The morning had slipped away as they talked, and it was already lunchtime. Christine asked if they could pack a basket and blanket and eat by the brook, since it was another lovely spring day.
"I don't see why not," Erik amiably replied. As she rounded up some tasty provisions from their stores, Erik took her sealed letter to the landlord to be mailed in town, along with one he had written but not shared with her. The envelope was directed to Antoinette Giry, but inside was a letter for the managers of the opera. He returned, gallantly carrying the basket and taking her hand in his free one to guide her along the path to the cottage and beyond, back to their tinkling brook.
It was peaceful under the shade trees, and since they had watched the landlord & his wife head to town in their carriage while they were eating, they felt quite tranquil and private. "Erik, why don't you take off your mask?" Christine suggested. "We're all alone, and it would surely be more comfortable for you." He debated internally for a few minutes before he complied, with some stern self-talk before he could accomplish it in the daylight. The way that his lovely girl beamed at him when he did made it worth the effort, and the breeze felt amazingly cool on his skin.
After lunch was cleared away, he laid back, arms behind his head, and looked into the leafy ceiling above them. This was an entirely new experience for Erik, and he savored the sensations. Christine sat next to him on the blanket, braiding some white clover she had picked into a long chain. When she got bored with that, she began to tickle his nose with one of the flowers, laughing when he sneezed.
He laughed, too, then seized her hand and pulled her down next to him, rolling over to pin her down so she would stop the tickling. Looking into her glowing face, he couldn't resist kissing her lips again. He determined to remain in control, kissing gently and slowly as they learned together what felt right for them. They had all the time in the world on this lazy, sunny day to experience the simple pleasure of the embrace, and he didn't want to ruin it for either of them. He surmised that Christine had as little experience as he did with the "joys of the flesh", and wanted to go slowly, and prove to her that his love was real, not just physical.
When she licked her lips to moisten them, unintentionally brushing his lips with her tongue in the process, he felt a sudden surge of desire, put her gently aside before he could act on it, and rose to his feet. He took her hands and lifted her, also, into a strong hug. "Oh, Christine, Christine, what you do to me!" he murmured. "It is mutual, dear," she answered him, also feeling the temptation to stir the flames, but allowing him to be her master in this area, also, though it confused her a bit.
They spent a little more time outside, watching the cows & the white birds in the field full of clovers. One of the barn cats had led her kittens outside for sunning, and they frisked and scampered, provoking laughter from Christine as they played at attacking each other, pouncing and rolling. Erik smiled, and when a particularly curious gray kitten came tumbling over to them, he picked it up and held it for her to stroke, enjoying the rumbling purr against his chest. He scratched under its chin and it licked his fingers with a sandpaper tongue. "So, little one" he told it, "it seems you aren't afraid of phantoms, either." He was pleased to be accepted so easily by such an innocent creature.
The couple then headed back "home" to Erik's house, the kitten starting to follow but getting easily distracted back to its playmates. Once in the house, Erik sat at the old piano, and, finding it tuned adequately, he began to play a familiar song he had used in the past to help train her voice and beckoned her to join in. She complied, ever obedient to her "master" and they finished the afternoon in song.
"It is so much more satisfying now that I can see your expressions!" Christine exclaimed at one pause. "Instead of relying on your verbal cues, I can see from watching you when I need to do something differently."
Suppertime came, and Christine managed a creditable simple meal which they both enjoyed, and which boosted her confidence immensely. The landlords had a commendable collection of classic books in the little house, so they looked them over and each chose one, settling in to read quietly. Erik knew that Christine read a great deal from his years of observing her, but she was delighted to find that was also one of his hobbies. It was important to find these things out about each other, as their relationship had to be based on more than just the chemistry between them.
Their second day in the country ended much like the first, with Erik escorting Christine back to the cottage, resisting the temptation to experience more than just a goodnight kiss. Christine sat on her bed alone, brushing her long hair and wondering silently, "I think he loves me, but he hasn't actually said so, or said that he wants to marry me. How long do I stay here if he doesn't speak soon? I want to be with him always, but I also want marriage and children, and respectability. He said he didn't ever want to let me go, but what does that really mean?"
Lots of puzzling thoughts in her head….too many to figure out, but they kept her awake long after she had blown out the candles and lain down alone in the strange bed. She was enjoying her time with Erik, but the insecurity about the future was beginning to disturb her.
