Dear Readers,
I am so sorry for taking so long to update. My computer crashed and I lost the first draft of chapter 18. Not only that, school started last week and I had to get ready to teach first grade. Also I have had a distinct lack of inspiration. Hopefully you will enjoy chapter 18! I hope you didn't give up on me and stop being interested in our story. gasp moan choke sob!
Love ya' lots! Shye Mareck
The sun was setting in a pink and purple sky when Erik and Meg stopped to view the chateau in the distance. "There it is." Erik said bringing his horse to a stop. Meg gazed upon the house which was to be her new home. The gray stone structure was nestled in a remote little valley. Erik seemed eager to get home and urged his horse into an easy gallop. Meg followed. She was still unsure of what to expect. As they approached the house Meg could see the warm glow of candlelight in the widows. Erik had told her about Garrick, Francois and Patsy already being at the chateau. She was almost sorry they would not be alone a little while longer.
The last four days of travel had left her weary, but more importantly she had been able to spend time with Erik. She cherished each moment shared with him. He could make her laugh and comforted her gently when she cried. Instinctively, she knew it was too good to last. He'd talked a little about the time he'd spent in Persia.. Meg caught his far away look and the way he closed his eyes as if he were trying to forget. He was much more willing to talk about India and the people of the Punjabi tribe who had treated him with distant curiosity at first, but eventually came to respect his intelligence and abilities.
They stopped at the front of the house and Erik dismounted. Meg noticed a change in him instantly. It was hard to describe exactly, but he seemed like he was waiting for her approval. Meg smiled at him. The house was impressive from the outside. Meg decided that she didn't care what it looked like inside. It was Erik's home and he'd made her a part of his family. Aside from that, it was bound to be interesting. Although she hadn't thought about it on a conscious level, she'd been prepared to live with him in exile if need be.
Erik reached up and helped her dismount. Though her feet were firmly on the ground she kept her hands on his shoulders and looked into his eyes, trying to read more into his soul than he was willing to share with her. "Welcome home, Madame." He said, searching her face for her own veiled thoughts. A shadow of uncertainty flickered across his brow. Meg raised herself up on her toes and kissed him. Their silent communication was interrupted by the sound of the front door opening and Garrick's shout of 'They're here!' Garrick was quickly followed by Patsy, Francois and Michelle, balancing Bethaleigh on one hip.
"May I introduce to you the Marchioness de Leon." Erik said bowing grandly. His announcement was met with stunned silence. Garrick finally let out a whoop and a holler. Patsy clapped and laughed. Francois beamed and clapped also. Michelle laughed.
"Michelle?" Meg gasped and rushed forward to embrace the girl. It was so good to see a familiar face. Meg was introduced to Francois. He wiped his large hands on his wide apron before shaking her hand. "I'm so very pleased to meet you, Francois, Erik has spoken of you with such fondness. It is good you are here. He is fortunate to have such a loyal friend."
"He is more fortunate to have a lady, such as yourself." Francois countered pleasantly.
"Garrick, help me with the horses." Erik commanded grimly. Meg looked at him, surprised at his tone. No one else seemed to notice Erik's sharpness, unless it was Garrick, who sprang into action and took the reins of both horses. Francois, Patsy, Meg and Michelle went into the house.
Erik headed deliberately for the stables. Garrick followed with the horses.
"Why is Michelle here?" Erik demanded, when the boy caught up with him.
"I thought you said to get someone to do the housekeeping, M'sir. I went to the House of Clureoux to see if Meg was available. But, of course, she wasn't. Michelle said she needed a job. She almost begged for the position." Garrick started to explain.
"You what?" Erik exploded.
"She said...she needed a job." Garrick stammered.
"Not Michelle. Meg. Why were you going to offer Meg the job?" Erik forced the words out while fighting for control. He wanted to knock some sense into the boy.
"I'm sorry, M'sir, but I thought that she wouldn't be frightened by the mask. You said something about getting someone who wouldn't be put off by it. I thought she would be the right sort for the job. How was I supposed to know you were going to marry her?" Garrick hurried to defend his actions.
"Michelle and Meg are ballerinas. What made you think of them?" Erik redirected the conversation.
"They are women." Garrick shrugged with palms out. "Women clean."
Erik stared at the boy, unbelieving. Now wasn't the time and place to educate the boy on classes and social structure. "Michelle didn't need to work. She was provided for." Erik argued. He was still unsure of Garrick's story.
"M'sir, she said she needed to get out of Paris, though she didn't say why. I thought perhaps she would be safe here, in case she is in some danger. I'm sorry if I have done wrong." Garrick was becoming distraught. He hastily filled two buckets with oats and put them where the horses could eat.
"Not wrong, Garrick. I am not pleased that she is here. She has a baby. How will she have time to tend a house if she is tending to the baby? I can see that you didn't think this through." Erik began removing the saddle from his horse. Garrick took the saddle from the palomino and began brushing her down.
"I will help with the baby, M'sir. Please, do not send her away." Garrick said. A pleading look came over him.
"You should be more concerned with your own situation." Erik scolded.
"I am, M'sir. But I'm trying not to think of my own sorry condition. I am ever grateful to you for the way you and Meg nursed me back to health. I have forgotten none of it. If you see fit to dismiss me, I will understand. I am in your debt, M'sir." Garrick stopped brushing the horse and waited for Erik's response.
"I have invested too much in you to turn my back on you now. I suppose I wasn't thinking straight at the time I suggested that you get a housekeeper." Erik paused then looked straight at the boy, "Also, I should have never spoken to you as I did. Don't speak of this again. If Michelle needs some time away from Paris, she is welcome here." Erik said, and finished brushing down the horse.
It wouldn't do for Michelle to know that the presence of her and her child unsettled him. He'd never been around children and it worried him that the baby would be frightened by the mask. He really didn't want to be in the same room with the child, nor did he want to have to avoid her in his own house. What experience he'd had in the company of children was not pleasant. Mostly they'd been frightened, but there had also been the curious and the cruel ones.
Erik wondered about Michelle's reasoning for wanting to leave Paris, but he wasn't about to initiate a conversation with her about it. He had a hard time believing she would be in danger. But, there were other reasons for a girl in her situation to want to leave the city where she was violated.
"M'sir? Is there anything more for me to do?" Garrick asked, bringing Erik's thoughts back to the boy. The horses were put away for the night and it was getting too dark to see.
"No, I'll be along later." Erik told him. The boy left and Erik was alone. He needed time to think.
Meg looked out the window. It was too dark to see anything, but she looked anyway. Erik was out there, somewhere. He had not returned in several hours since putting the horses away. Meg worried, though she tried not to. He had not even come into the house since they'd arrived. Francois had served a delicious meal, but at the threat that it would be ruined if they waited, Meg told Francois not to wait. It would serve no purpose to have everyone else going hungry while Erik brooded. She had learned that he needed his time alone. After so many years without human companionship, he couldn't avoid being distracted by the presence of another.
Meg tried not to be offended. She knew intuitively the others felt it too. Each one was wondering if it was he or she that drove Erik away. Garrick had been especially quiet at dinner. Meg didn't want to embarrass him by asking about it. After dinner, Michelle tended to Bethaleigh, feeding her and getting her ready for the night. Francois, Patsy and Garrick gathered in the kitchen to clean up after the meal and enjoy together what remained of the evening. Eventually they retired and Meg was left alone.
Erik's room was on the second floor. There was a room adjoining his, but he had turned it into his study. There was a smaller room across the hall. Meg had claimed it earlier for her own. It had double hinged glass doors doubling as the only window facing the west and opened out on to a small balcony. She was looking out that window now in the vain hope she might see her husband.
She didn't know that he was looking at her silhouette in the window from the garden below and feeling a swell of pride that she was his. He waited until she doused the flame of the lamp and athletically climbed the trellis up to her balcony. He was in the mood for a little sport. He looked forward to his little adventure with roguish delight. Once safely on the balcony, he quietly opened the door and stepped carefully inside. It was a moonless night and not so much as a spark glowed in the little room. He moved forward slowly reaching out for a stable object that would give him a clue to his precise location within the room. His hand came in contact with something soft; at the same moment a scream pierced the air.
"Darling, it's only me." Erik said and Meg screamed again. "Shh...you'll wake the entire household." Erik reached for her again, but she was gone. Seconds later her heard the sound of a match striking. The flame flared brightly, revealing Meg in her nightgown and lighting a candle. She was trembling and could barely bring the flame to the wick. Once the candle was lit, she looked at him. Her eyes were dark with fury. Erik laughed softly. She gasped.
"How could you!" Meg cried in disbelief.
"Oh, but it was your idea, my dear. I have been waiting for the right moment to frighten you out of your wits." Erik answered smoothly.
"You are hateful...and...and cruel." Meg accused, still shaken.
"No, I'm being romantic!" Erik argued, laughing, a mischievous gleam in his eyes.
"Where on earth have you been? I've been worried about you!" Meg stated indignantly.
"What on earth for?" Erik moved closer, standing so near that Meg felt the vibration of his energy, but he did not touch her. Meg almost backed away from the intensity of his presence, but her knees felt like they had lost their ability to hold her.
"You were gone for so long...I thought something might have happened to you," Meg said. Her reasoning sounded ridiculous as she said it.
"What would happen to me?" Erik didn't retreat and neither did she. Her throat was dry. She licked her lips, trying to restore some moisture.
"I don't know. I just missed you. That's all. We were holding supper for you, but you didn't show up. I told Francois not to wait."
"You did the right thing. I just needed time to myself."
"Why? Did I do something wrong?" Meg asked.
"No, of course not. It's nothing for you to worry about." Erik said, his voice resonating richly through out the room.
"But I am your wife. If I am not allowed to be concerned with your whereabouts, then I should just as well be married to a stranger." Meg moved away then.
"But, you are married to a stranger. I confess that I do not know how to behave as a married person. If you will tell me what you expect, I should try to accommodate you." Erik spoke quietly. She went to him. In his eyes, she witnessed a sadness, which he quickly hid behind a different kind of mask.
"Talk to me, Erik. Tell me what it was that drove you away." Meg pleaded.
"I was not driven away, as you so dramatically put it. I had some things on my mind. I think I'm still entitled to my own thoughts. What is it that makes you want to pry into my mind?" He turned away, putting a little distance between them.
"I love you and I care about the things you care about." Meg answered. Erik stiffened. Her revelation echoed profoundly in his ears, but he ignored the obvious reply.
"Then do not insist that I share my concerns. If you want to help, just be there. It is more than I have dared expect that someone would be there to hear my thoughts, but I find that I am not inclined to discuss everything. And some things are not worthy of discussion." Erik said with finality. Meg did not push the issue further. He did not hear her approach, but she was suddenly standing next to him. She reached out and stroked his arm. Erik turned to her and pulled her close, enveloping her. His chin rested on the top of her head. Words seemed useless between them. They would communicate through touch and emotion for now. If anything needed more, it was going to have to wait.
Early the next morning, Erik followed the aroma of fresh brewed coffee and found Francois in the kitchen. His friend greeted him by name and proclaimed a beautiful day ahead.
"How did you know it was me?" Erik asked surprised that Francois would know who approached.
"I can tell by your footsteps. Yours are heavier than any of the others, but you also approach with caution. Why is that? For one who seems so sure of himself in some ways, you hesitate in your own house. It doesn't make sense to me. Would you like some coffee?"
"Yes, I would, thank you. And, would you forgo the psychoanalysis? It's rather early for destroying the remaining day." Erik scowled.
"I beg your pardon, of course, but I wasn't analyzing your psyche, just your footsteps. It would seem, though, that a hit bird flutters." Francois poured a cup of coffee with the expertise of a seeing man.
"You assume too much." Erik sat down on a chair next to the table. Francois sat opposite him and poured his own coffee. "But you are right in a small measure about my hesitation. I am not accustom to living with other people. I don't like the possibility of surprising someone. But even less, do I wish for one."
"You are not serious. If you do not enjoy surprises, why did I find Patsy, the woman who I loved so many years ago, was in your care? Where did you find her?" Francois asked, his eyes brimming with unshed tears. It was Erik's turn to be surprised.
"Surely...I did not know. She has been living..." Erik stopped. There was so much that Francois did not know about him. Erik had never shared his the whereabouts of his own living quarters. For all Francois knew Erik had always been the Marquis de Leon. Now didn't seem like the time to enlighten him. "I found her on the street. She was being tormented. I swear; I did not know who she was other than a homeless person. Certainly, I didn't know she was your lost love. You said your lover married another. Patsy has not mentioned a husband. In fact, I know very little about her. Are you sure she is the one?" Erik was not entirely convinced. Francois would not have known her by sight. He would have had to depend on her voice to identify her. Her voice could have changed over the years.
"Yes, I'm sure." Francois said flatly.
"How can you tell?" Erik asked doubtfully.
"If you were just to hear the voice of one you loved after twenty years of separation, would you recognize her?" Francois spoke softly. Erik didn't answer the question. Would he recognize Christine's voice in twenty years? Yes, he thought, he would. But her voice was her trademark. Would he recognize Meg by her voice, if he were to suddenly become blind? Yes, and he would recognize just her scent, her touch and the sound of her breathing. All his senses would be on instant alert in just her presence.
"She doesn't seem altogether. I haven't been able to get any straight answers from her about her former life. Although, she did say that her family died of small pox." Erik said, speaking of Patsy. His own love life was not up for discussion.
"Yes, they did. That was why she was forced into a marrying a complete stranger. I was not in a position to support her at the time, so I did nothing. I can tell that she is in a strange condition. She does not seem to recognize me. I suppose I have changed, but she is still a young girl in her mind. It is almost as though she rejected some harsh reality and is suspended in a dream state."
"If she is indeed your long lost love, how old would she be?" Erik asked.
"About thirty-seven. She is five years younger than myself."
"Where is her husband?"
"His name is Eugene Quincy. I only know that he lived in Paris, and was a widower with two small children." Francois supplied.
"I get the impression from Patsy that she had been homeless for several years. I doubt that her husband is still looking for her, if he ever was." Erik said. He had no intention of trying to find the man. Patsy was better off where she was. A vivid picture of Meg being married to Biagio Delvoix came to mind and Erik felt his chest tighten. It would have been torture for him if he had not acted as he did. Francois' deep regret in not fighting for Patsy had haunted him all these years. Erik did not need anymore regrets in his life.
Erik heard Meg approaching. She was talking curiously soft and sweet. It took a moment too long for him to surmise the reason, when she entered the kitchen carrying Michelle's baby. Erik almost jumped with the shock of seeing the infant. Even more disturbing was seeing Meg holding the baby with such tenderness and quiet joy. She smiled, and stepped toward him.
Erik rose quickly and excused himself. Meg looked after him in hurt anticipation. She obviously wanted to show him the baby, but he didn't want to see it. It was a natural gesture, he guessed, for her to want to show the infant to her husband. Women were, by nature, attracted to all babies, he thought, even ones they didn't give birth to. It was also an opportunity to gage the response of the man in her life would have to a potential child. Erik failed the test and he knew it.
Out in the cool morning shade, he wondered how long he would be able to avoid the subject of children, his and Meg's as well as Michelle's child. He tried to analyze what scared him the most. He wondered if it was jealousy that made his throat tighten and his mouth go dry. No. It wasn't jealousy that stirred him when he saw Meg holding the baby. Guilt, perhaps, that he didn't want children? Even more obvious was that he had done nothing to prevent the possibility. How would he explain his actions to Meg if he did such a thing. The thought of denying himself the pleasure of her favors did not appeal to him either. They hadn't discussed children. Meg could already be with child.
Erik tried to envision himself in the role of father. It was then that his greatest fear manifest itself in his mind. He was afraid his children would be ashamed of him. His own mother was ashamed. Mothers routinely loved even the homeliest child, whereas his mother covered his face with a mask. He didn't know how to be a parent. The idea that he could scar a child for life with his ineptness clouded his vison of parenthood.
However, he didn't doubt Meg's ability to be an extraordinary parent. She was of such a gentle spirit; even he sought her tender comfort. A child would do well to have her as a mother. It would be selfish of him to refuse her children. It was another issue in his marriage that he hadn't completely thought out.
Erik returned to the house a short time later for breakfast. He had missed supper the night previous and he wouldn't be doing himself any favors to miss another meal because of his cowardice. He'd just entered the parlor, when Meg approached him, asking if he preferred to breakfast in his study. He was suddenly under the impression that she was trying to buffer him. Was she that astute? Did she pick up on his reluctance to be in the presence of the child. He would not let her know of his fears. A man must be the strong one in a marriage, he thought righteously. To let his wife think or know of his fears was a sign of weakness. She must always know that he would rise to the occasion when necessary.
"Why? Is there a reason why I should?" Erik asked, softly challenging her to speak her of her concerns. Meg didn't show any outward reaction to his question. She merely nodded and proceeded to the breakfast room. Erik washed quickly. He didn't want to keep the others waiting. However, Meg was the only one in the sunny breakfast room. Erik looked around for Garrick, Michelle, Patsy and Francois. Meg looked at him with silent inquiry. He hadn't meant for her to catch his reaction.
"I thought we would have our breakfast together in here. The others are content to eat in the kitchen. They understand that we are still on our honeymoon, in a manner of speaking, and need time to ourselves." Meg stated tactfully. Erik regarded her with suspicious speculation, but sat down at the head of the table nevertheless. Meg poured tea and Erik lifted the gleaming silver cover to reveal steaming food. Francois was indeed a genius. The smell was enough to suggest it. The taste confirmed it.
The breakfast room was a cheerful room with white sheer curtains, a cherry wood table and eight chairs with the seats upholstered in a pink rosebud pattern. The walls were painted a warm creamy yellow on the upper portion of the wall. The lower part was paneled in white pine. A painting depicting a simple farm scene tastefully decorated the side wall. The painting's golden wheat, ready for harvest, blended pleasantly with the yellow wall. A small cherry wood hutch occupied the end wall. Black, austere wrought iron sconces, with thick white candles, hung on either side of the painting and next to the hutch.
Erik hadn't particularly liked this room at first. It was too jolly for his general mood. With Meg in the room, it changed. It was somehow warm and safe. She was wearing a pale blue day dress with cream lace covering the upper bodice and her throat. Her hair was combed up in an intricate looking twist. She looked as pure as the day he married her. It struck him oddly that he would think of it that way. Perhaps he expected his own dark existence to contaminate her.
"You're quiet." Erik commented, realizing that neither of them spoke. There was an undeniable tension between them. Erik was used to being alone and not speaking to anyone for untold lengths of time, but he felt her silence was unnatural.
"So are you." She replied wanly.
"But I'm sullen and generally bad-tempered. Don't tell me my influence is rubbing off on you." Erik teased gently. It pained him to see her so withdrawn.
"I've got a lot on my mind. Sorry if I'm poor company." She forced a smile.
"Don't hide it from me, Meg. Something is bothering you and if you are unhappy, how can I be at peace?"
"It seems like we've had this conversation before. But we've switched roles." Meg answered evenly.
"Are you giving me a dose of my own medicine? I should warn you that I am not as strong as you and it could kill me." Erik said in mock submission.
"You don't like children, do you?" Meg posed the question with a directness that was not unlike her, but it still felt like he'd been punched in the gut. Erik exhaled, taking his time to respond.
"I suppose deserved that. I shouldn't be so hasty to ask next time. But, since you brought it up, it isn't that I don't like children, but rather the opposite. They don't like me." Erik said curtly.
"How do you know that?"
"Please, don't expect me to relive it. I would much rather put it behind me." Erik stated emotionlessly.
"We must talk about it sometime. I may already be..." Meg trailed off. He knew what she meant even if she couldn't bring herself to say it.
"I know. I have already thought about it." Erik had eaten most of his breakfast, but he pushed what remained away. He couldn't eat when his stomach felt this nervous. A bead of sweat broke out on his brow and he felt clammy.
"Surely you knew it might happen." Meg said, an edge of fear in her voice. Erik stood and paced the room.
"I assure you I was thinking about everything else but that. Most of us are undoubtedly conceived in passion...not planning." Erik buried his face momentarily in his hands. When he looked again at Meg, she was crying silent tears. "I have upset you and I'm sorry. Try to understand, Meg."
"What am I supposed to understand? If I am already with child, am I to understand that you want nothing to do with it?" Meg sobbed now, the tears flowing freely down her cheeks.
"Of course not! I don't know exactly. Eustacia said the deformity wasn't hereditary, but how can I be sure? I cannot think of the torment the child would face to bear this mark!"
"I would love it anyway!" Meg declared passionately through her tears.
"How do you know that?" Erik demanded striking his fist upon the table, causing the dishes to jump and clatter.
"Because, I love you!" Meg cried out. She ran from the room then and Erik followed. She went to her room and shut the door, locking it before Erik could stop her. He almost began pounding on it, demanding that she open it, but remembering there were other people in the house stopped him. Instead he went to his room and locked his own door.