(a/n)Thanks to all my reviewers, I love you guys! Ziroana, forever in a bottle, LostSchizophrenic, Witchy-grrl, GoldenLyre. Sorry guys no personal replies tonight. I can barely keep my eyes open.
Ok this chapter is all present day, London, so I just have character headings.
Well here is the chapter. Enjoy! (a/n)
XXXXXxxxxXXXXX
Christine
I gazed absently around the room, absorbing the bright colors and rich furnishings. Reggie and I were dining at Simpson's-in-the-Strand; it was one of the most popular restaurants in London, and society had turned out en masse to enjoy roast joints of beef and lamb carved from the silver-domed trolleys Simpson's was renowned for.
At the other tables people laughed and talked, their chatter creating a pleasant blur of conversation. Fashionably garbed ladies fluttered their hands in expressive gestures, the feathers in their hair bobbing in unison, as they leaned in, all the better to attract their gentleman companions. The darkly attired gentlemen, only too appreciative, laughed deeply at their ladies comments, retorting with some meaningless sally. It was a world I knew only too well, but despite its shallow appearance, I also knew that intrigue and scandal lurked just under the flashy façade.
I was an excellent example.
Reggie's voice recalled me from my escapist abstractions, "My dear, you have hardly touched your desert," he said, shaking his head mournfully. "Do eat up, the sight of you picking at your food is making me feel quite melancholy."
I repressed a glare—I would not let the man see how much he irritated me—and took a bite of my raspberry tart. It was really very good, as it should be, but I was in no mood to enjoy my food tonight.
"So my dear, how does your new conquest feel about our little evening? He looked like quite a volatile fellow at the theater."
I looked up at him calmly, anxious to get rid of the gleam in his eye, "Oh, he is not worried," I replied nonchalantly, "He knows he has nothing to fear . . . from you."
"That sounds like a sensible sentiment," Reggie said without ire, but his eyes promised retribution.
"Reggie! My scamp of a little brother! Imagine meeting you here!" exclaimed Maximilian, Lord Charlbury, Reggie's elder brother, as he approached the table.
Max shared his younger brother's dark hair and complexion, but there the resemblance ended. His appearance was rather more disheveled than Reggie's, communicating a carefree attitude that was not without charm. Jovial and blunt, Max was the exact opposite of his brother's smooth, sophisticated manner.
"Good to see you Max," Reggie drawled with lazy good humor, something like affection appearing in his eyes.
"Ah, and the charming Elise," Max said, "As always, delightful to see you. But I simply cannot understand it; why do you continue to grace my rogue of a brother with your presence? I promise you, I am far more deserving of your company!" he said, with blissful disregard for the lavishly painted blond creature hanging on his arm.
"Max, you are the rogue," I retorted, my voice more animated than it had been all evening. Max was a rather charming ne'er-do-well, up to his ears in debt no doubt, but despite his rakish ways, he was continually good humored, and really meant no one any harm—unlike his brother. I really couldn't imagine Max had any knowledge of Reggie's illicit activities.
"Max, do go away, you are really quite unwelcome at the moment" Reggie said complainingly.
Max gave a laugh, "I see, you wish to keep Elise all to yourself! Well I shan't bother you any longer. Do remember my offer Elise; I can save you anytime, just say the word."
"I'll remember Max," I replied with a wide smile.
Max departed for his own table, and we were left alone once again.
"Elise, my darling, if you smile like that people will think you prefer my brother to my charming self. We really can't have that." Reggie said reprovingly.
"Oh, we would never want them to think that." I replied in a honey sweet voice, "After all it could never be true. Could it?"
"I would hope not. It would reveal a definite lack of taste in you my dear, and we cannot have you ruining your reputation for good taste."
A yawn rose to my lips, and I tried to repress it, but Reggie noticed.
He gave a sigh, "I fear I am boring you Elise. Well I suppose it is time we brought the evening to an end."
He rose and approached my chair, "Come, let us depart."
Gladly, I stood, and took his arm, eager for the night to end.
"Reggie shouldn't you be paying the bill? Would you like me to?" I asked spitefully.
"No, no, don't worry they will put it on my tab," he replied with a pained expression, "I would never let a lady pay Elise. You wound me by asking."
But you don't mind blackmailing a lady for thousands of pounds, I thought acidly, oh the irony.
We left Simpson's and alighted into Reggie's carriage; he insisted on transporting me, despite my preference for hiring a cab.
On the ride he was as talkative as usual, and I partook in the conversation, but only enough prevent a reprimand. Finally we reached my house, and the time came for me hand over the money currently nestled in my reticule. I opened the drawstrings of the bag, and pulled out the envelope, handing it to him.
"Good night Reggie," I said, opening the door in my rush to leave, but he grasped my wrist.
"Darling Elise, you mustn't leave without a proper goodbye," he taunted, pulling me to him. I had been so close to escape! Resignedly I turned to him, and he lowered his head to mine, a dark glint in his eye. He kissed me quite thoroughly, but his touch left me cold, and as soon as he released me I lost no time in making my escape. As I walked away, I heard him call "Goodnight my darling!" and I increased my pace.
Thank God that was finally over!
XXXXXxxxxXXXXX
Erik
I strolled through the streets of London, an unaccustomed feeling of lightheartedness permeating my being. At first I thought to go see Christine, but then my mind turned to her little daughter. I wondered if I could steal another illicit visit. Feeling like a mischievous child I made my way to Belle's street.
I did not hear her as I approached, and when I gazed into the garden I did not see her. Disappointed, I turned to go when a patch of blue caught my eye. Down at one end of the garden, lying between rows of hollyhocks, marigolds, and daffodils, was Belle, looking like a flower herself. She was still as a mouse, watching something intently. For I moment I just stood there looking at her. Then I whispered "Belle"
She did not turn, and I said a little louder "Belle."
She turned her head, her face puckered into a little frown, but when she saw me a bright smile spread across her face. I felt my heart tighten at her look of delight. It had been a long time since anyone had been so glad to see me—if ever.
She sprung up, and skipped toward me, her brown curls bouncing.
"Hello Mister."
"Hello Belle, I was surprised to see you get up, I thought you a flower, rooted to the ground."
She giggled. "Don't be silly."
I smiled, "Now whatever were you staring at so fixedly?"
"Oh," she breathed, "I was trying to get the pixie that lives in the daffodils to come out. She is awfully shy."
"Indeed," I replied seriously, "Have you seen her before?"
"Oh only a glimpse here and there, but I am determined to see all of her, if I have to lie still all day!"
"Do you know her name?"
"Of course! Don't you know that all pixies are named after the flowers they live in? Her name is Daffodil! I am sure she wears a lovely gauzy yellow gown, just like a daffodil, and, if she would just come out, I could see it."
I stared down bemused at this dreamy eyed child before me, all the wonder and belief of youth present in her face. Suddenly a guilty expression spread across her face, and she leaned forward conspiratorially.
"I'm not supposed to talk to you," she whispered.
Had she told her mother about me?
"Why not?" I inquired.
"I told mother I had seen you, and she said I was never to speak to you again. In fact, she told me to go in the house immediately if I saw you."
I frowned. This child was too innocent; she really ought not be talking to me.
"Don't frown! I'll still talk to you a little. Just a little wouldn't be too bad would it?"
I looked at her gravely, "I'm afraid "just a little" is too much if your mother told you not to. Did you tell her you talked to me before Belle?"
She blushed, "Well. . .no."
"Belle, you should not deceive your mother."
She sighed, "I know, but you are so interesting! And very nice! I spend all my time waiting for things to happen, and now that you have come I'm not allowed to talk to you." She wrinkled her nose, "I don't think it's fair."
"Belle, not everyone in the world is nice. I would not hurt you, but others might. Suppose someone tried to steal you away?"
Her gazed turned wistful, "I think it might be exciting to be kidnapped by gypsies. I could travel with them, and dance around the fire at nighttime. The gypsy children always look like they have such adventures!"
I stiffened, "Belle you certainly do not want to be kidnapped by gypsies!"
"Why not! Everyone always says that, but they don't really know!" she declared resentfully.
"I was kidnapped by gypsies Belle," I revealed.
She stared at me. "Really!"
"Yes, and it was not nice or exciting. It was horrible! You see, gypsies only like themselves. They don't like outsiders. They probably wouldn't give you much to eat; they would make you do lots of hard work, and if you didn't, they would beat you. Does that sound fun?"
"No, not at all," she answered in an awed voice.
"Good," I retorted decisively.
"Oooo," she gave a little a shiver. "Now I will be frightened whenever I see a gypsy!"
I repressed a smile, the child really did have an active imagination.
"Now will you listen when your mother tells you stay away from people?"
"Yes, I suppose so," she replied reluctantly.
"Well I am sorry to have to say goodbye to you Belle, but I cannot help you disobey your mother. I have enjoyed talking to you very very much."
"What if you came and talked to her? Then she would see you were perfectly alright! Do come and visit her," she pleaded.
"Well," I said slowly, "Not right now. But maybe, maybe soon."
Belle's eyes lit up, and she jumped up and down. "You must come! You must!"
"Belle, whatever is all this racket all about!" a woman's voice called, from inside the house, before emerging, arms akimbo, to frown at Belle.
I froze. The woman was Madame Giry! I believe I was almost as shocked as when I saw Christine again. I held my breath, waiting for her to speak.
She stared at me a brief moment, and then "Belle come away from the gate, stop bothering that poor man."
"Oh, I'm not bothering him, he likes talking to me."
"Belle, come inside this instant. Do you want me to tell your mother?"
"No . . ." she pouted, "Goodbye Mister, and remember you must come and visit!"
I did not speak, found myself unable to. But as she waved goodbye to me, my hand raised up in reply.
As I left Belle's house—Madame Giry's house? Christine's house?—I wondered if Madame Giry would tell Christine that she had seen me talking to Belle. If she did it might solve many problems, and yet, I wanted Christine to confide in me.
So Madame Giry had been with Christine all along, or, at least, I could only assume she had. This was an interesting turn of events; Madame Giry's presence meant she must know about Christine's profession. Did she support Christine's actions?
I wondered what had happened to little Giry. Surely she didn't live there too! I suddenly smiled, picturing the managers and Carlotta living there as well.
To my surprise, I heard a chuckle emerge from my own mouth. I was undeniably in a good humor, despite the confusion still reigning in my relationship with Christine, I couldn't help but feel hope for the future.
I turned onto the street Christine's house, Christine's other house, was on, with the intention of visiting her. But the butler informed me she was not at home. I was disappointed, and yet it would give Madame Giry a chance to inform Christine of my talking to Belle. Then maybe we could finally hash things out.
Later that night, I once again set out to visit Christine; I was too restless to wait for morning.
As Christine's house came into view, I wondered if she was back yet. Had she simply been at the cottage earlier? The entire situation was a little ludicrous.
I drifted under the shadows of the trees lining the sidewalk, feeling myself comfortable in the darkness of their shade. I was just upon the house, when I saw a carriage drive up, and I paused under the trees, watching to see who emerged.
The door opened, and my gaze absorbed a woman's form, about to descend, she turned her face to the light, and to my surprise, I saw it was Christine.
Who was she with? Where had she been?
From my view I saw I man lean forward and grab her wrist.
Abruptly I felt angry. Damn him! He would not force her! I almost started forward, but she willing retreated into the carriage. Then, to my shock, I saw his lips descend to hers, and she did not push him away! Hurt welled up in me like a sickness as I watched their mouths meld.
God I was stupid! Rage abruptly replaced my, and a red mist clouded my gaze.
What must she thought of me last night! Such a love struck fool! Telling her she could have the money, giving her a choice. I need time, she had said last night, and I had believed her. In reality it had just been a ploy to soften my mind—to deceive me. She had manipulated me so easily—in my stupidity I was almost as much at fault as she. Well she would not find me so easy to manipulate now!
"Goodnight my darling!" I heard him call, and only then did the usurper's identity burst upon me. The man from the theater. That damned serpent! Perhaps she had been seeing him all along. Why did I let this woman get to me? What was it about her that turned me into an utter idiot?
Well she would deceive me no longer. As the carriage rolled away, I strode into action. I was unsure of what I meant to do, but Christine would not escape my wrath. Abruptly, Belle came to my mind, and the rage intensified. How could she do this with a child at home? By God, she would now have to answer to me!
XXXXXxxxxXXXXX
Christine
I entered the library, and headed straight for the decanter. Really, this was quite my favorite room in the house. Books and drinks—what more could one want? I took a sip of the sherry, relishing the soothing sensation of the liquid running down my throat. Slowly I let myself relax, releasing my taut muscles from the hold I had maintained all night. Suddenly, I heard a sound behind me, and turned to behold Erik standing on the threshold, his figure dark and forbidding.
"Madame," he bit out, his tone cold and hard. But the ice in his voice was nothing in comparison to the blaze of his eyes, and I felt the heat of them as he ran his gaze down me, "You look well tonight."
I felt suddenly afraid, "Erik . . .what's wrong?" I faltered.
"Need you ask?" He gave a chilling laugh, "Don't bother to pretend. I saw you tonight with your lover. Or maybe I wrong you, another customer perhaps?"
My glass fell to the floor unheeded, and its contents flowed out onto the carpet in a dark ruby flood.
"No!" I cried, shocked, "Erik, it's not that! You don't understand! Reggie. . ."
"Cease!" he shouted, his voice booming through room. "Spare me your explanations Madame! I know now that only lies pass your lips! Did you think that you could fool me? Oh I did think you were sweet and sincere, but your deceptions have ceased, you will not find me such easy prey now."
"Erik. . ."
"Don't speak!" he growled, clenching his fists. "If I hear your false pleas, I swear I will not be responsible for my actions."
I let out a sound nearly resembling a whimper.
He strode forward, grabbed my wrists, and held me away from him.
"Let me get a good look at you. I must memorize the image of a lying doxy, so that I will not be so taken in again."
A gave a little gasp, tears starting to my eyes.
"Don't waste your tears on me! I'll not fall for such tricks," he sneered, his voice painful to my ears. "Why could you not be content with what you had? I gave you enough money to last a lifetime. But your insatiable greed led you on! By God, if common decency doesn't stop you, at least think of your daughter!"
I gazed at him in horror. He knew!
"Oh yes, I know. Do you want Belle to know that her mother is a harlot? To hear her branded a whore's daughter? She is an innocent sweet girl, and you will not drag her down with you! You do not deserve the child!"
"What . . .what?"
His grip tightened painfully on my wrists, and as his figure loomed above, all I could see were the flames that burned in his eyes.
"Don't worry, I wouldn't deprive Belle of her mother," he spit out, his voice turning the word 'mother' into an insult. "You will never see another man again. Do you hear me? Go home to your daughter, and do not come to this house again. Sell it if you must."
"Erik . . ."
"Silence! Do not speak to me! You will not be seeing me again, but don't think I won't know what you do. I will be watching you. And if you should disobey me, there will be hell to pay!"
With that he violently released my wrists, and I fell to the floor, bursting into sobs.
I heard him walk away, and he did not turn back.
(a/n) Okay a couple notes. Max is Lord Charlbury, not Grantham, because lords had a family name as well as a title. Oh and I actually did a little research to unearth Simpson's. Ok now you better review! Or else I am completely capable holding the story hostage. Muhahahaha. (a/n)
