady who was looking her up and down disrespectfully. They had never received her into their social circle due to her scandalous past on the stage.
"I see. Whatever is your married name now?" continued Marielle while assessing Christine's new wedding ring.
"Lenoire, Madame. I do not believe I have had the distinct pleasure of meeting my wife's associates." Erik smoothly rescued Christine, unexpectedly standing behind her.
Grateful for his formidable presence, Christine took his hand and properly introduced him. "Marielle Estonde, Sonya Dupret, I would like to present my husband, Monsieur Erik Lenoire."
Erik bowed formally to both ladies overlooking their frank stares at the mask below his hat.
Following a tense gap, Marielle replied, "Indeed, it is a pleasure, Monsieur." All the while her eyes glittered in undisguised, impolite curiosity at this bizarre, masked gentleman before her.
"Christine, unfortunately, we are due to depart shortly. Ladies," he bowed in dismissal. Murmuring her goodbyes, Christine allowed Erik to guide her through the shoppe into the noisy street.
"Erik, that was wonderful! Thank you so much. I detest those women!" she confided into his ear.
Doing his best to release his anger at the fat cats who had cornered Christine, Erik replied casually, "I daresay we've given them much to talk about at tea time."
Christine gaily took his arm as she gazed up him with undisguised pride. "I'm very pleased with the manner you treated those pompous upstarts, my love. They are the wives of prominent businessmen who I was forced to associate with before...well, before. I never liked them but treated them with courtesy only because it was expected. They were all so backstabbing and adored chatting about other people's personal lives." She wrinkled her nose in distaste at the memory.
Erik said nothing for a few moments as they made their way through the crowd close to the docks. Stopping, he glanced down at Christine with merriment in his eyes, "Perhaps their husbands are not quite so......virile?" His eyebrow raised sardonically.
Christine's immense laughter rang through the street as passersby looked curiously at the strange couple.