Erik pulled back on the reigns and the horse slowed to a stop in front of their little cottage. Christine hugged her cloak tightly around her and began walking towards the house.
"Where are you going?" Erik questioned with a suspicious voice.
"I'm going to put on something warmer. Or is that not allowed?"
Erik's face relaxed and his voice became calm, "By all means my dear. I shall go around to the back and set up our picnic. It's a clear night, so we should be able to see the stars."
"Words cannot express my joy," Christine sarcastically called back.
While Christine was in the house changing, Erik reached into the carriage to get the food he had purchased for them that afternoon. His hand fell upon his rejected gift. He gently lifted the music box out of the carriage, looking at it with sadness. This beautiful object wasn't made to be held in his rough hands, hands that had known death. It was made for her smooth, delicate hands. He wound it up and opened it, allowing his music to escape into the night. Tears came to his eyes as he watched the figure of his precious Christine on the stage of his Opera house. Why did she keep rejecting his affections? He had worked so hard to make her see that he loved her. He closed the lid of the music box and took it inside the cottage. He blinked back the tears and went back to his work of preparing the picnic.
Christine joined him outside, wearing a white dress. She looked like an angel in the moonlight. Erik shook out a large blue blanket and laid it on the ground. He offered Christine his hand and helped her sit down. As she straightened out her dress, he lit a single candle and placed it in the middle of the blanket. He served the food and sat down beside Christine. Sometimes he felt foolish eating with her. She ate like a lady, cutting her food into small dainty bites. He didn't have her refined manners. He often ate with his hands, taking bites that were too large. He watched her mouth as she chewed slowly. He promised himself that he would practice his manners. He wanted Christine to have a husband that she could be proud of.
Christine took the napkin that lay across her lap and dabbed her mouth with it. Erik blew out the candle. He watched as the black smoke swirled up towards the sky until it disappeared. He lowered his head to the ground so that he could stare up at the night sky, but he was once again entranced with Christine. At that moment, he couldn't understand why he had ever felt deserving of her love and affection. How could he expect this beautiful creature to love him, a hideous monster? Erik shook his head slightly, trying to free the thought from his mind. He had given her everything. He was there to comfort her after the loss of her father; he was the beauty in her voice. He had done everything he could to deserve her love, and yet she withheld it from him.
Christine didn't notice Erik staring at her. She was gazing up at the stars, imagining that her father was up heaven looking down at her. In her mind she heard the quiet music of a violin. She lowered her head, letting out a deep sigh. She had forgotten how much she missed him. She was so lost after he died, but he sent the Angel of Music to her to watch over her. She cursed the foolishness of her childhood. This man was no angel. Thinking about Erik made the fury buried inside Christine rise to the surface. For so many years he had deceived her, he had frightened her, and now he was keeping her away from her true love. Hot tears began to flow down her cheeks and she was breathing heavily. Erik reached up a hand to her shoulder, but she pushed it away and stood up. She walked quickly towards the cottage door. She tried to appear sturdy, but her whole body was shaking. Erik fell back to the ground and folded his hand on his stomach. That was the second time his advances had been rejected that day. Christine's behavior was truly beginning to tire him. But he had no other choice. He had many years to wear down her defenses. He just needed to remain patient.
Erik was pulled from his thoughts when he heard a loud scream emanate from inside the cottage. He jumped up and raced to the house. It was very dark inside, lit only by the moon. But Erik was used to the darkness. He could see the five men that had invaded his home. One was sitting in a chair, carelessly picking at his nails. Three were standing near to him, and the fourth was across the room. He had an arm wrapped around Christine, pinning her arms to her body, and the other hand held her by the neck. Christine's sobs threw Erik into a rage. He turned to his right and punched one of the men in the stomach. As he turned to throw another punch, someone grabbed his arm and pulled it painfully behind his back. He was pushed to the floor, his head banging on the wood as one of the men placed a foot on his back. The man sitting in the chair still hadn't moved.
"Do calm down, monsieur. We mean you no harm. I come here to offer you my help."
"Who are you? What the hell are you doing here?" Erik sputtered breathlessly, his face turning a deep red.
"Well, I happen to be a former employee of a very important aristocrat. I believe that you knew each other… le Vicomte de Chagny?"
Erik went into a frenzy, throwing his head up violently and kicking at his aggressors. They pulled back harder on his arm.
"I told you that we are here to help you, monsieur. But you are making it extremely difficult."
Erik's body stiffened. "If that's true, then you will release me."
The man in the chair signaled to his companions and they helped Erik to his feet. One of them tried to dust off his shirt, but Erik waved his arm away. The man in the chair stood and approached Erik, extending his hand.
"My name is Gustave. As I said, I used to work for the Vicomte, searching for you actually," Gustave gave a slight laugh.
"Before we continue this conversation, you will release Miss Daae," Erik said threateningly.
"Of course, mon amie."
The man across the room slowly dropped his arms from Christine's body. She hurriedly crossed the room to Erik's side. As much as she despised Erik, she felt safer with him. She grabbed hold of his arm and stood somewhat behind him, peaking her head out to the side so that she would still be able to pay attention.
Erik tilted his head toward her and whispered quietly, "Christine, go to your room. It's late."
"I don't care how late it is. I'm not tired," she retorted.
"Christine," he replied, his voice becoming forceful, "This is a men's conversation. It does not concern you."
Christine was indignant. A men's conversation indeed! "How can you say that this does not concern me? I have every right to know what my fiancée is doing!"
Erik grabbed her by the arm and dragged her to her room. She threw her arms out to brace herself for the fall when he tossed her inside. Christine saw the anger and the hurt in his eyes as he slammed and locked the door. Christine rushed to the door and furiously began pounding with her fists.
"Erik! Erik! Let me out of here!" Christine's sobs died out as she slowly sunk to the floor. Her fists fell to her side and her muscles relaxed. She wiped the tears from her eyes and pressed her ear to the door to listen to the muffled voices.
"The Vicomte is coming in this direction. He was rather far off when I left his party, but it shouldn't be long until he reaches the village and learns about you and your captive as I did."
Christine's heart was beating so loud, she thought it might burst through her chest. Raoul was coming? Had her prayers finally been answered? She wanted to fling out her arms and sing at the top of her voice. Her knight in shining armor was going to rescue her! The first real smile Christine had made in weeks graced her face as she fell backwards onto her bed. She wrapped her quilt around her body, imagining that she was in Raoul's strong embrace. Christine was brought down from her reverie by a sudden thought. The man had said that Raoul was still far off. Erik was not going to sit around and wait for Raoul to find them. Christine jumped off the bed. She had to do something, leave Raoul some sort of clue that she had been there. She reached under her bed to the loose floorboard. She took out the green notebook and the engagement ring. She placed the book on the desk and hid the ring inside. When Raoul read the book, he would know that she still loved him, that she was still waiting for him to save her.
Erik started pacing back and forth, running his fingers through his hair. "How?"
He knocked a chair over, trying to release some of his frustration. That damned boy was like a bloodhound! He was never going to stop searching for them. Erik knew that. He needed a plan, anything. He couldn't spend the rest of his life running from that insolent youth.
"Don't worry monsieur. My colleagues and I are willing to offer our services. We can help you escape from the Vicomte." Gustave interjected.
"How generous of you, monsieur. But I assume that this offer is not for my benefit alone."
"Don't worry about it, mon amie," Gustave answered mischievously, patting Erik on the back. "We can discuss that later."
