Hello everyone, again :)
XoAnGeL-Of ThE-NiGhToX ,Thank you! I'm really glad to know you like my story. You'll get the answer to your questions in the next few chapters don't worry, lol
darklady5289 ,This fic IS E/C. You'll just have to be patient. As I said before, I won't make things easy for both of them ;)
Pertie I really appreciate your opinion. At least I know you'll be looking for my updates, that's good
Now..enjoy chapters 26-27
Lovephantom83
The passage was barely lighted. Of course it did not resembled the magnificent corridor she was taken through that night they had finally faced each other. It had been such a weird yet beautiful experience, that she had nearly believed that she had been daydreaming all the time and that her rich imagination had finally deceived her. With him, everything was different, magical. What now looked like a dark desolate place without charm or mystery that night seemed to burst with light and music coming from elaborate candelabras. His hand holding hers, his caressing voice…
And there she was, in the middle of that nowhere, waiting for something… to see him, perhaps? But that sounded totally unreal right then. A sorrowful expression clouded her eyes and she was about to turn her back when she saw him. Good Lord, there he was, in the middle of that poorly-lit corridor, his gaze as grave as the one he wore in that horrible dream of hers. However his eyes did not lack the intensity nor the emptiness, as in her nightmare. The poor lightning outlined his profile, which looked even more enigmatic and beautiful at the same time. She must have been dreaming, for that fantasy could be nothing but a dream. Having him so near her could only be an illusion made up by her own subconscious.
Whether she was dreaming or not, she could not repress the open smile that graced her lips.
'Erik, angel…'.
She saw him smile slightly and motion to her to close the distance between them. Christine obeyed without second thoughts. She had been mourning to see him again for a long time, there had been so many things she had wanted to tell him, to explain to him…
Her steps felt feather-like to her as she came nearer. Anticipation was written clearly on her face. She just wished to hug him, to beg him to save her from that madness that sought to claim her eventually, to tell him that she loved him…
She was nearer with every step forward…
She seemed to be at hand's reach of him…
A pane of glass! There was a thin layer of crystal between them. All of a sudden she felt locked in her side of the pane. He was so near! He saw him making his advance to where she was and leaning a hand on his side of the crystal, as a sad expression crossed his visible features.
'Christine…'.
His voice sounded so near and far at the same time. She started hitting the crystal with her bare hands, tried to cry out his name in anguish…
But she was dumb, she could not speak. Everything transformed into flames of fire that threatened to consume her, both of them, alive. Her breathing was failing her, she needed to come out, she wanted to scream for she knew she would never know what had become of him!
'Christine!'.
Eyes opened wide as she awoke. Her pulse was quick and matching pearls of sweat rolled down her brow. The first sight she encountered was Édmond's worried face.
'Are you okay? Forgive my intrusion but, begging your pardon', he sat down beside her. 'You've got me really worried about your health…and you did not look like you were enjoying a peaceful dreamless sleep'.
She closed her eyes, still shivering. 'Worry not, Édmond, I'm…fine. That was only a bad dream. How long have I been asleep?'.
'It's well into the evening…'.
She nodded, looking away from his inquisitive stare. She hated that she looked so frail in front of a person she was not even sure of who he was. She would have burst into tears but instead of that, her eyes turned to his. If she didn't ask him now, she would probably never have another chance to discover the truth…
'Who are you really, Édmond?'.
He had mastered a confused look in a matter of seconds. He thought he knew what she was referring to so openly.
'What do you mean? I'm afraid I don't understand…', he smiled gently as he put a curl which was rebelliously swaying over her brow behind her ear.
'No, please…I'm only asking you for a direct, honest reply. I hope I'm not being indiscreet but', she paused to think of the best way to put her thoughts into words. 'I was wandering if you had any relation to my late husband's family. I can't help seeing so many features and traits of them in you', she stopped again, gathering the courage to reveal her greatest secret. 'They're the De Chagnys'.
He laughed. 'Dear, if you are telling me that because of the private mail you've found on my working desk lately…the answer is affirmative only in part. I'm related to the De Chagnys just on your…late husband's father side. But it doesn't go any further than a distant kinship. We keep in touch with each other through mail from time to time, that's all'
She smiled, more convinced. 'I understand…I apologize for my terrible behaviour earlier. I'm very sorry for acting like an ungrateful intruder. This is your home, I…'.
Édmond leant a supportive hand on hers. 'Calm down. This is your home too, remember that you'll live here until times change. And now, get back to sleep. I'll call up a doctor to check on you and I'd wish you would not refuse this time, please'.
She assented and he retired from her room. Even though he sounded sincere, there was still something in his ways that did not make too much sense to her.
Angie was drinking a glass of water before she continued with the last things to do in her daily housework list. She reached for her bag again, focusing her careful and undivided attention on the task at hand. She had enough pain in her soul so far. She did not want to keep up with being hurt again and again.
'Are you leaving again?', Erik had just came through the door, leaving his coat over a chair and still holding the folder with his designs and plans in his hand.
'Yes', she looked at him coolly. 'I've got lots of things to do yet…Excuse me…'.
She did not even give him time to answer. She left, quick and uncommunicative. He watched the door closing and her presence disappearing with incredulity. Now she was trying to avoid him at all costs. She was really hurt. Even if she tried to look for the appropriate words in his mind to express the confusion that had taken over him with that situation, he could not concentrate or find the ideal moment to say them. Massaging the space between his eyebrows in a gesture of exhaustion, he decided that it was best to retire to his desk, as usual.
The loud bang of a door brought her out of her thoughts. She became quite uneasy, well; she had been like that for some time, for they had not received visits for months. They had decided to fall into a silent and safe anonymity until everything calmed down. She knew that her daughter had high aspirations and talent and, of course, she did not want the girl to give up all her dreams and threw away her chances. However, moving was terribly risky at the moment. They had some savings and she had calculated that maybe they'd manage to flee to England or some other peaceful country soon.
She was afraid of opening the door, though she did not know why. Instinct, perhaps… With extreme caution, the woman stood up from her armchair, nervously throwing her long plait over her shoulder. A sigh escaped her mouth while she offered a last insecure glance at the place where the demanding voices came. Then, she opened the door. A couple of middle-age women were watching her assessingly from the threshold of her entrance.
She frowned. 'Did you wish anything, Mesdames?'.
Emma nodded, a smile dancing on her lips. 'We're searching for some…Meg Giry?'.
Madame Giry almost let out a gasp of fright when she listened the name of her only daughter in the mouth of one of those strangers.