Meg stared at the blank page in front of her. She felt it a duty to write to her mother. After all that had happened in the past week, it was the least she could do to put her mother's mind at ease to a minor degree. Meg didn't really expect forgiveness anytime soon. Perhaps in the next forty years just before Madame Giry passed on, she would find it in her heart to forgive her daughter. Meg didn't blame her mother if she was angry. Madame Giry had known it wouldn't be easy to love Erik. She did her best to discourage the relationship. Meg wouldn't give her the satisfaction of knowing that she and Erik were barely civil to one another. Meg wrote, describing the house and gardens, Bethaleigh and Michelle. She only mentioned that Erik had taken pride in restoring the old house and the pleasure it gave him. She kept the letter on an upbeat note, careful not to let anything slip that she might have to explain later. The letter didn't include an invitation to visit. Meg didn't want her mother there...ever. Any visiting would be arranged for in Paris. It was a relatively short letter, considering all that had transpired over the past weeks.

From the small parlor, Meg could hear the sound of pounding coming from the basement. Meg hadn't been down there, since she arrived a week ago. But, she knew the pounding came from Erik working on a mysterious project. He didn't share it with her, though Meg suspected that he was finishing the basement room as a retreat for himself, as if there weren't plenty of lovely rooms in the chateau. For the past six days, he hadn't said two words to her. She knew he was angry, but not with her. His struggle came from within. He had to eventually come to terms with their marriage and the consequences of his behavior. Meg ached for him. There was nothing she could do, except to be patient.

Erik had another project that fascinated him for the moment. He'd performed his grape harvest just thee days before and now the fruit fermented in oak barrels. Erik anticipated a delicious dry wine from the mash to stock his empty wine cellar. Meg overheard Erik telling Francois about the wine, otherwise she would have not known of his intention to make wine. She continued to be surprised by his knowledge and willingness to experiment. There would never be a dull moment in his company. For the time being, however, the climate in the chateau was edgy and uncertain.

The others did not speak of Erik's foul temperament. Like Meg, they tried to be cheerful and patient. Garrick was obviously smitten with Michelle and the baby. He followed them around like a lovesick puppy, eagerly tending the baby when Michelle was busy. Bethaleigh was becoming more adorable each day and it was hard to resist her bright eyes and quick smile. She was a good baby, rarely disturbing the household with cries of distress or temper. Her chubby arms and legs were a source of pride for everyone, indicating good health and pleasant disposition. Francois and Patsy spent a great deal of time in the company of one another. Meg wasn't sure of what the connection was between the two but they seemed happy when they were together. Patsy became as giddy as a school girl when Francois teased her affectionately.

Ordinarily, Meg would have liked spending her time with Erik, but as it was, she was often alone. It had been that way since the day she arrived at the chateau. The few pleasant moments she'd had with her husband had been nothing like she expected, though she was still unsure of what exactly she did expect. In her dreams, she thought about nights spent in his arms. That hadn't happened yet either. He always left her after she fell asleep. In spite of her efforts to not feel resentful, it still bothered her. Every fiber of her being longed to go to him and be held safe in loving arms.

Meg was feeling so depressed, it was hard to see a future with Erik. If he did not pull out of his mood, she would go insane. A lump rose in her throat. Though it was still too early too tell for sure, Meg felt instinctively that she was with child. In reality, she hoped for it with all her heart. If Erik was as stubborn as Meg knew he could be, she may not have another chance to conceive. He deliberately ignored the risks of pregnancy those first few days after they were married. Meg knew it. He wasn't stupid, but neither was he completely immune to the natural desires that arise between a man and a woman.

Secretly, she wished that she could blame his lack of self denial on her feminine allure, but the truth was that he would have probably acted the same with any woman. It wasn't common in her nature to sell herself short, but her self-confidence was shaken considerably. She'd been the one to seek him out in her ambition to win him. Was it a grave mistake to believe that he would really love her as she did him? She was so confused. In reviewing the past week and a half of her marriage, Meg decided that she'd been too patient with Erik, allowing him to carry on in a nasty pout over something that he should have come to terms with by discussing the situation with her. Instead he was in the basement pounding away with a hammer, taking his frustration out on oak panel. That was about to change. Meg had no intention of giving up on her marriage so soon. Erik would have to face up to the fact that he had a wife who loved him and wasn't going to let him return to being a sulky recluse.

Erik had not resurfaced late into the evening, remaining in the basement hours after Garrick had taken dinner down to him. Meg anxiously paced in the parlor rehearsing, in her mind, the words she would say to him. She wanted to tell him how she felt without alienating him completely. Words to the effect that if he was determined to give her the silent treatment, then he should just tell her how long he intended to carry it out formed in her mind. She would mark it on the calendar and not expect anything until then, but when the time was up, he should be prepared to act human. She did not realize that she had began talking to herself until she felt an unmistakable presence. Meg looked up to see who it was. Her husband's large frame filled the doorway, blue eyes looking at her with bemusement.

"Was that speech meant for me?" Erik asked, his lips twitching in opposition to a smile. Meg blushed, every harsh thought evaporating in a surge of heat that rushed through her. There was something so powerfully male that drew her like a magnet. What was she so upset about? It was something important, she knew. It happened every time. She could not stay angry with him while in his company, heartbroken perhaps, but not angry.

"I...was... Yes, it was." Meg stammered.

"Preparing an ultimatum for me?" Erik spoke low, his voice rich and resonant.

"Well, not exactly, but it was of a similar nature." Meg admitted. It would serve no purpose to pretend that all was well.

"Do I get the whole version or just the dress rehearsal?"

"I don't know. I hadn't finished it yet, but I think you already know what it was about."

"Do I?" Erik stepped into the room, moving with a grace that almost caused Meg to forget to breath. He wore a mask of tanned leather, black trousers and one of his customary white shirts. There was the scent of wood mixed with perspiration and new wine about him.

"Are you suggesting you don't?" Meg recovered somewhat from the initial shock of finding him in the doorway.

"I got the part about marking the calendar for the date that I am expected to act human." Erik said flatly. Meg tried to gage his mood by his reaction, but he hid his feelings well.

"Well, your pouting has become tiresome. We can't live like this. I shall go mad if my own husband won't even speak to me because I may be carrying his child!"

"Is that what you think?"

"What else?" Meg demanded.

"It was you who ran from me. You locked your door against me. What did you expect me to do?"

Meg stared, speechless, unable to answer. "I...I don't know." She managed to stammer. Really, she hadn't thought about it like that, but then she remembered her own righteous indignation. "Forgive me if I over reacted to being told that our child may not be welcome." She retorted.

"You have an uncanny ability to rush to conclusions without all the facts. I admit that children have not been a priority with me. Neither has it been a priority to not have them. I never thought that it would become an issue. For that matter I never expected to be married. You ran out on me before I could fully explain that I do not intend to reject my own offspring regardless of what condition they may arrive in. Even in her sorry maternal efforts, my mother gave me life when she could have let me die, nursed me and protected me to her best knowledge. How could I do less? My concerns are my own. I won't burden you with them."

"Don't say that. I want you to confide in me, Erik. I regret my reaction. Truly, I do." Meg began to cry.

"Don't cry." Erik moved closer but did not touch her as she so wished he would. She wanted to be held close more than anything else at the moment.

"I can't help it. I don't understand why I am so weepy. I'm not usually this way." She sniffed.

"It has been a traumatic week. I confess, I too am weary of the contention between us and wish to be done with it. It is late. You should retire now so that you don't become ill." Erik gestured toward the door but still did not touch her.

She longed for the days when he would have simply carried her to her room and made love to her. Meg went upstairs to her room. Erik followed. She stopped at her door and looked expectantly at him. He carried a candle for lighting their way. Meg opened the door to her room and entered. Erik went in, also, and lit an oil lamp from the flame he carried. She wanted to ask him to stay but lacked the courage. If he wanted to, he would. He did not stay, though he paused at the door and fixed her with a look that challenged her in some way. "Goodnight, Madame," he said and closed the door behind him. Meg cursed softly.

Meg dressed quickly for bed and climbed beneath the coverlet, but sleep would not come. She tossed and turned restlessly. Minutes passed, though they seemed like hours, or perhaps hours had passed. Meg did not know. Her mind was alert and her body tense. After debating the idea for several minutes, Meg threw off the covers and jumped out of bed. She opened her door carefully as to not make a sound, but the hinges squeaked anyway. A faint glow shone from under Erik's bedroom door. Hesitating briefly, she tried the door knob. It was unlocked. For a moment, she was too surprised to continue. Surely, Erik would have locked it...unless he was expecting someone. Slowly, Meg opened the door.

The room was larger than her own. At first she did not see Erik and wondered if he had not gone to his room at all. Several lamps were lit and it would have been unusual for him to leave them unattended. Then a movement caught her attention as Erik stepped out of the shadows near a window and into the lamplight.

He was wearing a black satin robe, embroidered with many colors in a oriental pattern. It was open to the waist. Meg was unsure of what to say. "Your door was unlocked." She said for the lack of courage to say what was really on her mind.

"It's been unlocked since I brought you here. I only locked it once, but it was pointless since you had already locked yours. Our communication is a strange sort."

"I...I didn't know if I was welcome here. You told me once that you sleep alone." Meg said, realizing that she'd been holding her breath.

"I do. But, what kind of man locks his door against his wife? You caught me off guard once. Since then, I've had some time to regret the way I responded to you. I'll not treat you that way again. You have my promise." Erik spoke quietly. His voice held a timbre that drew her in closer to him though neither had moved. Something had changed. The air almost crackled with the electrical energy which flowed between them. Meg stepped further into the room after closing the door behind her. Her action seemed to satisfy him. His quick intake of breath parted his lips and for a moment neither could speak. Erik made the first move, by distinguishing the lamps. He went to put out the last one when Meg stopped him.

"No," she said softly. Erik looked at her in some surprise. "I want you to see me, know who I am." The words almost choked her, but they needed to be said.

"I know who you are, Meg. Do you honestly believe that I think of someone else?" He asked in astonishment, but dropped the hand which would have put out the light.

"I don't know, but I want to...need to know that you see me and only me. I know how much you loved Christine...still love her–."

"She made her choice. Don't let her interfere with what we have. I won't lie to you and tell you that I never think of her or that I don't love her. But it is a different kind of love that has evolved between you and I. It is unselfish and complete. For I do love you, Meg. You do not know how much it means to me that you came to me tonight. Each time I came to you, you were willing but I had to make the first move. At first I liked it that way. But when I thought you might be with child, I needed to know that it was something you would choose for yourself."

"I do want children. How could you think that I didn't?" Meg cried out softly.

"It was not just a matter of wanting children. I wanted you to want mine enough that you would accept that our children may be like me." Erik took a step backward betraying his doubt.

"Our children won't be like you, Erik. They will know from the moment they are born that they are loved. If they look like you, I won't let them hide behind masks. I want them to be proud of who they are."

"So you will be content with a pack of little gargoyles running around the place." Erik said, not yet convinced.

"Of course, I will." Meg said, laughing.

"What if they are ashamed of their father?"

"How could they be, if they are taught to love and are loved?"

"There are no guarantees." Erik countered.

"I know, but if you never take a chance, you have a guarantee of nothing."

"What a wise woman you are. Did you take your chances in marrying me?"

"Yes, you said as much yourself that we were barely more than strangers. You said I was infatuated. Of course, it was all true. I thought I was in love, but now I know I am. Each day, I am more aware of you, how generous and caring you are–."

"Are you sure you're not the one thinking of someone else, now?" Erik cut her off, obviously uncomfortable with her words of praise. "You make me sound like a saint."

"Don't sound so disgusted. There are worse things than sainthood to compare to." Meg said in defense of herself.

"There are so many things that you don't know about me. If you did, you wouldn't be saying those things." Erik returned to the shadowy area near the window, where he'd been when she first came into his room.

"Try me. Tell me about it and see if I don't still love and respect you as my husband."

"No. There are some things that aren't meant to be spoken of. A man has to keep some secrets for his own sake. Don't take it upon yourself to disturb that which should remain buried in the past. There is nothing to be gained by it." Erik spoke with his back to her.

"I disagree. When some things are buried alive, they never die. They just haunt us til we are dead."

"Such profound wisdom in one so young. Where did that come from?"

"I don't know. I'm sure I heard it somewhere and it just made sense." Meg replied with a shrug.

"Perhaps it is true. But it is my burden. I will deal with it in time." Erik dismissed the subject. Meg wasn't so easily dissuaded.

"Please, talk to me. I will just listen and not judge. The sooner we can put some of these things behind us, the better our future will be." Meg declared stubbornly.

"You try my patience," Erik scolded. "I don't have to explain myself to you. You have spoiled the evening. Go to bed!" He strode past her quickly and opened the door, inviting her to leave against her will.

"No! I will not be spoken to as such. I'm your wife, not a servant or a disobedient child! What happened to you that is so terrible that you can't even speak of it?" Meg knew she was treading on dangerous ground, but she was tired of not knowing what haunted him. He was so easily pushed to the limits of his tolerance with so many things including her. She couldn't live the rest of her life wondering what it was that caused such quick temper and distrust in her husband. "I want to understand you, Erik, for both our sakes." Erik closed the door.

"How can you understand what it is like to live as a scourge upon the earth? What do you know about being marked so hideously that children and adults turn away in horror and pity!" Erik's voice rose in anger and passion. "Have you ever been locked in a cage and put on display for the world to see and mock! Can you even imagine it?" Meg recoiled in spite of herself. "I see not!" Erik faced her and drew closer as he spoke. "I killed a man when I was fifteen! He would have forced me into accommodating his perverse nature if I had not! Is this what you wanted to hear, Meg? Can you bear the sight of me now!" Erik shouted at her, but Meg forced herself to not turn away from him. She faced him without flinching. She would not show weakness, not now.

"Who was he?"

"My master. I called him master. The gypsies had another name for him. I do not remember what it was. But I didn't stop there. I executed political prisoners in Persia for the shah and his mother. I was their weapon of choice. I let them use me to intimidate those who opposed them."

"Were they innocent?" Meg couldn't help asking.

"No!" Erik shouted his response involuntarily. "They were power hungry bastards that didn't hesitate to take life anywhere it suited them. They deserved to die!" Meg resisted the impulse to argue with him. She'd told him she wouldn't judge.

"Did the shah mistreat you?" Meg wasn't sure why she asked that, but she'd heard stories about the corrupt nature of Persian political leadership and the brutal treatment of their enemies.

"No." Erik admitted. "It was his mother that would have destroyed me if she could. She saw me as a curiosity and a source of amusement. She took pleasure in the pain of others. As amusement for her and humiliation for me, she ordered a slave girl to become my consort with death as the penalty for disobeying. The girl chose death. It was never my idea. She was so young and beautiful. Her life was over because of the khanum enjoyed such power over the people in that country."

"Did you execute her?" Again, Meg had to ask the question. It was now or never, because once it was out in the open, Meg never wanted to speak of it again. It was better that she satisfied her curiosity now.

"I refused, as a matter of fact." Erik said watching her closely. "It was one of the things that made the khanum realize that she couldn't control me completely. It didn't settle well with her and it was shortly afterward that she plotted against me."

"What did you do?" Meg wanted him to keep talking, get it out, and put it behind him as quickly as possible.

"I escaped, traveled a bit to Russia, India and most of Europe. Eventually, I came home or at least home to France. I found the cellars of the Opera Populaire to be quite comfortable and private. You know the rest. I was a ghost, not a man...not human at all." He added wryly.

"I should have never said that." Meg said softly.

"Why? You spoke from the heart."

"I didn't mean it as such." Meg defended.

"I know you didn't, but it hit its mark, nevertheless."

"Don't make me an offender for a word, Erik. I have no doubts about your humanity. I couldn't love you as I do, otherwise." Meg said, closing the distance between them. Tentatively, she put her hand on his chest. His heart beat steadily beneath her palm, quickening suddenly as he reached for her, pulling her close and burying his face in her neck and shoulder. Meg caught the look on his face just before he did so. He almost frightened her with the intensity of the look, fiercely possessive and passionate. His hands caressed her through her thin nightgown, savoring the feel of her softness, claiming her as his own. Meg cried out softly from the pleasure of it. Erik pulled away and stepped back, searching her face for an explanation.

"Did I hurt you?" He asked, puzzled.

"No." Meg said, and smiled, blushing as she peeked at him from lowered lashes. He stared at her, unconvinced. Meg began to remove her nightgown. Erik watched, incredulous, but needed no other encouragement. Her gown lay in a satin pool about her feet. Meg may have imagined it, but she thought she saw gratitude in his gaze. For what, she was unsure, but it didn't matter. She saw, also, acceptance and love.

He kissed her, then gently lifted her and carried her to his bed.

YYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY

The air was cool and crisp, typical of early November. The snow had not yet fallen in the valley, but the peaks of the Midi-Pyrenees Mountains were white. Erik was in Paris attending to his duties as the Marquis de Leon. Meg coddled Bethaleigh who was cutting another tooth and announced her displeasure over the situation often. Michelle was weary of Bethaleigh's cries and grateful to Meg for tending her. The two women were having tea in the small parlor, when the sound of a carriage and horses alerted them to someone's arrival. Meg and Michelle looked at one another questioningly. Erik wasn't expected to return from Paris for several days yet. Who could it be?

Meg rose and went to the window. She watched as Lily emerged from the carriage followed by Darcy, Wendy and another woman Meg did not recognize. She was instantly thrilled and curious. Why had Darcy and Wendy accompanied Lily? Meg rushed out to greet her friend, carrying Bethaleigh with her. Michelle followed.

"Lily!" Meg exclaimed and hugged the young woman with one arm, while balancing the baby on her hip with the other one. "What a pleasant surprise. I'm so glad to see you."

"Oh, me too, Meg. I have been so curious about the Chateau de Bagen and your letters have just not been enough to quench my curiosity. I had to see you for myself."

"But, Darcy and Wendy, too? How did this happen?" Meg greeted the girls and the other woman with a welcoming smile. Lily hugged Michelle, who seemed unusually flustered.

"And who is this?" Lily smiled at Bethaleigh, who buried her face in Meg neck and observed the newcomer with somber eyes. "What a beautiful child," Lily directed her comment to Michelle, who looked at Meg with guarded suspicion.

"Her name is Bethaleigh." Michelle said.

"Such a lovely name. It is so good to see you again, Michelle. It will be such fun to talk about old times." Lily said warmly.

"Oh, this is Gemma." Lily introduced the woman, who looked to be in her forties. "She is your new housekeeper. I believe, she is Milton's sister and has been employed by Eustacia in the past. Her husband recently passed away and she came looking for employment. Eustacia sent her with me."

"Eustacia?" Meg gasped in surprise. "Erik.–."

"Erik already knows. He sent Darcy and Wendy, too. Darcy will be returning with me. Erik was insistent that I not return alone. Wendy will remain with you." Lily explained, seeming rather pleased with herself.

"I don't understand, but come in and warm yourselves." Meg said.

"I have been visiting Eustacia regularly, you see. I thought is would be a kind thing to do since you and Erik were here and the poor dear would be lonely for young company. I was right too, but things are better, now. Madame Giry has moved in to that grand old house to live with her. I think they are getting along splendidly." Lily spoke as she followed Meg into the house. Meg could hardly believe her ears.

"Mother is living in the house with Eustacia?" Meg asked in bewilderment.

"Oh, yes. She moved in a week ago. It was Eustacia's idea." Lily supplied.

"Oh dear, Erik went to Paris...I don't think he had any idea Mother would be there at the house." Meg sighed.

"I would have given my right eye to be there when Erik faced you mother, but alas, I missed it. I heard from Eustacia that it was a rather strained confrontation. I met Erik again and it was he, who suggested that I pay a visit before the snows come, and it becomes too unpleasant to travel. I can't remain more than a few weeks. Stuart will be returning from Cambodia, soon. Reggie too. I thought we could enjoy ourselves while our husbands are elsewhere. Women need other women in their lives. We just don't fare well without feminine company." Lily said conversationally.

Meg had the driver of the carriage carry Lily's luggage to her room. She hadn't been using it lately, certainly not in Erik's absence. She slept in his room each night, finding comfort in the familiar surroundings. The room was definitely masculine and elegant, so much like the man who furnished it.

Once everyone was settled in their prospective rooms, Francois announced dinner. He'd out done himself on behalf of the weary travelers. The roast lamb with vegetables and herbs was extraordinary.

After dinner, Meg and Lily sat before a warm fire and talked, sharing the events that had transpired since they last spoke. They laughed about Meg's sudden abduction, her spur of the moment wedding and the media gossip that followed.

"Where is Michelle?" Lily asked, suddenly.

"I don't know. I suppose she is taking care of the baby." Meg replied.

"She seems a little nervous and odd. Is she alright?"

"I suppose she has reason to be. Garrick evidently brought her here to be the housekeeper. It has been a hardship for her to try and do very much because Bethaleigh is so demanding. I have been doing much of the routine cleaning and laundry myself. I think Erik wanted someone else to do it now that...now that I'm with child." Meg finished.

"Oh, Meg! Such wonderful news. Is Erik as thrilled as I know you must be?" Lily inquired excitedly.

"He's nervous and very protective. He wouldn't let me travel with him to Paris, believing that it might harm the baby." Meg admitted.

"I think it is just adorable of him to be so concerned." Lily said, her eyes sparkling.

"Yes, but also annoying at times. He acts like I might break or something." Meg confided. "But about Michelle, it may have hurt her feelings when you said Gemma was our new housekeeper. It came as a surprise for both of us."

"I think I shall invite her in to chat with us. We must put her mind at ease. It would be terrible to feel replaced." Lily didn't wait for Meg's permission, but went immediately in search of the young woman. Meg was happy to have Lily visiting. She brought such charm and vitality to the chateau, Meg would be sorry when she left. There seemed a clear purpose in her actions to seek Michelle out. Meg hoped so. Michelle would do well to have an ally in Lily.

Lily returned shortly with Michelle, who appeared uncomfortable. Lily seemed to know just what to say to put the girl at ease.

"Bethaleigh is such a sweet baby, Michelle. I will try not to be jealous. You are a good mother to her. I will have to come to you for advice, when I have my own children. I haven't the foggiest idea of what to do with a child." Lily said with genuine expression. Michelle seemed to relax and smiled.

"I think being a mother is something that comes from instinct. I don't think there's a single book written on how to be a good mother, but most of us figure it out somehow." Michelle said, modestly, but Meg could tell that she was pleased with Lily's words of praise.

Erik returned with Garrick three days later as expected. The house was lively and Meg was pleased to have so many in her home. Graciously, she acted the hostess, although Erik was more often in the basement working or in his room. Meg was pleased to see that Lily's presence didn't bother him. She had wondered about it. But, she decided that Erik rather liked Lily. It would have been hard not to. She was thoughtful, warm and generous. Neither was she disturbed by the mask.

Time passed quickly for Meg during Lily's visit. Erik seemed pleased that Meg was enjoying herself. She loved him more for his thoughtfulness in inviting Lily to come to the chateau. But, Meg was more than a little surprised when Erik agreed to play the piano-forte for their entertainment one evening. Lily expressed her delight openly and declared Meg to be the luckiest woman she knew.

"How wonderful it must be to have such an exceptional talent in a husband." She said with feigned jealousy. "If Stuart doesn't return soon, I'm going to forget what he looks like."

"When will Stuart be returning?" Meg asked. She wasn't really feeling threatened by Lily but privately she was glad that the other woman was already married to Stuart, who undoubtedly took his marriage vows very serious. Lily was one of those women who would always be the center of attention when she was in the room.

"I'm not sure exactly, but within a few weeks at least. Since I'll be leaving for Paris tomorrow, I expect I shall arrive there before he does." Lily said easily.

The next morning, however, revealed a change of plan. Lily was preparing to leave when two riders were seen approaching the chateau from a distance.

Erik's mood was cautious. He advised Lily to wait to leave until the unexpected visitors were known. He told Garrick to greet them while the others waited inside. Meg knew he was unsettled by the newcomers. He paced like a caged animal in the main parlor, while Lily, Meg and Darcy remained in the small parlor. The visitors were ushered into the reception room and a very surprised Garrick announced the arrival of Stuart Fairmont and Reginald Dublan. It would seem that Lily's husband and brother were quite concerned with her whereabouts and demanded to see her.