Chapter Seven-

On the Town

Note- grrrrrr! Mademoiselle myself has a terrible sinus cold! Which makes teaching nearly impossible and singing quite difficult.


Christine went into the kitchen around a week later, beginning to get things together for dinner. She gasped and then began to laugh as her husband's arms encircled her from behind. She turned facing him and sighing as he placed a delicate kiss to her mouth.

"Let's go out." He said softly.

"Oh?" She chuckled, entwining her fingers in his lapels. "Where?"

He grinned. "Le Café del'opera!"

She frowned, shaking her head. "Erik,"

"Christine I know what I am doing, come, you must get ready, I must fetch something."

"I don't like this, Erik, not one bit!" Christine hung nervously on his arm as they entered the Café. She indeed did recognize most of the men and women here as patrons and their wives, and even a few chorus members and dancers. Mouths fell open as she entered with the Opera Ghost. Eyes were wide and people began to whisper quietly.

Christine froze as she witnessed what she was witnessing (gee, that sounds professional!). There sat Raoul, and across from him Meg, fluttering with happiness. Erik began t lead her in the direction but she froze, not budging.

"Christine..."

"Erik I can't!" She quivered.

He kissed her hand soothingly. " Trust me, and it will be ok." She looked into his calm, sure eyes and melted, following him to the back of the restaurant.

Raoul laughed and looked up, his mirth ending instantly and he stood. "You!"

His eyes flamed at Erik, Meg ran to Christine, embracing her and whispering that she needed to speak with her.

"Meg, later. I... I do not trust them alone together." She wrung her hands nervously as Erik stood boldly before Raoul.

"Monsieur, I hardly think that is any way to greet myself and my fiancée!" Erik's tone was calm and cold.

Raoul scoffed. "I honestly do not care about what you may think! My fiancée and myself are trying to have dinner!"

Erik chuckled and shrugged. "You stood, monsieur. I had said nothing to you." Turning, he offered his arm to Christine again. "Darling?"

She took it quickly and he led her to the table he had reserved. "Erik, please don't do anything foolish..."

Chuckling he shook his head. "Do not worry my love! In fact after this I have planned something I am sure you will enjoy..."

She looked at him, perplexed. "What is that?"

He shook his head. "I cannot tell you that! It is a surprise!"

She sighed smirking, she was used to his surprises which he showered her with much of the time! "Can you believe it? Raoul and Meg!"

He laughed. "Yes it certainly does look as though they have been... what's the proper word? Busy..."

Christine gasped. "How would you know?"

"Please! Look at how she holds herself! The way she lets her legs hand open slightly, the twitter of her small talk, the bat of her lashes! I've studied people many a year and besides my love," He purred, taking her hand across the table. "We too, have been in that position."

She blushed and nodded. "I never noticed." He stroked her hand gently, his eyes blazing into hers. After their first two times both had agreed it was not safe to continue their physical expressions of love until after marriage. Christine shamefully wondered when that would be...

They ordered ate and almost immediately left, to her surprise, for Erik usually liked to stay longer and talk.

He had their driver take them to the docks, where a small ship waited, a man on the deck, smiling. She turned to him. "Erik, why are we here?"

He smiled tenderly, brushing some hair from her cheek. "Christine, would you like an impetuous wedding?"

Laughing she fell into his arms, nuzzling his suit front. "Yes, very much." She murmured.

He gently guided her onto the ship, where they exchanged does and to Christine's surprise plain, but lovely rings. Erik explained that they would sail the Seine for several days as a short honeymoon, and once things with the Opera were settles they would have a larger wedding and a longer, more private honeymoon.

"It doesn't matter to me," She answered, resting her forehead on his. "Not as long as I'm with you."


Short as it was, it was delightful to sail the river with him, holding her as the wind blew in her hair, or when they had more private moments below in their cabin. The week on the water was bliss.

When they finally returned to their cottage Christine finally felt regret take it's toll on her. The building was stuffy, and smelled of dust and other unpleasant things. She set to opening the shutters, and found some fish she had left out mistakenly, half rotted on the counter-space. Disgusted, she picked it up with something and threw it out the window for the crows to peck.

But once she and Erik could settle on the couch, arms around each other, voices mingled in muffled song everything became worth it. The warmth caused by such moments often caused Christine alarm, for she thought she may be feverish with her love for him. He laughed at her when she told him so and then he kissed her forehead, saying that he had a likewise fever.

A letter came in the post the day after their return from the Place del'opera. Christine was indeed curious as to how they had gotten their address, and why they so urgently wanted to see her the next morning, but she threw it aside, for she had other plans with her husband, on the town.