Chapter Five

Christine awoke the next morning to find Henri curled up next to her, and Claire still asleep against her chest. She was stuck; unable to move as to not wake her sleeping children. She wondered what Erik and Henri had been up to last night; she hoped her son had not caused Erik too much trouble... She knew he sometimes forgot his manners. She hoped that Henri had not stayed up too late after he had woken; the last thing she remembered was getting Claire to stop crying... She must have nodded off. For the first time since Raoul had been on his deathbed, Christine had gotten a goodnight's sleep, even though it had been interrupted, she had slept very soundly.

Erik awoke, and suddenly remembered that he had an actual reason to get up. He rose from his bed and pulled on shirtsleeves, trousers, a robe, and his mask before exiting the room and walking down to the kitchen, were Chanel was busy preparing the third breakfast.

"Good morning, master," she said with a curtsey. "You are up early."

"Yes, I suppose I am," he replied, taking a seat at the dining table and waiting for the others to wake.

Deciding that neither of her children would be up anytime soon, Christine gently moved from the bed, a pillow on either side of Claire so she wouldn't roll off the bed in sleep, and made sure Henri was covered up before putting her dress from the day before on (not bothering with her corset) and going down to the dining room, eager for breakfast.

Christine entered the room unaccompanied. "Good morning, dear," he said quietly. "Where are the children?"

She took a seat at the table. "Sound asleep." He nodded.

"I suppose you are hungry... From what Henri tells me, you ate nothing the past few days."

She looked down at the table. "Well, food was quite tight..."

"Yes, I see... Well, do not worry about that any longer, at least," he said, as he took up his fork. He felt a bit awkward; as he was more than used to eating alone.

"Did Henri give you much trouble last night?"

"No, he was quite amusing..."

She smiled. "Yes... He can be quite a character."

"Indeed," he said, laughing lightly. "Please, eat," he prompted.

"I just read to him..." he continued. "About the French Revolution... he fell asleep, and I brought him up."

"Thank you," she said, taking a bite of her breakfast.

"No trouble... I suppose you'd want to gather your things from your old home today... And I must go to the market to purchase a crib for Claire."

"It means so much to me... and Henri and Claire... That you're letting us stay here... Really, I don't know what I would have done..."

"It is no hassle..."

She looked over at him, smiling slightly, "I don't think I'll ever be able to thank you enough..."

"No... You will... You already have." She held his gaze for a few moments longer before returning to her food

The connection of their gaze sent odd sensations through him. He hated himself for feeling this way... There were so many reasons why he shouldn't. But, he could not help it. This would not go away, he knew. He knew not what to say to her, but at the moment she didn't seem very sociable.

"What else did you and Henri talk about last night?" she said after a few moments of silence.

"Well... He seems to know some rather... colorful language." She raised her eyebrows.

"Oh?"

"Yes."

"Where did he learn it from?"

"Actually, he overheard you and Meg using it."

"Meg and I?" she furrowed her brow, trying to remember. "Oh yes, when Raoul passed on and those as... the deChagnys said some things to me... I thought he was napping..."

"Yes... he seemed rather proud to overhear."

"Christine..." he said after a pause, his tone serious, "That night when I let you go with the vicomte, I was under the impression that he would... protect you and keep you happy... I am sorry it did not turn out that way..." He dare not view this as a second chance for he and Christine... even if it was, he would not take it... He would be nothing but a replacement.

She smiled sadly. "There are some things that are just out of our control..."

"Yes, indeed there are." Awkwardly, he patted her hand in an attempt to comfort her. Without thinking, she put her hand over his. After his initial surprise had subsided, he met her eyes and gave her a small smile.

If circumstances had been different, he would have kissed her hand softly, then her cheek, and finally, her lips. Or possibly tell her that he loved her. But, given the current circumstances, he had to be content with simply gazing into her eyes and smiling shyly, like a foolish school boy with a crush.

Christine soon heard Claire cry from upstairs, somewhat flustered, she removed her hands from his own, and rose from the table. "Excuse me," she muttered before walking out of the dining room to go check on her children, a blush creeping to her cheeks... It had been just a simple gesture, it wasn't as though it was a big deal, but strangely, Christine felt that it was.

He watched her go, somewhat regretfully, before returning to his breakfast, which consisted of eggs benedict and coffee.

A few minutes later, Henri came toddling into the dining room. "Good morning."

"Good morning, son. Your breakfast is right there," he said, nodding to an empty seat. "How are you?" he asked as the boy climbed into the chair.

"Good," he said, picking up his fork and spearing at the food, "Mama's upstairs."

"Yes I know. What is she doing?" he asked politely.

"Feeding Claire. Claire eats a lot."

"Yes, well, she is only a baby, so she must eat to get bigger," he reasoned, as he finished up his breakfast.

"Sometimes, Mama couldn't give her milk 'cause she didn't get to eat 'cause there wasn't food for her," Henri continued to ramble cheerfully, taking big bights of his breakfast.

"Oh... That's too bad," he said, cloaking his concern.

"And sometimes, Mama had to stay up all night with Claire 'cause she wouldn't sleep," he paused for a moment to take a drink of his milk, "Are you and my mama friends?"

"I suppose so."

"Did you know my papa? I miss him... He got real sick before Claire was born."

"Yes, I knew him. I am sorry that you miss him so." Henri nodded solemnly, dragging his food around his plate, "How long are we staying here? Forever?"

"I've no idea... Ask your mother."

"I like it here."

"I am glad," Erik replied, smiling.

"Will you be my friend?"

"Certainly. I think I already am. You are my friend," he said, his smile growing.

Henri smiled at him, "You're a good friend, Erik."

"Thank you, son. Please don't neglect your breakfast."

"Mama cuts up my food for me."

"Indeed?" He nodded.

"Can you, please?" Erik sat idle a moment, thinking this over, before leaning over and cutting the ham into manageable portions for him.

"Thank you," Henri said, taking a bite of his ham.

"You are welcome."

"How do you know my mama?" He asked after taking a few more bite of his breakfast.

"I used to teach her music," he said cautiously.

"Really? You know about music?"

"Yes, very much so."

"How long have you known her?"

"Since she was about eight years old."

"That's a long time."

"Yes, I suppose it is."

"Did you teach her about singing?"

"Yes, I did."

"Do you know why she doesn't sing anymore, then?"

"No, I don't. Perhaps I shall ask her."

"Okay," Henri said, and began eating his breakfast again.

Soon, Christine entered the dining room once more, Claire cradled in her arms; she sat down at the table beside Henri. "Are you enjoying your breakfast, love?" she asked, smoothing his brown, curly hair, much like her own, which was messed from sleep.

"Yes, Mama," he answered, smiling at her, then waving at Claire.

Christine smiled at this, then looked over at Erik, "Was he causing too much trouble?"

"No... He speaks of everything and nothing," he said, smiling knowingly to himself.

She smiled at him, then leaned over and kissed her son's head softly.

"Erik is my friend," Henri said proudly.

Christine laughed, "Oh?"

"Yes. We are good friends. Right, Erik?"

"That's right, my boy," he said; he couldn't help but smile. "He's full of questions, as well," he added to Christine.

"He is. What did you two talk about?"

"I was telling him about Claire and we talked about you," Henri said, with his usual cheery tone.

She raised her eyebrows. "Oh?" Henri nodded, returning to his ham and toast.

"Yes," muttered Erik, slightly embarrassed.

"What about me? Only good things, I hope," she said to Henri, smirking slightly.

"Oh yes, Erik was telling me that he used to give you music lessons. He cut my ham."

"Well that was nice of him... Did you say thank you?"

"Yes, Mama," Henri replied, smiling at her then at Erik.

He returned the smile, and said, "I suppose I'd best dress... We have a rather busy day ahead of us... We must go to the market, visit some shops, and make a stop by your old home... I shall be down in a moment." He rose from the table.