They Leave Me

Meg and Antoinette Giry arrived in Dover without further incident and made their way directly to the Gate Inn, as they had been intructed by Christine's last letter. As they entered the lobby, Meg glanced briefly to the innkeeper. "Maman, should we ask…?"

Meg's voice dropped completely away as she caught sight of the man who had suddenly appeared in the small doorway that led to the parlor. He was dressed all in black, his dark hair combed neatly back, and a tan leather half mask covering the right side of his face. But perhaps the most arresting thing about him on this day was the almost hesitant smile upon his face.

Antoinette followed the line of her daughter's eyes and her own mouth turned up in a smile. "Erik." She moved towards him, and Meg followed.

Erik nodded. "Madame Giry, Mademoiselle. I…hope you had a pleasant journey."

Antoinette cast a meaningful look at Meg. "Only a small unpleasantness on the train to Calais. But no trouble otherwise. You look…well."

Indeed, Meg thought he looked very handsome standing in the light, if not entirely comfortable.

"I am. As is Christine. I have been instructed to bring you both to her at once, and it is best not to disappoint her these days."

This was said with an ironic lift of his brow, and Antoinette chuckled in understanding. She well remembered the mood swings of her own pregnancy so long ago. "Then we should go at once."

Erik helped them with their bags and guided them towards his carriage. He helped them both up into the back seat and took his place at the reigns. With a click, they were on their way.

He glanced back over his shoulder at the ladies. "Our house is not very far outside of town; a forty-five minute ride at most."

Meg nodded. "It is a lovely countryside."

"Mm." Erik had already turned back around and made no other attempt at conversation for the rest of the ride.

The little cottage that Christine had mentioned in her letters was not exactly little. It was a very attractive small manor, at least as big as the Marseille House that Meg and her mother had been staying in. And that house had once been considered a good sized Paris Villa before the Marseille family had fallen on hard times and been forced to let the rooms to the public.

The house was set back from the main road and surrounded by trees, so that one could not see it well until turning into the dirt driveway which opened under the archway of a stone fence. It seemed somehow a perfect place to picture Erik and Christine, and Meg could not wait to get inside to see her friend.

As it happened, Christine's own impatience had gotten the better of her. The carriage had barely come to a stop before the front door was swinging open and Christine came racing out. Well, as much as a woman in her eighth month of pregnancy can race.

Erik, who was helping Meg to the ground, slanted his wife an exasperated look, but did not comment at her eagerness.

Christine came to a stop with one hand pressed to her burgeoning belly and the other against her back; her bright smile lighting her entire face. "Oh, you are finally here! I have missed you both so."

Meg knew her own smile must be as bright as Christine's, and the moment her feet were firmly on the ground she found herself in her friend's embrace. "It is so good to see you again, Christine." Meg pulled back slightly and cast her twinkling eyes downward. "All of you."

Christine laughed. "Yes, there is quite a bit more of me now, isn't there?"

By this time, Madame Giry was on the ground as well and laying a hand on Christine's arm. "You look wonderful, Christine. And in good health."

"I am. We are." And she laid a protective hand over her stomach again.

"Come now, ladies, there's no reason to stand about outside all evening."

Christine grinned at Erik. "That would be Erik's polite way of telling me I should go inside and sit down. He does worry so."

Erik glanced away nervously, and Meg could almost swear she had seen his cheek color.

Antoinette chuckled. "At any rate, he is right. I would love a nice comfortable seat while my head stops spinning from all this motion."

With that, the foursome made their way inside to begin the serious business of catching up. The Rousseaus and the Girys spent hours talking about everything and nothing in particular. The housekeeper, a pleasant middle aged woman named Katie, had brought tea and sandwiches and fussed over Meg and Antoinette, who, she was quick to say, her employers had repeatedly spoken of so fondly.

Conversation had begun with the story of Christine and Erik's trip to Dover. Antoinette had wanted to be certain they had no trouble with Erik being recognized.

"None at all, Antoinette. Quite surprising, really. No one outside Paris seemed bright enough to realize who they were dealing with."

"Erik, that isn't nice!" Christine had scolded him, but she had agreed they had been very lucky indeed.

Erik had talked a little about meeting his employer, Mr. Crawford, and securing a job. It had been Crawford who had pointed Erik to the house.

"It is a lovely house." Meg had gushed, and Christine had promised a full tour after dinner. One Erik would guide, as he insisted that Christine should rest.

Of course, the topic of conversation turned eventually, as it must, to the baby. Erik had sat stiffly for a little while, then grumbled about being outnumbered and excused himself. Christine watched him go with a little frown.

Antoinette took note of this. "He is still reluctant to talk much about the child?"

Christine sighed. "Yes. There are moments when he seems so happy and we talk with ease . Then it's as if he remembers that he has no right to be so content. He'll lock himself away in his music room and compose for hours."

"He is worried for you, child. Surely you can see that."

"I would rather he be worried with me, Madame. I feel so alone in this sometimes."

Meg clasped Christine's hand and grinned. "Maman and I are here now, so there will be no more of that."

Antoinette spoke again. "Perhaps I should attempt to talk with Erik?"

Christine smiled gratefully. "Oh, Madame Giry, would you?"

Antoinette chuckled and stood. "Of course, and Christine, you are a married woman now. You really must start to call me Antoinette."

Christine blushed. "Thank you."

When Meg and Christine were alone, Meg grinned broadly. "A married lady. Matronly, even. How droll."

Christine giggled. "Stop it, Meg."

Meg scooted closer on the sofa. "Tell me, Christine, what is it like?"

"Marriage?"

"Yes. And…this…?" Meg dropped her gaze to indicate Christine's pregnancy. "I simply cannot imagine it."

Christine's dark eyes took on a slightly dreamy expression. "It is wonderful Meg. I do not think words can do justice to the utter amazement I feel each day. I am in complete awe that the love Erik and I share has created this life within me. I can barely believe how close I came to never knowing this…to turning away from Erik forever."

"But you did not. And now look at you."

Christine laughed again, making a show of patting her belly. "Yes, look at me. I am beginning to wonder if I shall ever regain my figure."

"It won't be much longer, Christine."

Christine sighed and grew serious. "I know. I worry about Erik if something should happen to me."

Meg frowned deeply. "Christine! You mustn't say such things."

"I would be shortsighted indeed not to have thought of all the possibilities, Meg. I know Erik is thinking of them as well, but he won't talk to me honestly about his fears. We have managed to muddle through a stilted discussion once or twice, but it is always him reassuring me not to worry, or me reassuring him. We never can seem to make any actual plans, in case…"

Meg shuddered a little at Christine's unfinished thought. "Perhaps Maman will be able to help."

"I hope so." Christine shook her head and sighed.

"Well, now that I have thoroughly depressed us both, tell me more about this Monsieur Ranier."

Meg smiled and raised her brows. "There is not much to tell."

"Come now, Meg. I am dying to know what has been happening with you."

Meg dropped her eyes slightly. "Very little really. You've had most of it in my letters. And Jean is…difficult to describe."

Christine grinned mischievously. "Try."

Meg sighed. "Picture Erik without the mask or the moodiness, and then make him a charming rascal."

Christine laughed. "Erik is a charming rascal when he wants to be."

"But Erik is not a rake."

"No, that is certainly one worry I shall never have to face. I know Erik is completely mine."

"And Jean would never be completely mine. So I shall never be his."

Christine eyed her friend carefully. "Why do I sense there is more you are not telling me?"

Meg shrugged. "He is a very determined rake."

"And you are worried his determination will wear down your resistance?"

Meg thought of what Raoul's reaction would be if he were to discover Jean's latest ploy. "Not precisely. But I am certainly happy to have some time away."

For more reasons that one.

Christine nodded. "Time away can certainly bring a new perspective to things. And speaking of time…how is…Raoul?"

And there it was, the dreaded subject. The entire journey here, Meg had debated with herself how much and how soon she would tell Christine. Now faced with the topic sooner than she would have liked, she realized she wasn't quite ready yet for complete disclosure.

"Raoul is…doing well. His parents have recently come to Paris, and they have been attending the theater. He seems…happy."

Christine smiled in relief. "I am so glad to hear that. I want him to be happy again."

Meg forced a smile and glanced over Christine's shoulder to avoid meeting her eyes.

"I know you do, Christine."

"Is he…seeing anyone?"

Meg jerked her gaze back to her friend, searching for any sign that Christine might be upset by the thought. She saw only curiosity. "I…well…actually… he…is."

Christine smiled slowly. "Is it serious, do you know?"

Meg cleared her throat. That is the pressing question, is it not?

She chose her words carefully and again avoided meeting Christine's gaze. "He…has told me he…is in love." Then she rushed to add her deepest worry. "But I…cannot help but wonder if he is really over his love for you."

Christine frowned. "Raoul would not profess to love a woman if does not. He is too much a gentleman."

"I don't doubt his honor. Certainly…he believes himself to be in love. I only wonder if he is being completely honest with himself."

Christine looked away in guilt. "As I was not honest with myself?"

Meg grimaced at causing her friend to relive her own guilt over everything that had happened. "Christine, you must stop punishing yourself for the past. Raoul's happiness is not your responsibility any longer. You should be concentrating on your own happiness."

Christine nodded, a small frown still on her lips. "You're right, of course. But I fear the guilt will never completely leave me. Do you think this woman will make him happy, Meg?"

Meg looked to the floor, her own guilt eating at her. "I…cannot say, Christine. Only time will tell."

A little more time, Meg thought. And I will tell you everything, Christine. And I pray you will not hate me for it.

A/N: Hmm...wonder how Christine will take the news. Stay tuned, dear readers.