A Place in This World
CHAPTER 17
"What name did you just say?"Alastair could have sworn that he heard his sons name coming from Christine. Christine could not even bring herself to say it again; she was so lost in the realization of who Erik was. There was so much to read on her face, the horror of what he had endured and the joy of knowing that he now had a family. Words did not come.
With pride in his voice, Alastair introduced his absent son to them, "He was born Lord Erik Bryant Lauchlan, Earl of Berwithshire. Either by my choice, or by my death, he will be the Fourth Duke of Berwithshire. He was lost to me for a time…I pray that now, he has returned to me."
Alastair watched the faces of those in front of him. He knew in his heart that the "Erik", whose name Christine had cried out, was his son. Margarite's surprised but lilting voice asked the only thing she could think of to say, "What led you here, to my humble home, your grace?" Margarite could not believe the events that were unfolding before her eyes. "How did you find me?" She was honored to have him here. To have been a part of this incredible story gave her life more purpose than she had ever thought possible.
Alastair told of a conversation that one of his household staff had overheard in a tavern in Glasgow. "A man was searching for the identity of a dear friend of his. This friend wore a mask on the right side of his face to hide a deformity. His friend also wore a ring with a crest on it; he hoped someone would recognize it...well, someone did."
Margarite recognized the ring that Alastair was holding up for her to see, it looked to be the same ring that Erik wore; a ring that he said he had always had. He never could remember where he had gotten it; just that he had always had it. She knew now that it had been given to him as a small child; a keepsake representing his family name and heritage. He had kept it in his inside pocket, never allowing it to be found. In time, his childhood memories of his family had faded, but he knew that the ring was important to him. After his rescue from the Gypsy's, he began wearing it; if only to cling to some semblance of a past. The only time it left his hand was when he wore gloves. He had apparently parted with it long enough to have Michél use it to gain information.
"When my employee came and relayed to me what he had heard, I knew that I must seek this man out. I had one of my less than scrupulous 'friends' follow this man and try to find out where he was from. I learned that he was from Paris and his name was Michél Pinchót. Many of the 'locals' that he spoke to were really contacts placed by my people to gain much needed information. In almost every instance, the one name he mentioned over and above all others was yours, Margarite. I came to Paris with your name on my tongue. The first person I asked knew exactly who you were and where you lived. So here I am."Alastair unnervingly stared at Margarite; she felt the weight of his years of searching bearing down on her. Alastair was through beating around the bush, he pinned his eyes on Christine, demanding her response, "The Erik you speak of…I believe he is my son. Where can I find him?"
Margarite wasted no time, "I can take you to him. He just left here not three hours ago. He is staying at the Hotel Reginé, room 305. He spoke of plans to leave tomorrow headed for London to speak with our magistrate's cousin at Scotland Yard. He was searching for his past. I suppose that will not be needed now if he is, indeed, your son." Margarite smiled, taking ten years from her face. She and Christine rose to put a shawl over their shoulders as Raoul grabbed his hat and cloak. Raoul headed out the door to obtain transportation for the evening.
Alastair was experiencing a wealth of emotions right now. He was nervous, excited, anxious, curious, scared, happy…all at the same time! He was actually going to fulfill a promise made to himself and Brianna 29 years ago. He had promised he would bring Erik home. Today he would take the first step in doing just that.
Margarite took the length of the carriage ride to compare the features of the man sitting across from her to Erik. She saw the same arrogant hold to the shoulders; the same love of solitude and books; the same wonderful mouth, chin and deep-set eyes. The most demanding similarity was the strength of character and will; neither man would back down if cornered, they would fight to the death, especially for something they believed in or someone they loved. You could sense the fortitude that this man could possess if put in the right situation, it was the same feeling she felt in Erik's presence. Margarite smiled, knowing that Erik was everything she had prayed he would be…and more.
The tragic story of his abduction had torn her apart. Imagining Erik being tortured was almost more than she could grasp. The times he had opened up to her and actually spoke of the cruelty of the Gypsies; she became physically sick. She had been unfortunate enough to see first hand the way they had treated him; she did not really care to relive it. She now realized that he had endured even worse torture at the hand of a man who sought revenge on his father.
Margarite tangibly shivered as she pictured the morbid scene in her mind. He had always suffered horrible nightmares with fragmented pieces of memory; but he could never quite put the pieces together; his mind had closed these memories off, protecting him from losing his mind. His nightmares were the only thing that had the power to frighten him. She prayed that he would never remember the agony of those months so long ago.
The carriage ride past by so quickly that Alastair could have sworn they had only been riding for a few minutes, when in fact it had been about twenty. His mind was racing; how was he going to act when he saw Erik for the first time in almost 30 years? As a father, the only thing he wanted to do was take him in his arms and hold him forever; shielding him from any further pain. But to Erik, Alastair was a stranger and he would most likely not allow that kind of affection between them, at least not at first. (I don't care if he is almost 34 years old, he is still my little boy, perfect in every way; I intend to make him realize that.)
Margarite had taken a few minutes of the ride to explain to Alastair about Erik's colorful past. Erik stretched the borders of decency in many areas of his life. His compositions were sexually charged and full of passion as well as pain. The costumes he designed for his players were tastefully risqué; and the "Red Death" outfit that he designed for himself the night of the Masquerade party – oh my, every woman in the room was ready to let him have his way with them; Margarite could not remember him looking more devilishly handsome than he did that night. (You could not even see the beauty of his face; that is how intoxicating he was.)
She briefly clued him in on Erik's double identity as the Phantom and Opera Ghost. She detailed how he had very low self-esteem, especially about his face; and because of this, he wore a white mask to cover the right side. He thought himself a hideous monster that was beyond the love of any human, especially women.
She told him of Erik's sexual innocence and the obsession he had for Christine"He had never even been kissed until the night that Christine betrayed him…she kissed him to free Raoul…not knowing that Erik would never have hurt him." Alastair dwelt on this fact for a moment; his son was an innocent when it came to women! (Good Lord…the wolves are going to eat him alive! He won't even see them coming!) Alastair had to keep himself from laughing out loud, he knew what Erik had in store for him upon his return to Scotland; this would be a very rousing situation. (And this Christine…what should I think about her?)
Margarite did not miss the swell of animosity that glowed in Alastair's eyes when he looked at Christine. To prevent his opinion of her growing worse, Margarite explained about Erik's role in deceiving Christine and the fear he had invoked in her and everyone else.
Alastair took up for his son, "He felt it necessary I'm sure, to protect himself from the evils of mankind. Fear is a very powerful ally when control or protection is your goal. His manipulation of the situations assured him control, when he let his control slip…that is when he got hurt."
She told how, upon finding that Erik was not a murderer or rapist, Christine had admitted her deep love for Erik. She also let Alastair know that Christine and Raoul were betrothed as children and Christine would never go against her father's wishes, even if he had been dead for ten years.
Alastair softened his opinion of Christine, but it would take some time for him to forgive her for the way she had hurt Erik, even if she claimed to love him. Alastair knew that plenty of other women wanted a chance to grace his arm and bed; (they will show him how attractive he is. I know that he is beautiful, he looks like his mother. No mask or destruction done on the right side of his face can take away his beauty.) In time, he would forget about his love for Ms. Daae.
Margarite reflected on all the facts she now had. It seemed that the Gypsy woman that had been responsible for Erik in the camp was wicked and evil to him, drilling into him pitiful, self-loathing feelings. Margarite knew now that the woman Erik thought of as his mother was not his mother at all; but a wicked, vengeful creature instructed to make him into the moneymaking attraction they wanted him to be. - She had done her job well.
Alastair could not believe the tale of deception and pain that Margarite wove for him. Erik had been though far more that Alastair ever knew. The road to recovery for his son was going to be a long one. With the love of his family around him and the support of an entire country that awaited the return of the long lost Berwithshire heir, Alastair was certain Erik would become the man he was born to be.
As for the lack of physical love; Alastair knew of many suitable women who were waiting with baited breath to get a chance to court the handsome Earl of Berwithshire. They already knew about his deformity because Alastair displayed the picture that MacNera had drawn detailing Erik's face; he displayed it everywhere so that the whole country would be used to his face before he came home. He had done this for years. The picture also served to remind the people what tortures his son had survived.
The carriage came to halt in front of the hotel. Alastair stood on the sidewalk staring at the structure that housed his son. He led the way into the reception area and up to the concierge. He double-checked the room number that Margarite had given him, gave the man a large tip and headed for the stairs.
Margarite stopped him by clearing her throat, "Are you sure that you want us present when you do this? We can wait down here."
Alastair shook his head, "No, I want all of you there. He has known you for years and the others have been intricate parts of his recent years. He will be more comfortable with each of you there."
He turned back around and headed up the stairs. His stomach was in knots and his throat was dry, but he could not remember having so much hope for the future.
Chapter 18 preview – Erik learns the truth