Thank you to all my friends out there in review land…you are making my little heart happy.
I would like to dedicate this chapter to
Corrinne Timberlake.
You were like a mother to me…
It hurts to know
that I will not see you again
this side of heaven;
but your generosity and love
will live on in my heart.
You were the epitome of a southern lady.
May your heavenly home
Be as open and inviting
As your earthly home was.
Born: Sunday, October 5, 1924
Homebound: Monday, November 21, 2005
YOU ARE LOVED.
Enjoy
We buy trouble when we let greed control us. Money should be our servant, not our master.
God's Best for Your Success
I Surrender All
CHAPTER 9
One month later, New Orleans, Louisiana – July, 1872
The trip to America had been uneventful, but enjoyable. Erik and Roland discussed plans for the opera house and Erik presented him with ideas on how to improve acoustics and accessibility. Overall, they achieved a great deal and Erik began to feel as though he had finally gained a friend.
Arriving in New Orleans proved to be an exciting event, the city was alive with bustling people and merchants on every corner. Erik had never seen anything like it. The uncomfortable feeling of being in close contact with people was overwhelming to Erik and he wanted nothing more than to escape.
He had stayed to himself on the boat; seldom leaving the confines of his room. He ordered his meals delivered to him and, despite Roland's efforts, avoided contact with others.
Erik had promised himself that he would try to become a living, constructive member of the human race; but the effort was proving difficult. His instincts told him not to trust anyone…and his instincts had never failed him.
The first order of business was to procure a banker and an accountant. Erik needed to secure his funds and obtain living quarters as soon as possible. He had not carried very much with him, choosing to travel light and buy whatever he needed when he arrived.
The Merchants Bank of New Orleans had the finest reputation in all of Louisiana, and Erik stepped out of there with a great feeling. He had been impressed with the professionalism and business etiquette of the owner, and after two hours of deliberations, they had his business.
Roland took him to the home of Bradley Chandler, the accountant he had heard so much about. The house was adequate and ornate, a design that Erik could appreciate. The door was answered by a tall, robust, blond with lively brown eyes. She smiled a very businesslike smile and invited them in.
"We are looking for Mr. Bradley Chandler, I have heard a great deal about his reputation as an accountant." Roland stated, "My business partner is need of the services of a personal accountant."
Erik nodded at the young woman and she smiled at him, it wasn't a flirtatious smile, just a friendly one. She did not seem especially curious about him or his mask, and Erik wasn't sure if this made him thankful or cautious.
"Bradley Chandler is a pseudonym for Dominique Chandler. She is the actual accountant…but few people want a woman as their accountant." The young woman said, pointedly.
Erik's voice resounded, deep and smooth, "I don't care if she is a woman or not, I only care that she is an excellent business person." Erik stated stoically, "She, however, may not wish to deal with me…most women find me repulsive."
The woman looked surprised at his statement, but her tone was controlled and even, "I find that hard to believe, Mr…" she had turned and was walking into the house.
Erik realized that he had not introduced himself, "I am Erik Clairvaux…I just moved here from Paris." He bowed low and just as he did, she whirled around and her skirt swept across his face, removing the mask and knocking it several feet away from him. Erik was in a panic. His hand immediately dropped its contents and went to cover his face.
The woman was immediately surprised at the quick, but graceful movements that Erik used to cover himself. She moved forward and pried his hand from his face, examining it as if she were a doctor. Her eyes held no malice and she smiled understandingly into his face.
Erik was holding his temper in check, knowing that it would not be a good thing to fly into a rage with this woman. He needed to find an accountant and she was the one who could help do that. He calmed his racing heart and allowed her to remove his hand from his horrid face.
"Well, Mr. Clairvaux, I find that hard to believe, but then…I am not like most women." The woman said, without grimacing away from him in any way.
Erik had forgotten what it was she was commenting on as the woman led them to a friendly looking room and the servant bought tea. He retrieved his mask and followed in stunned silence.
"I am Dominique Chandler…what may I help you with?" The woman stated, matter-of-factly.
Although he was intrigued by her obvious intelligence, Erik's senses were on alert. His mask coming off had disturbed his already sensitive nerves and he felt exposed.
He put his reserves aside and determinedly retrieved the papers that contained his vast holdings and the extent of his fortune. Ms. Chandler sat perusing the papers and every now and then would let out a, "hummmm", when she came upon an interesting figure.
"It would seem, Mr. Clairvaux, that you are a very wealthy man. My salary is not cheap, but I am certain that you can afford it, should you choose to employ me." Ms. Chandler stated with a smile and a wink.
Erik agreed to pay her five hundred dollars a month plus any expenses she may incur. He left her with a list of his expenses and promised to keep her updated on any changes. He scheduled Tuesday afternoons as a time to meet and discuss any transactions for the week and any anticipated changes.
"Will you be seeking a place of residence, Mr. Clairvaux?" Dominique asked.
"Not at the present time, I will be residing in the opera house until such a time that I grow weary of the activities." was the straightforward answer.
The bid her good night and headed back to the opera house. They dropped Roland off at his house and the carriage carried Erik back to the opera house. Erik found himself exhausted and was pleased to have been offered the opportunity to live in the opera house, at least for a little while.
He entered the first room he came upon and was surprised by the size. It was the size of a small apartment in Paris. The air smelled fresh and clean, a vast improvement over many of the rooms at the Populaire, they tended to smell musty.
After bathing, Erik decided to go to bed; he had decided to forego putting any belongings up until tomorrow. He made his way to the bed, which was a bit rumpled, and pulled down the covers, a heavenly scent made its way to his nose; vanilla and magnolia, that is what it smelled like; the sheets were saturated in this wonderful scent. Erik sank down into the sheets and was immediately asleep.
OOOOOOOOOOOOO
Karlie Lorraine Bordeaux was returning from her job of washing, scrubbing and cleaning clothes and houses. She worked with a different family every night of the week, making sure that the children were kept clean and shiny, the meals were cooked, and the house was in order. Karlie loved the children…they were the only reason she kept going.
Karlie refused to stay under the same roof as any of the families. The husbands all had wandering eyes and even more wandering hands. She resided in the opera house and traveled to the areas she needed to be to do her work.
She had had enough of groping handed men and crude remarks; she was a performer in the opera house as well as being the dance instructor and choreographer. Were there any men out there who did not take liberties unless invited? She did not think so…all the good ones were taken, and those that weren't, weren't interested in women.
She wanted a family, just like any other woman her age...but she was not willing to settle for just some Joe Schmoe from down the street who would cheat on her and drink himself into a stupor every night.
Karlie was contemplating the attributes of her prince charming as she entered her room and crawled into bed without removing her clothes or turning up the light. She was totally exhausted.
OOOOOOOOOOO
Erik could not quite put his finger on what was wrong. He did not sleep good most of the time anyway, but he had been in a deep sleep a few minutes ago but was jolted out of it by something.
He shifted to turn over and felt a long, sinewy arm wrapped around his waist and a very feminine frame pressed against his back. With a panicked breath and prowess that would make a lion jealous, he leapt from the bed and stood beside it, breathing heavily.
Karlie bolted upright at the sudden movement next to her and was terrified by the deep, menacingly beautiful voice that seemed to emanate from the darkness, "Mademoiselle, do you make it a habit of crawling into bed with strangers?"
"Who are you, you beast; and what are you doing in my bed?" Karlie demanded, pulling the sheets up to cover herself, forgetting that she was fully clothed.
The voice seethed in reply, "Beast indeed…and you have disturbed my slumber. I have been resting in this bed since five minutes to nine, and believe me; you were not in it when I lay down." The voice dripped with sarcasm. "I believe I would have remembered soliciting the services of such a fetching woman to share my bed."
Karlie was angry more than scared. How dare he presume that she is a common street whore that followed his abhorrent figure into this opera house and lay with him! The beast has some nerve…some men think they are God's gift to women!
Why was he making no move to have his way with her? Karlie could only see the outline of his shadow in the dimly lit room, but he looked massive and she doubted she could fight him off if he chose to take her. That thought caused her to tremble, slightly.
He began moving about in the darkness as if he could see quite well. He was picking up his items from around the room and putting them into something…she could not tell what.
She observed him in the shadows as he slipped to the back of the room, his strides were graceful and elegant, like a dancers and there was an air of sadness to his movements. He carried himself like a man who was acquainted with pain and sorrow, and she found herself wondering why.
"You will have to seek coins for your pockets elsewhere tonight, I am not inclined to partake of your services…not now...not ever." Erik was becoming more and more agitated as the moments passed, he should have been able to sense her in the room. Something should have alerted him to the fact that she was there.
Karlie was seething. Now he insults her by indicating she was not good enough for him! If she were who he thinks she is, he would never have her in his bed! Ever! Who did he think he was?
"If I were of the profession you seem to think I am, you would never be good enough to grace my bed, you monster." Karlie's voice was confident, sure and drilling.
Her words stung him deeply…even in the darkness she could see him for what he was. He approached the door while whispering, thinking she would not hear him, "I've never been good enough for any woman's love, let alone her bed." His voice picked up volume as he headed out the door, "Please forget about this and try to forgive me." And the door shut behind him.
Who was he? He had appeared to be so cocky and arrogant when first discovered, but as the moments went by, he became more wounded. She could see the droop of his shoulders grow more pronounced as she spoke to him. She had called him a beast and a monster; but all men were beasts…weren't they?
He had insulted her…she had insulted him. Then why did it seem that her insults shot straight to his core and changed him from a cornered lion to a caged bird? Looking back on it, he was not out of line to assume she was a prostitute; they did solicit themselves in the oddest ways.
His final few words pierced her heart, making her wonder why he would say them. Although, it did appear that he was saying them for his own benefit and not hers. Why would he think he was not good enough for anyone's love? Then, he begged for the incident to be forgotten and her to grant him forgiveness! What an odd man.
She could still feel the power the man seemed to possess, lingering in the room. He had seemed a paradox to her. His strength and agility were evident in every move he made, but he seemed to hold his pain securely within every fiber of his being. Why would he have so much pain?
Karlie knew she was overanalyzing the situation, something she tended to do all the time. The man had invaded her space, not vice-versa. She shouldn't give him another thought…he was probably a homeless vagabond who found an open door and decided to find a warm place to sleep. She hoped he found one.
She lay back down on the bed and rolled over onto the side of the bed where the man had been laying. She noticed how wonderful he had smelled; fresh soap and an enticing blend of musk, spices, and leather…a very clean and fresh vagabond…very odd man.
OOOOOOOOOOOO
Erik was frustrated. The woman had not screamed and ranted at his intrusion, nor had she run for the police. She had merely berated him for being there, by verbally warring with him. He had felt the fear in the air, of course she had feared him…they all did.
He had not seen any of her features in the darkness, but he knew that she was very feminine, with curves that molded to his frame quite nicely. He had never felt a woman next to him before and he found that his body was on fire with the knowledge of her long, lithe limbs being next to him in an intimate setting like the bed.
He had not meant to insinuate that she was a prostitute, it just seemed like the natural thing to do…but she had easily seen what he was. She made it a point of making sure he knew she knew what he was. Funny, but after all these years and all the abuse, physical and verbal; you would think he would be used to it…but it still hurt.
His wayward thoughts and treasonous body sickened him. He must be perverted to go from obsessively loving Christine to practically raping an unknown woman simply because she felt wonderful wrapped around this body.
He located another room, just down the hall from her room and turned up the light. He thoroughly scanned the room for any other occupants. Finding none, he crawled into bed, immediately noting that it did not smell like vanilla and magnolia; he found that he wished it did. He slept fitfully until the sounds of daylight awakened him.
To Be Continued…