(a/n) Thanks you guys for all the great reviews!—LostSchizophrenic, erik'sangel527, Leeainthesky, Goldenlyre, unseenhope18, Crying Wasteland, Monroe-mary, Sue Raven, and forever in a bottle. You have no idea how much they encourage me :pretends like she didn't make threats to get reviews:
forever in a bottle: Thanks!
Sue Raven: Yay, another reader! You gave me an awesome review! I especially loved hearing that you thought my dialogue natural, and that a created a good atmosphere of 19th century London, and that . . . okay I loved it all. My roommate came in the room and asked me why I was grinning.
Monroe-mary: Also welcome to you! I love to hear that you guys read it all at once. Glad to know I kept you on your toes! You also gave a great review!
Crying Wasteland: No prob. I totally agree with you on Erik and Belle. She isn't going anywhere! I hope you will be satisfied with the Madame Giry action in this chapter.
Emily: Hehe, snake boy. A whimpering coward indeed. Well you will just have to see. And ire basically means anger.
Unseenhope18: I fully appreciated your review. Thank you for reviewing despite your exams. It is awesome to hear that your eyes watered at the end of the chapter (and that it had never happened before) I love making people cry :). I have nothing but praise for your awesome review. Thanks again.
GoldenLyre: Hehe I totally understand the wine thing. Just tell me amif I amgood wine—or the cheap stuff. LOL
Leesainthsky: Are you trying to say I wouldn't carry out my threat::attempts to look intimidating:
Erik'sangle527: As always you are an awesome reviewer. Yes I'm impressed with the restaurant myself :preens herself:
LostSchizophrenic: Chapter released! Yes, Erik is an idiot, as you can tell by the chapter heading.
Ok guys, here is the chapter. (a/n)
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Christine
I plopped the mop down upon the cottage floor angrily, and began viciously swishing back and forth, imagining I was shoving the mop in Erik's face. I was furious with the man. When he had left me last night I had been hurt, terribly hurt, but even as I mourned the death of our tender truce, a deep sense of misuse rose within me—spawning pure anger. The man was irrational! He could not wait for my explanations, and instead assumed he knew everything. He was like a typhoon, howling with rage, unable to hear anything over the blasts of own his self-righteous fury. I gave a frustrated growl. Just this morning I had gone to his lodgings, determined to tell him exactly what I thought of him, but he had thwarted my attempts.
I remembered with satisfaction how ferociously I had pounded on his door. The neighbors could not have been happy! But the stubborn man would not answer. Oh he had been there—upon my approach I had heard the angry strains of the piano. At least, I thought maliciously, he could not escape the large black mark my shoe had left upon his door.
"Christine!"
I looked up surprised, Antoinette hardly ever shouted.
"My dear, I called your name thrice before, and you did not answer. I need to have a talk with you." She glanced down at my handiwork and shook her head. "You are making a mess of that. Let me do it, while you talk."
I frowned, "What is you wish to talk about?"
"I must tell you that last night I saw a man talking to Belle at the gate. The man was Erik," she stated calmly.
"I told Belle not to speak with him!" I exclaimed with a scowl, although I had already surmised my little daughter had either disobeyed me or lied to me. How else could Erik have known of Belle's existence?
Antoinette raised a disapproving eyebrow, "So, you apparently already knew he was in town? Did you plan on telling me?"
I blushed, "Antoinette, I am sorry, but things were . . . are complicated."
She gave a short laugh, "This is Erik we are talking about, of course things are complicated. I still do not see why that prevented you from taking me into your confidence."
I opened my mouth to speak, but she silenced me with a wave of her hand.
"Now that I know he is back, I would appreciate it if you would tell me all that has happened."
I sighed, and restoring the mop to the bucket, took a seat.
Antoinette gave the mop a wistful glance, clearly desiring to repair my sloppy work, but she also seated herself, and looked at me with an expectant gaze.
I proceeded to tell her all that happened between Erik and me until last night; concluding, "Now he will not even speak to me. He is frustrating beyond belief!"
She sat in silence for a minute, before asking, "So Reggie approached you for money again? You did not tell me that either."
Pleadingly, I replied, "I did not want to worry you."
"My dear, it is far more worrisome to believe yourself ignorant of the facts. Now, as to the situation with Erik, I must ask you another question. Do you still love him?"
I cast my eyes downward, frozen at the unwelcome question—a question I had avoided ever since he had invaded my life once again. But I could not deny the wanton responses of my body . . . and the longing in my heart.
"Christine?"
I raised my eyes to meet her gaze, and replied in a choked voice, "as much as ever."
"Then I really do not see what all this difficulty is about."
I looked at her disbelievingly, "Just because I love him, does not mean everything is alright! He would have to . . . are you saying you think he loves me?"
"Of course he does, why else would he go to such trouble?"
"Because of his pride! He merely wishes to prove to himself that he can have what I denied him so long ago."
She eyed me reprovingly, "Do you really believe that?"
"I must believe it—if I did not, I would drive myself mad."
"You appear to be driving yourself mad quite efficiently already," she observed. "My advice to you is to tell him everything."
"I . . ."
"I know you feel you cannot, so I think that telling him about Reggie would be a good first step."
"If I can get him to listen to me," I muttered.
A gleam of humor lit her eyes, "I have no doubt you will find a way."
With that, she rose and grasped the mop, effectively dismissing me.
I left her, and climbed the stairs to my room, my mind occupied with various schemes to force Erik into conversation. I discarded my more improbable plans regretfully (the ones involving Erik tied up), and finally settled on one that seemed likely.
Once in my room I changed from my old cleaning clothes into a smart walking dress. I looked very well in the emerald green ensemble; the form fitting bodice accentuated my figure, while a swoop of fabric embellished the narrow skirt in the front before drawing back into the frivolous loops and bows that flowed down from the extravagant bustle. Dainty high-heeled walking shoes engagingly peeped out from beneath the skirt, and pale green gloves, my parasol, and a high beribboned hat, tipped charmingly to one side, completed my outfit. Garbed in this manner, I felt confidence flow through me, and I departed to seek out Erik with my head held high.
When I reached his rooms, located in a comfortable, although not fashionable, building containing lodgings for bachelors, I went straight up and knocked on his door. However, as I had expected, there was no answer and I set my plan into motion. I descended the stairs, and sought out the porter; he sat in a little room near the entrance, observing all the comings and goings, and dutifully making himself available should a tenant need him. As I approached, I noted with satisfaction that, as I had thought, he was a young man of mediocre looks—the perfect prey for my machinations.
"Madam, how may I help you?" he greeted me.
"Well," I said, injecting a good dose female helplessness into my tone, "I am afraid I have a little problem. You see, I mislaid something quite precious to me when I was here for dinner the other night, and Monsieur Legard has not been home all day." I blushed and looked down demurely, to convey my shame at visiting a gentleman, then looking up again I continued, " 'twas a piece of jewelry, and I am afraid my husband has noticed its absence." I blushed deeply again, "I know how this must look, but . . ." I allowed my voice to tremble, and said in a confiding air, "my husband is a cruel brute, and very suspicious, if I don't wear it soon I don't know what he will do . . ." I broke off with a little sob.
The young man looked sorry, but a little disapproving, and replied, "Well I don't know as how I can help you deceive your husband, Madam."
"Oh please! Maybe if I told you . . ." I gave another little sob before continuing, "My husband is very mean, and treats me horribly. He is old, and ugly, and very jealous. My parents married me to him when I was just seventeen years old, when they should have married me to a handsome young man like you!" To my satisfaction I saw him blush deep red, "I have been so unhappy. Monsieur Legard has been so kind. I . . .I swear we are only friends. I just wanted someone to comfort me. So please, please say you'll let me into Monsieur Legard's rooms!" I pleaded, my eyes beseeching.
"Well it does seem rather a shame that such a nice lady such as you should be married to such a horrible old brute. Perhaps I could let you in just this once," he said hesitatingly.
"Oh thank you," I cried, giving him my most bewitching smile, "I knew you were a sympathetic spirit the moment I saw you!"
He stood a little straighter, saying in a business like voice, "Well come along then."
I followed him, allowing a little triumphant smile to curve my lips. Once we reached Erik's rooms he let me in, and said a little nervously, "You'll have to be quick, I need to return to my post as soon as possible."
I agreed immediately, and proceeded to manufacture a search, half expecting Erik to appear at any moment. But he was not there, and after looking for a while, I returned to the porter.
"I can't find it!" I exclaimed, allowing the tears to creep back into my voice.
He looked uncomfortable and said, "Well I am sorry but. . ."
"I will just have to wait here! Monsieur Legard must have them with him!"
"Madam I really cannot . . ."
"I have to stay!" I said, allowing myself to break into full-fledged sobs once more.
He stood helplessly staring at me for a minute, before saying with a sigh, "Oh alright, you can stay, only stop crying."
"Thank you, thank you! I promise you will not be sorry!"
He looked doubtful, but departed, closing the door behind him.
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Erik
I walked down the streets nervously, uncomfortably aware of the bright afternoon sun that exposed me to the curious glances of so many pedestrians. Tugging my hat brim lower, I continued determinedly on my way. I was just one block away from Christine's street when I saw her emerge, and took in breath, immediately turning down the street I had just crossed. Concealing myself, I watched as she walked past me, wondering darkly where she was going.
However I could not allow myself to be distracted from my errand, I had planned on waiting until she was absent anyway, so I repressed the urge to follow her, and continued on to the cottage.
I needed to talk to Madame Giry. After I had discovered Christine last night I had been nonplussed by the idea Madame Giry would support her in her behavior. Surely she did not? I would not speak to Christine, but I could not forgo the chance to learn more about her circumstances.
I reached the cottage, and opened the wooden gate for the first time, looking around for Belle. She did not appear, and I decided she must be inside. I made my way to front door, and gave two sharp raps. From inside the house I heard Madame Giry call, "Run and get the door my dear."
I heard the pattering of running footsteps, and the door swung open. Belle stood there, her lips forming a surprised 'O'.
"Hello Mister," she said a little shyly, and I realized how stern I must look.
Softening my face, I told her, "I have come to see your aunt my dear, may I come in?"
"Alright," she said, stepping back, "Are you going to meet my mother too?"
"Belle, who is at the door?" Madame Giry asked, emerging from a doorway.
When she saw me she showed no surprise, merely saying, "Belle, this gentleman and I need to talk, go out into the garden."
"But I want to see him too!" she protested, warming my heart.
"Maybe later, now go play."
My gaze followed Belle out, before I closed the door and turned back to Madame Giry.
"Come with me," she said, taking me into a little parlor.
She took a seat, and gestured for me to do the same.
"I had rather stand," I said shortly, and she looked disapproving, but nodded.
"Before you speak Erik, I must tell you that Christine has informed me of all your interactions," Madame Giry declared, her expression as impenetrable as ever.
"Does this mean you are fully aware of all of Christine's actions?" I asked sharply, a frown on my face.
"Yes, she informs me of all she does," she replied in a complacent tone.
"Madame, are you sure of this? If you are, it shows you in rather a bad light!"
"Sir, I am aware of what you think of Christine, and I must ask you not to make assumptions."
"I have not made assumptions," I replied in a low growl, "Christine's actions were clearly displayed for all the world to see."
"Erik, for you own good, I must ask you to speak with Christine on the subject. Have you asked yourself why she cares to explain herself to you, when you have already turned the money over to her?"
At the mention of the money, I immediately felt ashamed standing before this woman, my conduct in the affair was not entirely honorable either. However, I concealed my feelings, and reflected on her question. Why did Christine care so much? She must just enjoy dangling me on a string I decided, but the explanation seemed feeble even to me. Finally I replied, "How am I to know what schemes she has in mind now?"
"That is not worthy of you Erik," Madame Giry said, censure evident in her voice.
Standing before her short form, I felt surprisingly intimidated, but I merely replied coldly, "I can see you have nothing more to tell me, I bid you good day."
I strode out of room, scowling, I should never have come.
As I walked out into the garden, Belle ran up to me.
"Don't frown! Are you coming to visit us again?"
I looked down into her sweet face, and felt my heart soften, "I don't know Belle."
Her little brow wrinkled, and she asked "Did you and aunt fight? Whatever about? I didn't think you knew her."
I sighed, "Belle don't ask such questions, it isn't polite."
She looked a little hurt, but replied with spirit, "Why not? I want to know why you won't come see me anymore."
"Belle you hardly know me. You won't even miss me when I'm gone."
"Yes I will!" she declared, stomping her foot.
This was much harder than I thought it would be. We had only talked three times all together, and I didn't know why the child had latched onto me so. But you like it, whispered a little voice.
"Belle, it really isn't my choice, your mother has yet to say you can speak to me."
"Well you haven't talked to her yet," Belle pointed out triumphantly.
"And there is still a chance I will speak to her," I said, inwardly wincing at the half truth, "But for now I must say goodbye."
Giving into to impulse, I reached down and patted her cheek affectionately, before turning to leave.
Behind me I heard a little forlorn, "goodbye," and feeling quite forlorn myself, felt a sudden rush of anger at Christine. This was her fault. If she had not deceived me, even now I might have hope for the future—a future that could have included Belle.
As I walked home, I focused my thoughts on Christine's misdeeds, determined to ignore the sadness I felt at the loss of a future that had never been mine to begin with.
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Christine
I had been waiting for Erik for more than an hour, and the boredom had begun to grow intolerable. Not only that, but an illicit urge to look into Erik's bedroom had been eating away at me. My earlier search had allowed me to explore everywhere else, but I had left that room alone. Now the impulse was too great to deny, and I abruptly sprung out of my chair. Who knew when he would get home anyway?
I walked briskly down the hall, determined now that I had made up my mind. I reached the door, and drawing a deep breath, turned the knob. To my relief no coffin met my eyes, nor was the room hung in black. Instead the room looked quite ordinary, but the fact that it belonged to Erik made it extraordinary. I entered, my attention drawn by the dominating four poster bed. So Erik slept in a bed now? As I gazed at it, forbidden thoughts began to enter my mind, and I pressed my hands to my heated cheeks.
"May I ask what you are doing here?"
I started violently, and spun around to see the object of imaginings standing before me in the flesh. Thrown off balance at being found in his room, all my well prepared speeches left me.
"Are you glutton for punishment?" he asked in a chilling voice.
All at once I found my tongue, my anger resurging to the surface. "I came to demand the courtesy of a fair hearing. You must listen to me!"
"I must do nothing." he replied in a hard tone, his amber eyes cold.
"I will not leave here unless you do!"
"What a charming belief in your own powers," he sneered, "I could easily carry you out."
"I will scream bloody murder if you do!" I announced, surprising myself with my own bravado. I eyed Erik warily, bracing myself for a struggle, but to my surprise he seated himself on the bed, and folded his arms uninvitingly.
"Very well, speak if you must."
I took a deep breath, reminding myself that I was the wronged one here. This would be hard, but I was determined to see it through.
"You saw something last night which you immediately assumed was evidence of some betrayal. You will find that your mistrust was completely unfounded."
Erik gave something resembling a snort, but I pointedly ignored him.
"This is long story, beginning with a man named Derek," I spat the name out with disgust, "He was my third protector. I had not been with him more than month when I realized I needed to escape. He was a perverted bastard, with a horrible temper, and I knew he would hunt me down. But I attempted my escape anyway, hiding at a little inn in the middle of London. He found me there the very next night, I know not how, and dragged me back to his house."
I paused in my narrative, trying to discern Erik's reaction, but his face resembled the mask he wore.
"I knew myself to be in danger; Derek would not scruple to kill me for my insult. So while at his house I managed to hit him over the head with a statue. I killed him." I stated dispassionately, inwardly still feeling disgusted with my own status as a murderer.
I was satisfied to note Erik had started when he heard my words, but his face did not change expression, still hard and cold.
"I was leaving the room when Reggie found me. Suspicious, he kept me captive, while going to explore the room I had just left. He found Derek there, but did not call the police."
"So now you repay him with your favors?" Erik cut in, eyes blazing.
I gave a bitter laugh, "Hardly, I have paid him many thousands of pounds."
Erik still looked upon me with an infuriatingly disbelieving expression, "That still does not explain your charming little kiss my dear. If you hated him you could feel no qualms in informing me of your situation earlier. You had plenty of opportunity."
Rage filled my soul. He still didn't believe even after I had told him my story—my carefully guarded secret!
"Believe me," I declared, trembling with anger, "I despise him even more than I despise you!"
Erik flinched, but his eyes betrayed nothing. He rose abruptly from the bed, and I shrunk away instinctively, but he walked past me to the wardrobe.
He opened the door, and withdrew something I immediately recognized—the Punjab lasso.
"Then you will be more than happy if I rid you of your problem," he challenged, watching me with painfully bright, hard eyes.
"I would have slit his throat myself years ago if I did not lack the courage," I hissed, still in the grip of my rage. Even now he doubted me!
Abruptly I saw Erik's expression change, a lost look entering his eyes, and I could see that he finally believed me.
But it was too late.
"Christine," he said, his voice anguished, taking a step towards me.
"Don't touch me!" I growled, and turned to leave.
He did not try to stop me, but as I left the room I thought I heard him utter, "I'm sorry" in a broken voice.
Once outside in the hall I paused for breath; despite my rage, I felt a desire to return to him—to accept his apologies. But then I remembered his cold face as I told him how I had killed a man, and my heart hardened.
I walked on, and did not turn back.
(a/n) :gives gasp of relief: Okay that last part was hard to write. I wanted to throw them down on the bed and make them apologize for everything, but they wouldn't let me. They are both so stubborn. Please review! (a/n)
