The next morning was Sunday and Helene sat beside her family in the small chapel. For the first time in many weeks, the mood of the family was light. Raoul's note and her own safe return had done much to relieve her parents.
When the time came to approach the altar rail to receive communion, she did not move. She ignored the curious glances.
I am tired of being the virtuous widow. If last night was a sin…so be it.
After Mass, she called for her maid and asked for her valise. She packed on her own, taking a nightdress and undergarments, her brushes…and a green silk gown. She did not to wear the clothes meant for Christine.
I have had enough of mourning…
She went down to luncheon and pretended she did not see the surprise looks from her parents when she entered the room dressed in dark rose silk instead of her proper black.
They were even more startled at the end of the meal when she laid aside her napkin and told them she would be away for a few days, perhaps more.
"I am going to visit a friend," was the only explanation she offered them as she rose.
An hour later, she stepped from the hired carriage at the entrance to the Rue Scribe. She paid the frowning driver and, carrying, her valise, went in search of the door.
She found it…a forlorn portal set deep into the wall. She turned the key in the lock and, as the door swung open, she saw than the heavy hinges were freshly oiled.
As she descended deeper and deeper into the narrow corridor, she had the odd feeling that she was going home…knowing that at any moment, she would emerge into the grotto and find him there…waiting for her.
His back was turned when she at last stepped through a narrow arch and into the candlelight. He had been tuning his violin, but set it aside when he heard her footsteps.
He turned slowly, as if he expected to see only emptiness.
She let her valise fall to the floor and held out her arms to him, closing her eyes as he pushed her back against the wall.
"I didn't think you'd come back to me," he said between frantic kisses.
"But I am here, Erik," she answered, her hands sliding beneath his jacket, "I am here now."
"You didn't have to…"
She laid her fingers against his lips to silence him.
"Yes, I had to return to you."
He lead her down to the setteee, and pulling her onto his knee, leaned his face on her shoulder.
"Your ankle?"
"It still hurts a little, but I can walk…your friend's medicine helped. Thank him for me."
He took her hand and drew off her heavy gold wedding band.
"You are a widow," he said, tossing the ring onto the desk.
She nodded.
"Talk to me, Helene. Tell me about your husband," he said, leaning back and pulling her down to rest against his chest.