Thank you Pertie, for your kind words concerning Corrinne…I appreciate it. I'm also happy to hear that you are enjoying my two female counterparts. You will some answers in this chapter. Let me know what you think.
hunting4max, you make me laugh! Thanks for your review on chapter 9. I wonder which woman you are rooting for to gain our Erik's heart. We will see…read on and some answers will come.
OperaLover, thanks for reading and reviewing. I hope this chapter helps you decide about Dominique and Karlie…let me know!
Mlle.Fox, patience, my friend, patience! Your questions will be easier to answer after you read this chapter. Happy hunting!
Enjoy
Out of struggle comes strength of character.
God's Best for Your Success
I Surrender All
CHAPTER 10
Roland had been loaded down with curious questions since his staff and performers found out he was back in town. They were all inquiring about the new vocal instructor and financier.
When he stepped foot inside the opera house this morning he knew that he would be faced with questions. News traveled fast in the theater circuit and he knew that Erik would be the topic of everyone's conversations.
The minute he swept into the opera house he was bombarded with questions and rumors about the new staff member and what they had heard going around on the docks when the ship had come in.
Is he really French? Just how rich is he? I heard he was as tall as a building. They say he has hair the color of midnight and eyes the color of emeralds; is this true? Someone told me he had the voice of an angel and the face of a demon; how could that be? Roland had a headache from all the questions and he had only been in the building for ten minutes.
He searched the burgeoning crowd for Erik, but could find him nowhere; he had hoped to catch him before he stepped out. He had mentioned needing to buy clothing and some essential items.
Roland finally managed to get them all quieted down and gathered them in the theater for a "company meeting". He did not see very many that were missing.
Roland cleared his throat and spoke demandingly, "I see that everyone got my memo, I was hoping I had sent it in time." His eyes roved over the faces and noted who was not there, for future references. "Yes, I have enlisted the services of a brilliant vocal trainer, but he also is a composer, designer, architect, artist, musician and intellect; his name is Mr. Erik Clairvaux. His wealth is such that he will also be our new financier."
The assembled people began to mumble amongst themselves. "He is French by birth; the only child of Sir Marcel Clairvaux and his lovely wife, Émilie; both of his parents past when he was a child."
Erik had given his approval for Roland to tell his story to those he would be working with and around, he wanted no secrets lingering out there that would hinder his new life. He had tried that angle before, it had only resulted in pain and suffering; he was ready to begin again.
Roland sighed and began the painful story of Erik's past, leaving out nothing.
The players sat quietly after Roland was done, they were stunned into silence. How could a father do that to his own child? And the way he was treated by the gypsies…atrocious! Roland made sure that they knew that Erik had taught himself everything he knew and was a genius in all areas.
Donovan Kellar, a bass in the chorus, raised his hand to ask a question. "You said he kidnapped this woman and threatened to kill her fiancé…that does not sound like the actions of a completely rational person to me." Some mumbling of agreement went around the room.
Roland thought for a minute and addressed the issue, "Donovan, have you ever done something in the name of love that you regretted doing later?" Roland knew that the young man had, but wanted to hear him admit it.
"That's different, I never hurt anyone." Donovan mumbled, self-righteously.
"Erik put all he had into this young girl from the time she was seven and he was twenty-one. He trained her voice to be able to sore with the eagles and bring even the most hardened heart to tears with just the sound of her voice." Roland stressed his words, he wanted them to understand Erik's pain.
"He watched her grow from an awkward, gangly girl into a lithe, sinewy woman before his eyes. He fell in love with her…and he finally got the nerve to reveal himself to her as a man and not an angel." Roland paused, catching his breath.
"You mean to say, he taught this girl to be the quality singer that you heard her to be and he did it without ever being seen by her?" Lizzette Gordon asked, baffled.
"Yes Lizzette, he is brilliant beyond words." Roland stressed, and everyone seemed to agree. "His love for her propelled him into the light, something he had not ever done before; this is the same time that her childhood sweetheart came back into her life…and Erik had to deal with jealousy for the first time ever."
Roland had already told them about Erik's scars and the way his father had mutilated the right side of his face. He told them that he felt himself unworthy and incapable of the love of a woman.
"His actions turned desperate at the prospect of losing her and once again being thrust into the never-ending hopelessness of solitude and loneliness." Roland saw tears in the eyes of all the women and some of the men were looking a bit uncomfortable. "In the end, he let them both go at the cost of his heart and perhaps, a part of his soul."
Nannette Klawson raised her hand, "Why didn't she love him…he sounds like a wonderfully gifted man who was willing to give her everything?"
Roland smiled sadly, hoping he could make her understand. "Erik will tell you it is because of the way he looks…he thinks that no woman will ever be able to get past the fact that he wears a mask and is hideously ugly…but I am letting you know; that is only his opinion." Roland paused to catch his breath, "I have spoken with Christine personally. She tells me that her heart already belonged to another when Erik asked for it…she was not free to love him as he wished to be loved."
Roland smiled as he remembered their conversation. "But love him she does…there will never be another man like him in her life…he has her soul." Roland emphasized that, "She only wants him to be happy…oh, and she wanted me to make sure all of you ladies understand that he is definitely NOT ugly…in fact, she stated he was quite possibly the most attractive man she knew."
Roland dismissed everyone and watched as Karlie approached him. He remembered the letter that Audrey had given him for her; he removed it from his inner coat pocket and held it out to her.
Karlie smiled as she took it and gave Roland a hug. "Audrey wanted you to have that, she said that it was nice to hear about how well you are doing." Roland hugged her back and as she pulled away from him, he thought about how much he wished she had been his daughter…for he had been hopelessly in love with her mother.
"Roland, it is so good to have you back…I miss you when you're gone." Karlie said with a laugh. "You know you are like a father to me." Roland's heart warmed in his chest, he had never loved again since her mother. They had a few moments together, just as friends, for that was all he could be to her; Thierry had been his best friend.
It wasn't that he had not had the opportunity to love again, he just did not have the desire. His career meant too much to him and he was not willing to make the sacrifices that were necessary to have a family, but he had taken Karlie under his wing after Thierry had begun having bad health…they were close.
"I miss you too, Karlie…how are things going?" Roland noticed that she seemed a bit disturbed, but he would not pressure her into answering him.
"Everything is good…I had an unusual encounter last night, but I am sure it was an isolated incident and will not be repeated." Karlie noticed the concerned look that Roland gave her, "Don't worry Roland, I handled it."
Roland had never meant a woman as formidable as Karlie…she was physically strong, mentally strong, inwardly strong, and her strengths were matched only by her determination and tenacity.
Although she had been an only child, Thierry and Stella had not spoiled her. Stella had wanted her to become a ballerina, but Thierry also wanted her educated…they got both. The child excelled at anything they asked of her and soon became the reigning Prima Donna of the opera house.
Her intelligence had cost her many relationships; men just did not want a smart woman. They preferred somewhat brainless trophies to display in front of their friends and accompany them everywhere…Karlie had never found love.
Stella had passed shortly after she and Karlie had returned from Paris. Karlie was eight when she died. Stella never got the chance to see her daughter become the ballerina she had known she would be.
Thierry had died a little bit with the passing of his wife, but for the sake of his daughter, he had to go on. He purchased the opera house and turned it into the success that it had been before the war hit. The investment had cost him everything he owned.
She was hardworking and stubborn, but she was all woman. Long, curly raven hair framed exquisite features. Her eyes were deep, midnight blue with long lashes. Her skin was the color of alabaster and as soft as rose petals.
She is the most talented ballerina Roland has ever seen and her body was lithe, slender and graceful. She was barely above five feet tall, but her body was perfectly proportioned. Her breasts were very ample and had to be kept confined when she danced, but other than that, she was perfect.
She kissed him on the cheek and walked away, thinking about the mysterious man she had encountered last night. She hoped he had found a warm place to sleep and something to eat…she regretted how she had let him walk away without providing him with these things.
The story Roland had told about the new vocal coach and financier, had left a feeling of emptiness in her. She could not imagine being subjected to that level of human cruelty and living to tell about it; the father had truly been a monster. Karlie tried to erase the mental images from her mind and move on, but they plagued her throughout the day.
Toward the end of the day, Karlie remembered the letter that Roland had given her from Audrey. She sat down in her dressing room and opened it.
"My Dearest Karlie;
"It has been twenty-three years since I first laid eyes on you and your great talent. You were a light in my darkness, my child. Your gift for dancing is unsurpassed, even to this day. But enough about the past.
"It is the future I wish to bring to your attention. If you are reading this, it means that you have within your midst a man whose musical gift is unsurpassed. His voice will make you weep from the sheer beauty of it and his music will make you weep, not only because of its beauty, but also its sadness.
"Erik Clairvaux spent his first two years in the loving embrace of his mother and aunt. At the age of two and a half, his father returned. Marcel had once been a remarkable and gifted man of science, so much so that he had been knighted.
"His marriage to Émilie was a thing of beauty…for the first four years. Then Marcel started experimenting on himself with his elixirs and formulas. He developed syphilis from his sexual misconduct with prostitutes and in his sick mind Erik was a demon child, conceived in sin and hate.
"Miraculously, he escaped the anguish, but not before his father mutilated his face and robbed him of his humanity. He ran for several months and ended up in a gypsy camp and was held prisoner for the sheer purpose of causing a shock to those who frequented the carnival. He was displayed for the audience without his mask and was hardly fed and had no clean water.
"He was made to feel worthless; an animal at best. The was called "monster", "beast" and "The Devil's Child". He was told he would never have the love of a woman…none would be able to bear to look at him. He was made to think his mother had abandoned him to his father; and he was so skinny; but even then, I saw the stunning handsomeness of this young boy.
"When I saved him from this fate, he was around eleven-years-old, and I was twenty-one. I watched him turn into the genius he is and I watched him sink into depression and bouts of severe loneliness and sorrow. He buried himself beneath the opera house and resided on the banks of an underground lake.
"He never knew love until Christine came into his life. At first, the relationship consisted of Erik's voice coming to her in the night and teaching her how to sing. She thought he was an angel, literally…the angel of music. He taught her as the years drifted by, and her voice soared from his attentions.
"He was thirteen years older than she was and as he watched her turn from a lanky, awkward duckling into the elegant, graceful swan, he fell in love…for the first and last time. Unfortunately, another man entered the picture; and Erik knew he could not compete with another man.
"Truth be known, Erik has him beat…bar none. I am sure you will eventually see the man behind the mask; please remember…he is still a man. The physical beauty he possesses on the rest of his being is…breathtaking. I am asking you to try and see more than what his behind that mask.
"In the end, he made her make a choice, knowing what her decision would be. He threatened to kill Raoul, the man she was in love with, so she chose to live in the darkness with Erik, to save the man she had agreed to marry.
" She gave Erik his first and only kiss to let him know her decision, but Erik knew it was only to save Raoul. He loved her so much that he could not condemn her to a world of darkness or to a man, who in his own mind, was no better than a twisted monster…he let them go.
"Erik has killed…in self-defense. He has considered suicide on several occasions, but never gave into it, thankfully. He has resolved himself to never love again…it almost cost him his life and sanity. But…I know that he needs to find love, or rather, love needs to find him, for he will not seek it out…and he is so very worthy of it.
"Karlie, all I ask from you is that you keep an eye on him and be his friend…if possible. He will not feel worthy of your friendship, your touch or any affection you may show him…but he will crave it. He will try and push anyone away who tries to get close to him…he will be afraid of being hurt. He will flirt and play mind and verbal games, but he will go no further than that, for the barrier is thick around his heart.
"Thank you my friend…maybe he will come to mean as much to you as he does to me.
"Oh, and one other thing, Christine does love him…something he fails to see. She could not give herself to him, as he wanted her to; she had already made a promise to another man. Do not think ill of her.
"Good bye, for now; I will come to visit…trust me on this. Erik left me a wealthy woman by giving me his inherited estate. I will wire you when I am coming.
Audrey Giry"
Karlie felt tears running down her face. Audrey was entrusting her with Erik's broken spirit and asking her to be his friend. She had not even seen the man yet, but she knew she would try to be his friend. Since he had earned the love and respect that Audrey gave him, then we was worthy of hers.
She made a promise to herself and to the absent form of Audrey that she would do her best to befriend this strange man. He may fight it, but then, Karlie was always up for a good challenge.
OOOOOOOOOOOOO
Erik had dressed as soon as he had risen and had hidden in the shadows until he heard the gathering of people being addressed by Roland. He knew that his life was going to be the subject of conversation and did not with to remain in the area to hear the sneers, laughter, and hateful words that he was certain would be pointed his direction.
He made his way to the back door and entered the city of New Orleans. He found his way back to the house of Dominique Chandler and knocked at the door. Her maid answered and showed Erik into the parlor; what a charming little house this was.
"Mr. Clairvaux, to what do I owe the honor of your company so early on a Tuesday morning?" Ms. Chandler entered the room looking every bit as beautiful as she did the night before.
Erik smiled reservedly and turned toward her approaching figure. He took note, as any male would, of how her blond tresses curled around her round face with inviting softness and her brown eyes sparkled with intelligence. She was a rather large woman, tall and pleasantly plump. She was feminine, but she had toughness to her. She addressed Erik as though he were completely civilized…and not the monster she knew him to be.
"I would like to arrange a purchase for the dancers at the opera house. I have done some investigative research and have found that the ballet slippers they have are all worn and in bad need of replacing." Erik had been appalled at the shape of the shoes. He would not have his dancers and ballerinas fluttering about in substandard footwear.
A luminous smile lit up her face, "That sounds like a wise investment, coming from the financier of the opera." Dominique was impressed with his generosity, the last financier had expected the dancers and ballerinas to purchase their own clothing, but he paid them so little.
Erik seemed to not hear her compliment as he continued, "They should also have new dance leotards, skirts and body suits; everything is so worn and torn. I will have a tailor come to the opera house and take measurements and shoe sizes and the outfits will be made to fit." Erik stated.
Dominique was intrigued by this man's interest in what others considered the minor details, "Are you going to start this today?"
Erik smiled at her, an act that she realized made him look ten years younger and even more attractive, "No, it will take me some time to solicit the tailor. I hope to be able to have him come out tomorrow and begin measurements."
Dominique smiled, she admired this man…all that he had surely endured as he sought to hide his injuries from the world had molded him into a very leery man; and yet, he had a very generous heart and kind spirit. He needed someone he could trust and confide in…she wanted to be that person.
"I would be delighted to accompany you Mr. Clairvaux. I know of some renowned tailors in New Orleans, I am sure we can easily find one to suit your needs." Dominique offered.
Erik nodded his agreement and watched as she gathered some papers and called a cab. He tried not to seem to intent on her physical attributes, but he caught himself staring at her on several occasions. She really was attractive, Erik had never given much thought to size and shape on women…but then again, he had never been around a woman who was not a dancer or physically training for the theater. He found that her soft, round curves were very appealing.
She was highly intelligent and witty and Erik found that he enjoyed her company very much. There were times she seemed a bit brash and forward, but Erik passed that off as a product of American women.
Erik decided he would just ask the question he had been dying to ask since she first introduced herself, "Ms. Chandler, why is it that you hide behind a pseudonym, especially a male one?" Erik prayed he did not offend this woman, he counted her as a friend.
Dominique raised her eyes to his and smiled, "Mr. Clairvaux, please call me Demi, that is what my friends call me…and I count you as a friend." Erik nodded his agreement. "I found out very early in my pursuit as an accountant and financial advisor that people do not like to do business with a woman, they immediately put up barriers."
Demi was thoughtful as she continued, "I do not have the best reputation, on a personal level, and people do not associate with me." She was a little bit hesitant to continue, but she knew Erik's deep, dark secret…she figured he would like to know a little more about her past, colorful as it was.
"Erik, I was orphaned at the age of 12 and had no one to turn to." Dominique stated, sadness lacing her voice, "I literally tumbled into this woman one night, after I have been on the streets for days with no food and no place to sleep. She took me in, fed me, gave me a place to sleep…and took me to meet her 'benefactor', Ms. Edith Barlow."
Demi took a deep breath, steeling herself for the worst, "Ms. Barlow was the owner and curator of the most infamous brothel in New Orleans…the place where all the "best clientele" came for release…she took me in and 'conditioned' me to become a courtesan, only to be available to the richest patrons."
Demi's face was stone, except for one solitary tear that ran down her cheek. "I had my first encounter at the age of fourteen…and never looked back…until I met Michael." Demi's face lit up with an inner glow.
Erik saw the love shining in Demi's eyes; she had loved, and possibly still loved, very deeply.
Her voice was dreamy, "Michael started out as a client; rich, unorthodox, progressive. He would always ask for me when he was in town…and he started being in town more and more."
Demi lifted sparkling eyes to Erik's green orbs, "He treated me differently than the others…like I was actually worth something and not just damaged goods." She smiled radiantly, "It was the one thing that all the girls dreamed about happening to them…meeting prince charming and falling in love."
Tears were flowing freely, know, and Demi did not bother to wipe them away. "Only for me, it actually happened…Michael whisked me away and we were married. I was 19 and he was 33." Demi continued to smile, but sadness was lurking in its beauty. "He educated me and gave me a private tutor to obtain my accounting degree…he knew the universities would never accept me…so he handled it himself."
A few moments of silence occurred; Erik took the time to reflect on this man whose love and non-judgmental ways had saved a woman from an early grave and given her the chance of a lifetime.
"He came home one day and said he would be leaving to join the confederate army to fight for the southern states…he had always been a man of great conviction." Demi's voice faltered.
"I received word a couple of years ago that he had been injured and was laid up in the hospital in Birmingham." Demi stated through her tears.
"I made the trip to see him and bring him home…and bring him home I did." Her eyes were filled with recent and on-going pain, "He remains in a coma at Grace Hospital in New Orleans…he will, most likely, never wake up."
Erik watched as her shoulders shook with the force of her cries. He had no idea how to react to her pain…he had only felt his own for all these years.
He arose and went to sit beside her. His hand slowly and gently touched her shoulder. She turned into the warmth he offered and buried her head in his chest. He was the first person to show her any kindness since Michael had fallen ill. The locals knew her reputation and despised her. None of that had mattered when Michael was there to buffet the blows, but she had remained alone for two years now, fighting the insults and stares by herself.
Erik stiffened, but knew that she needed a body to which to cling. He let her sob into his coat jacket and gently tapped her shoulder to show concern.
"If it had not been for his willingness to educate me and allow me to pursue my dream, I would have no means of supporting myself at this time…but he made me what I am and I owe him my faithfulness and dedication." Demi said, regret lacing her words. "While there is breath in his body, I will love no other."
Erik was a hard man to impress, and it was even harder to earn his respect and admiration…Demi had done all three. "I am not much of a conversationalist, nor am I accustom to being around people or showing affection…but if you need a friend Demi, I'm here."
Demi drew back from her sobs and, for the first time, allowed herself to really look at Erik. What she saw was a very attractive man, with no self-esteem, who had been dealt a very bad hand in life and did not see his own worth.
"I will accept your friendship, Mr. Clairvaux, if you will accept mine." She stated, with a smile.
Erik's hands shook as he realize he had just done something he had never done before, he initiated contact with another human being based entirely on the desire to have them as a friend, and nothing more.
"If you insist on my calling you Demi; then I must insist on you calling me Erik" Erik said.
"Done." Demi stated. "Tell me Erik, do you have a wife or girlfriend lurking in your background?"
Erik laughed, hoping the bitterness he felt did not come out in his voice. "I have never known the touch of a woman. My visage prevents them from wanting anything to do with me…I am considered a monster in most of polite society." Erik looked at the woman before him, "You are the first woman to actually accept friendship from me."
Demi moved from across the carriage to sit beside him, she grasped his large, articulate hand in hers and looked him earnestly in the eyes, "How many women have you known on a personal level?" She asked.
Erik looked at her dolefully, "Three, you would be number four."
Demi raised her eyebrow at him and pursed her lips, "Erik, you can't judge the entire female population by a few women in France." Her voice was fun and light, "I happen to think you are very attractive." She said with a smile.
Erik found he enjoyed her sense of humor, "Well, a lot of good that does me…since you're taken!"
"This is true, Erik…but my friendship can turn you into a real ladies man." Erik shook his head in disbelief at her words.
"Even if I believed what you are saying, I don't want to be a ladies man…I only want one lady that will love me unconditionally…despite my ugliness." Erik stated.
They approached the tailor shop, which prevented Demi from responding. As they entered the establishment, an Asian man, mid forties greeted them with a big smile, Demi introduced him, "Erik, I would like for you to meet Mr. Chou Su Yung; Mr. Yung, this is Mr. Erik Clairvaux, recently moved here from Paris."
Mr. Yung bowed to Erik, who in turn, bowed back. Introductions out of the way, Erik sat down with the man and gave him the list of items he requested. They discussed materials and colors and Erik was very impressed with the man's knowledge and capabilities.
"Can you come to the opera house day after tomorrow and begin measurements?" Erik asked.
"Of course, Mr. Clairvaux, any friend and client of Ms. Chandler's, is a friend and client of mine." Mr. Yung said, with a big smile.
"Splendid, I will see you in two days, at 10:00 a.m." Erik shook the small man's hand and exited the building. He felt very good about this investment and was excited to be able to bring these gifts to the dancers and ballerinas.
Demi found that she enjoyed being around a man who did not try to intimidate her, dominate her, bed her or talk down to her. He valued her opinion, even knowing that she could never be anything more than his friend.
Erik took Demi to dinner to celebrate their business and personal relationship; he had never felt so at ease in the presence of a woman before. Her unconditional love for her husband caused a yearning in Erik that ate him from the inside out. When, if ever, would his time come?
He dropped her back at her home and headed back to the opera house. It would take a few more days, at least, for him to feel like this was home. But he was already off to a fairly decent start…well except for last nights mishap.
Erik had just rounded the corner, headed back to the practice room when he heard footsteps. He knew that most of the players, staff, and performers had moved back into the opera house to resume practice for the coming season, so he wasn't too concerned; but he was cautious, nonetheless.
He stood as still as the night, his keen senses adjusting to the new surroundings. The footfalls were soft and light, indicating female and they were deliberate, indicating that they knew where they were going. Erik continued on his way, certain that the steps belonged to one of the performers or staff members.
He made his way quietly down the hall and found his room. He removed his mask and ran a bath, relaxing in the simple joy of water against his skin. He had never met a woman like Demi before; strong willed, confident, independent and educated, but these were attributes that he found very attractive.
He had spent his entire life loathing prostitution for how it belittled and degraded women. He had never considered that for some women, it was the only choice they had, if they wanted to remain alive. Demi had been one of those women.
Erik finished his bath, did a little reading, and went to bed. He had a friend, and to top that, he had a woman friend.
To Be Continued…