Chapter Summary: Erik and Annalise spend summer afternoons together, a bond forming between them.

CHAPTER SEVEN

The next two weeks passed by quickly for Annalise. In the morning she would breakfast in her room before sitting down to write her parents, sending one of the retainers to post the letter on the noontime coach. She would then read to her great-aunt or play the piano before luncheon after which Adele would retire for an afternoon nap. It was at that timewhen Annalise would escape from the confines of the house to wander the gardens. She always stayed within sight of the house until she was sure that Adele would be sleeping at which point Annalise would meander towards the woods at the top of the hill, knowing that the strange man with the sad eyes would be there waiting for her.

"Monsieur Lachaise," she had said the third day that they met.

"Erik, Mademoiselle, just Erik," he had told her, finally smiling at her without any sadness or bitterness.

From that moment forward they had only addressed each other by first names, a bond growing between them that Annalise did not understand and Erik had no need to manipulate.

"You have spoken warmly of your time spent here," Erik addressed Annalise one afternoon as they sat on the fallen tree trunk near the hidden spring. Annalise had her face turned towards the sun, eyes closed, a smile on her lips. Erik found he could now look at this young woman without having his heart torn in two. "Yet I know little of your family."

Annalise's smile grew larger. She lowered her face, opening her eyes, turning to look at the man seated next to her. "What would you wish to know?"

Slowly, Erik thought, slowly. He had waited all these years for news of his beloved angel; he could afford to wait a little while longer. "Tell me of your brothers," he replied.

So he had listened as she described her brothers.

"Jean-Paul is the eldest," Annalise began. "Being the eldest child and the oldest son means he can be a bit strict at times. We used to tease him when we were small that he thought he was Father and we would always say "yes sir" and "no sir" to him." She laughed softly at the memory, a sound that thrilled Erik. "Then we would run away so he could not catch us and give us a thrashing."

"I do not think he would ... er ... thrash you."

"No," Annalise agreed. "He would never have done such a thing but he would give me one of these looks." She turned to Erik, putting her fingers at the sides of her lips, pulling them down and knitting her finely arched eyebrows into a frown. "And I would laugh at him because he looked so silly. He would get frustrated with me and he would say he was going to tell Maman and then I would go running after him, begging him to not tell." Her eyes grew soft. "I never wanted to have my mother angry with me." Her tone was affectionate. "None of us ever did."

It was all Erik could not to let his breath escape in a huge sigh. "Of what is this brother like now?"

"Still serious, still very much trying to be Father. He is going to inherit the title, after all, and he wants to make Father proud of him." Annalise grinned widely. "And the best thing is that he and his wife had a little boy two years ago. His name is Bertrand and he has his mother's red hair and he laughs at everything!"

A grandmother? Christine was a grandmother? Erik thought, a sharp pain stabbing him in the heart. It could not be possible! Not his sweet angel!

"M'sieur?" Annalise said as she extended a hand to the suddenly stricken man next to her. "Are you alright?"

"Erik, child, just Erik," he told her. He had not wanted to frighten her but had not been prepared for what she had told him. "I am afraid I grow tired." He reached over to lightly touch her hand, the feel of it so much like another hand he had once held. "May we continue this tomorrow?"

"But, of course," Annalise replied, laying her free hand over the one he had placed on hers.

Erik had gone back to his home only to sit up all night, deep in thought, memories clamoring for a place in the crowded corridors of his mind. He looked down at his hands, the very hands that had once held Christine in such a loving manner only to turn on her when he felt she had betrayed him. Now this child, this daughter, was within his reach, touching him without fear or pity and all he could do was let her.

All he could was let her.

"What of your other brothers?" Erik had asked the next day. He had wanted to cry when he found his angel's daughter there, in the woods, waiting for him, concerned for his health. She had stood and walked over to him when he had emerged from his pathway, taking his arm, guiding him to the fallen tree, helping him to sit, keeping her arm intertwined with his. She was so sweet and so gentle and so innocent - so much like her mother.

"Well," Annalise began. "There is Richard and he is two years younger than Jean-Paul. He is quiet and serious. He always got the best grades at school. Yet he was the one who had the most patience with me when I was a small child. He never yelled at me like Jean-Paul or got me into trouble like Gustave."

"Gustave? That is your other brother?" Erik was surprised to see a blush creep into Annalise's cheeks.

"Will you promise not tell a secret?" she asked him.

Erik laid a hand over his heart. "I promise."

"I love all my brothers with all my heart. They look out for me and are very kind to me but Gustave is my favorite brother."

Erik patted the hand resting on his arm. "I shall not tell but in return you must finish telling me of this middle brother, Richard."

"He, too, is married." Annalise twinkled merrily. "And he and his wife also have a baby."

Erik felt the pain stabbing him in his heart again. She had another grandchild, yet another offering of faith that there would be a future for her family. Where was his promise to the future?

"They have a little girl named Chloe. She does not do much but smile and gurgle. She is only a few months old, you see."

"Your family is truly blessed," Erik managed to get the words out without letting his tone of voice betray the bitterness and disappointment that never seemed to leave his soul no matter the joy illuminating the soul's darkness.

It was another summer afternoon. Another few hours to spend in the company of the daughter Erik wished were his own.

"Gustave is named after my mother's father," Annalise was telling him. "Maman has told us her father was a great violinist. She has taken us to visit his tomb in the cemetery."

Erik stopped breathing for a moment at the mention of that cemetery. He could still feel the chill of that long ago winter. He could still see his angel, dressed in black, a living shadow against the early morning stillness. He could still hear the sound of swords clashing, the cry of pain as steel ripped flesh and the echo of hoof beats as she had fled with that man. Erik was certain that Christine had never told her daughter of that trip to the cemetery. Perhaps, he thought, it was just as well.

"And Gustave plays the violin, as well," Annalise was continuing. "Maman says he is almost as good as her father. I think one of my favorite things to do is to play the piano while Gustave plays the violin. I know that it makes my mother smile."

Erik was amazed. He had not thought that man would understand or allow creative freedom. "You have music in your home?"

"We have always had music in our home. My mother has a voice that is truly a gift from the angels."

At least one angel, Erik thought.

"She does not sing very much anymore." Annalise thought for a moment. "Well, she does not sing much except for us. One of the first things I can remember is sitting in Maman's lap while she sang to me. She sings while we are in church, of course." She turned to look at Erik. "Did you know she sang at the opera before she married my father?"

"How fascinating," Erik said softly. "Does your favorite brother sing, as well?"

"He tries but he is much better at the violin," Annalise laughed. "And he is very good at keeping my secrets. I keep his, too, you know. We know things about each other that our parents will never know. Well, at least we do not think they know."

"You are very close to him, yes?"

"Very close for we are only two years apart and by the time I was old enough to really appreciate the fact that I had older brothers to play with, Jean-Paul and Richard were already at school most of the day. That left Gustave and I to be playmates and he was always ready to humor me and my wild fantasies about dragons and fairies and oh, so many things!"

"I am glad you have this companion, Annalise," Erik told her. "It is always wise to have one person to whom you can entrust your deepest secrets."

"Did you ever have someone you could trust?" Annalise wondered as she watched the sky. It was growing late in the afternoon and dark clouds were gathering overhead.

Erik, too, had seen the dark clouds when he had left that morning to join the daughter of his heart for their daily talk. Now the dark clouds had descended and were covering his soul. "Once there was someone I loved dearly but she is lost to me now." Erik sighed. "She has been gone many years."

Annalise rested her head on his shoulder; it was all Erik could do to not to jump through his skin. "I am very sorry. It must be very sad for you. I do not know what would happen to my father if something were to happen to Maman. It would break his heart, I think."

It had finally come down to this. Erik did not wish to hear about that man but could find no way to avoid it. He knew he could listen as Annalise talked about him for that would mean that soon he would be able to hear more about her mother, his beloved Christine.

"Your parents are happy, than?" Erik asked as he watched Annalise dip thin hands into the clear spring, raising the water to her lips. Once again the sun had come out, smiling down upon the French countryside. So why did Erik feel like the darkness was closing in upon him?

Annalise turned and walked back to the fallen tree trunk, sitting down next to Erik and smiling her thanks as he handed her a handkerchief with which to dry her hands. She went to hand it back and he pressed it into her hands.

"A memento of our time together," he told her and was rewarded with a bright smile as Annalise tucked the fine, embroidered linen into the belt of her skirt.

"Thank you, I shall hold it dear." Annalise sighed. "I think my parents have been very happy together. I do not think I have ever heard my father raise his voice to my mother. I know that there are times when I see him looking at her and there is something in his eyes that I do not understand. My Great-aunt Adele says I should not worry over it as there are things in marriage that will always remain secret."

"She is a very wise woman." Erik could not bear the thought that this child who accepted him without question would ever learn anything that would cause her to turn from him. He knew it would destroy him should that happen.

"Yes," Annalise agreed, "she is very wise." She tilted her head and a sweet smile crossed her face. "I think it is a family trait. My father is also very wise. He has always been there for me. He would kiss away my hurts when I was small and he listens to my concerns now that I grow older. He taught me to ride and made sure I had the best schooling." She giggled. "Father made me recite my lessons so that he knew I was not wasting my time and that I would be as educated as my brothers. He also convinced Maman to give me dance and piano lessons but she would not let me have voice lessons. That was one of the few times I can ever remember Father not being able to get round Maman. It is another of those things that I do not understand." She sighed happily. "I love my father. He lets my soul run free."

It had never occurred to Erik that that man would ever think to let this happy girl's soul run free. He had expected some aristocratic, authoritarian despot ruling over his angel's children's lives, ruling over his angel. He had not expected that man to be so understanding, so open. He had thought that Annalise's joy in life had come only from her mother, his angel, and not from her father. It was an idea he could not comprehend, his sight colored by years of hurt and resentment towards that other man.

It was their last day together for Annalise had told him that she would be going home the next day. Now, he could finally ask about his angel, his beloved Christine. "And what of your mother; what is she like?"

"My mother is so wonderful," Annalise told him. Erik noticed the tears at the corners of her eyes. "I do not know how to describe her to you." She thought quietly for a moment. "She is very beautiful with a very gentle spirit. I do not think she has ever raised her voice to any of us and I know that we never want to give her reason. We all adore her, you see. I do not think I could have asked for a better mother. She is very strict with me but I do give her reason at times, I am afraid. I think she just wants the best for me, for all of us."

"As any parent of such a charming family would, I am sure," Erik replied, secure in the knowledge that, at least, his angel was happy in her children. He could not bear to think about her marriage, her life with that other man, their days ... their nights. His fantasy, his dreams would rest in the thoughts that this girl next to him was their daughter, their very own angel.

"I must go," Annalise told him, looking at the watch hanging on a chain around her neck. She turned large, tear-filled eyes towards him. "I ..." she tried, her voice catching in her throat. Suddenly her arms were around him. "I shall miss you!"

Erik was too stunned to react. How many years had he longed for someone to reach out for him without coercion? How many were the nights when he had dreamed what it would be like to have someone accept him without question, without fear and loathing? Now, here was this girl, her arms wrapped warmly about him, a gesture of acceptance and friendship given freely and of her own accord.

"I shall miss you, as well," Erik finally managed as he reached to pat Annalise on the back. He was committing the feel of her in his arms to memory. It frightened him how much he longed for the embrace to continue so he broke it, gently holding Annalise by the arms, reaching in to kiss her lightly on the forehead. His heart soared at the same moment it was breaking when she did not flinch from the touch of his lips. He stood, offering her his hand. "Come I shall walk you to the edge of the woods."

They walked hand-in-hand through the woods, silent in their companionship and in their sorrow at parting.

"May I write to you," Annalise asked as they reached the edge of the woods that would take her home.

How Erik was tempted to say yes to that simple request! "I think not, Annalise," he told her instead. "Let us keep these weeks as our secret time," he reached out to touch her cheek; "a time when a lonely old man was visited by an angel." Erik raised one of her hands to his lips. "And let us say adieu and not au revoir for, perhaps, we shall meet again. Now go, child."

He watched as Annalise studied his face, giving him a gentle smile before walking out of the woods and into the sunshine. He watched from the shadows as she moved down the small hill, stopping halfway down, suddenly breaking into a run. He wondered at that until he directed his gaze towards the direction in which she ran. There, at the edge of the estate gardens, stood a tall man with sandy brown hair, his arms opening wide and closing as Annalise ran into them. He spun her around, finally letting her down and kissing her on the cheek. It was an image all too familiar and too painful to Erik.

He turned on his heel and walked back into the shadows.