Chapter Summary: Erik and Christine continue to struggle in their efforts to make peace. He bids her good bye – for the time being. Christine finds comfort in a sweater. Meg finds comfort with her mother. Tallis reaches an uncomfortable truce with Val – her comfort coming in the arms of another.

CHAPTER THIRTY EIGHT

"Give me your hands," Alain Coulliard told Christine, taking the offered hands. "Now, I am slowly going to raise you to a sitting position. If you feel dizzy or nauseous, I wish you let me know."

Christine sighed. "I have been in this bed for two weeks, if I do not get up soon, I shall become very silly."

"I do not think you could ever be silly," Alain told his patient and began to gently pull on her hands. "And you have been very good about obeying my orders."

"I would do anything for my baby," Christine said and closed her eyes. "The room …" she said and swallowed hard.

"We will pause for a moment," Alain said. "You open your eyes when you are ready."

Christine nodded and waited with her eyes closed for another minute, slowly slitting them open. "I think," she breathed. "I think I am ready."

Alain lifted Christine the rest of the way to an upright position, keeping hold of her hands as she sat swaying lightly on the edge of her bed. "It is well?" he wondered and watched as Christine nodded her head. "Then let us take the next step and try standing." Alain watched as Christine's hands crept up his arms, gripping them tightly. "We shall go on three, yes?" he asked as he tightened his hold on his patient.

"Yes," Christine replied, her voice trembling with nervous anticipation. "Three."

"One, two," Alain gave Christine a moment to brace herself. "Three," he said and lifted Christine to her feet, keeping hold of her arms. "How do you feel?"

"A trifle unsteady."

"It shall pass. Any pain or cramping?"

"No," Christine said hesitantly. "No," she repeated a look of amazement crossing her face. "No!" she cried and flung her arms about the doctor's neck. "No, no, no!"

Alain patted her lightly on the back. "That is a very good thing." He drew back so that he could look at his patient's face. "But that does not mean I wish for you to do anything foolish. I want you to take things slowly. I do not want you traipsing all over the countryside. If you feel dizzy or tired, I wish you to rest. I want you to spend as much time in the garden as you feel comfortable with for the air will do you good." He smiled as Christine solemnly nodded her head. "I shall leave further instructions with Marie." Alain gave her a solemn smile. "You are to follow all my directions without question."

"It is a promise," Christine told him, tears forming at the corners of her eyes. "Thank you," she whispered softly. "Thank you for saving my baby."

A crooked smile crossed Alain's face. "I did have some help," he assured her. "Now I must go but I shall come back in a week to look in on you. If anything happens before then …"

"I shall send for you immediately," Christine finished.

"Good girl," Alain said as he turned on his heel, gathered his black bag from the end of the bed and walked out the door, giving a purposeful glare to the man standing in the corner.

Christine waited until the door had closed behind Alain before turning her attention to Erik. "I will be fine," she told him.

Erik kept his hands crossed over his chest as he leaned against the wall. "I heard," he grumbled.

Christine let out an angry breath and walked slowly to the window, pushing it open and staring at the ocean off in the distance. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, smelling each wave on the air, the scent sending her back to a happier time and place. Christine could feel the tears on her cheeks and she stiffened as she felt a pair of strange hands on her shoulders. "Please do not touch me," she told her former teacher.

Erik withdrew his hands and was surprised at the angry look Christine gave him as she turned from the window.

"Do you know why I came to this place?" she asked and did not wait for an answer. "I came because it is near to the sea. Raoul and I first met as children by the sea and I came here so that I could hold to that memory. I came here in the hope that doing so would allow me to keep my husband's memory alive and vibrant. I came here so that I could remember a beautiful boy with gold hair - hair that was not red with his blood." Christine's lips turned into a frown. "And when you touch me, my skin crawls because it is not Raoul's hands touching me." The tears were streaming down her cheeks. "Those gentle hands that never touched me with anything other than love. Those beautiful hands that those evil creatures tore to shreds."

Erik was pained. "Christine, please," he pleaded with her, "you must not upset yourself. I could not … I cannot …" he found himself reaching for her, his hands pausing halfway between them.

"My skin crawls because I remember his hands, his voice," she whispered, her gaze becoming unfocused, unable to see the shocked look on Erik's face. "That … that … that monster who murdered my husband , who was waiting for me the day I left … who …" she finally focused on the hands that were suddenly on her arms.

"What?" Erik snarled all traces of humility suddenly gone.

Christine shook her head.

"What happened?" Erik demanded, desperately fighting down the urge to shake the woman in his arms.

Christine lowered her eyes, her voice distant and hollow. "I stopped at Raoul's cr … oh God … I wanted to say goodbye to my husband and leave him the gift I had purchased." A sad smile crossed her face. "I had brought a Saint Joseph medallion and I was going to give it to Raoul on the day I told him he was going to be a father." Christine's chin trembled. "There were two men there – one had a mask and the other I did not see but they said they had a message from Raoul." She shook her head. "The one I could not see put his hand over my mouth and drew me to him, his gun on my cheek … at my back … he said things …" Christine lifted her head and looked toward the window. "And I did not believe them but they said Perros and I knew that only Raoul would know that." She turned back to Erik, the tears dripping from her chin. "That man … that creature … those hands … I will never be able to forget that feeling."

"Oh, Christine," Erik said as he gathered her in his arms, gently patting her back as she sobbed into his shoulder, his own guilt ripping a hole in his heart as he remembered his actions toward Tallis. He let go of Christine as she began to pull away from him. "I am so sorry you had to endure that." Anger flashed in his eyes. "If I were to ever find that man I would kill him for that alone."

Christine's eyes flashed Erik's anger back at him. "Now you know how I feel," she told him as she wiped at her tears. "I am so angry!" Christine said between clenched teeth. "I am so angry at everything!"

"I wish I could take your anger away," Erik replied softly.

"I know," Christine sighed. "But you cannot." She shook her head. "Nor can you stay here forever; you must return to Paris."

"I am expected to leave you here with only a maid and her country family to care for you and your child?" Erik was incredulous.

"Marie," Christine emphasized the name, "is perfectly capable of doing anything – as is her family. And I can care for myself," a nasty smile momentarily crossed her lips, "and Raoul's baby perfectly fine on my own."

Erik stared at her. "I am not forgiven, am I?"

Christine did not even have to pause for thought. "Perhaps not," she admitted. "But how can you honestly expect me to forgive you when I have yet to forgive myself?"

"It was too much to hope," Erik replied softly, taking one of Christine's hands and raising it, his lips brushing against the back of her knuckles, lingering on her wedding rings. "I pray you and your child well, Vicomtess; and should you so permit, I would like to return in a fortnight," he gave Christine a wistful smile, "just to ensure my troubled mind that you continue to be well."

Christine sniffled. "I could not stop you if I wanted," she answered and nodded tiredly. "In a fortnight. I shall see the guest room is ready for you."

"Till then," Erik whispered as he turned on his heel, crossing to the door and giving one last look back before closing the door behind him.

Christine crossed the room and placed her ear against the door; she could hear Erik's footsteps as they descended the staircase. She could hear voices wafting up from the first floor and smiled; Marie was giving Erik a lecture and Christine smiled – Marie could hold her own against anyone. She drew back from the door, and turned to the room, walking across to kneel in front of a small trunk. Christine's hands reached for the lock, pausing, trembling before touching it, opening it. She reached in and pulled out an ivory cable-knit sweater. Christine closed the trunk and moved to the rocking chair near the open window. She sat down in the chair, closing her eyes as she drew the sweater to her nose.

"Raoul," she breathed as the tears came again, the smell of Raoul's cologne on his sweater bringing them forth from the darkness in which Christine had kept them locked.

She shook the small leafless tree, the powdery snow showering him in diamond dust.

"That is not fair," Raoul said as he turned around, brushing the snow from his sweater, "you snuck up on me."

Christine bounced on her toes, her cheeks a bright pink from more than the early winter chill. "It is the only way I can ever win with you."

Raoul's eyes twinkled merrily. "Is it now, Madame?" he wondered, a wicked grin curling his lips.

Christine began to back away, preparing to run for their home. "It is, indeed, sir," she tried, a nervous laugh escaping.

"Vicomtess," Raoul replied taking one step forward for every two that Christine took backwards.

"Vicomte," Christine giggled.

Raoul shook his head. "Christine."

"Raoul." Christine winked at him before turning on her heel and running for the house, her heels slipping on the icy walkway. She let out a shriek as she began to tumble forward only to find herself suddenly caught up in two strong arms, pulled into a warm embrace, a beating heart beneath her ear. "You always catch me," she said softly as she wrapped her arms about her husband.

"I shall never let you fall," Raoul whispered back as she raised her face to him. "Never," he repeated as he reached down for the lips that sought his …

The tears continued to flow as Christine drew Raoul's sweater to her heart with one hand, the other going to rest gently over her child. "And I shall never let you fall," she promised her baby, her eyes closing as Christine surrendered to sleep and the dreams it brought forth, a final whispered prayer, "Oh, Raoul."

"Oh, Maman," Meg whispered as she turned from the watching her husband in the garden. "I wish you would let me go to her."

Antoinette shook her head. "You know her wishes; Christine is trying – at least she believes she is trying - to protect her child."

Meg huffed and flounced over to where her mother was seated, plopping down on the damask-covered sofa. "But I would not let her secret slip!"

"My dear," Antoinette said as she shook her head. "It is more than likely that you would let her secret slip when you are having one of your scatter-brained moments."

"Maman!" Meg was rather horrified.

Antoinette reached for her daughter's hand. "Marguerite, I love you more than my very life," she began gently. "But that does not mean I am blind to your faults and you must admit that there are times when you become so excited that you do not think before you speak." She lightly squeezed the hand she held as Meg opened her mouth. "I know you have gotten much better at thinking first and speaking second over these years but Christine is a very troubled young woman at the moment. We must do nothing to further trouble her."

"I suppose," Meg pouted and raised a delicately arched eyebrow at her mother. "But you sent Erik."

"I did," Antoinette admitted. "I sent him because I know he will never divulge Christine's whereabouts even under the threat of death. And I sent him because I know neither one of them – Erik or Christine – will ever be free of their pasts, free to move forward with their lives, until they can find it within their hearts to forgive themselves, to forgive each other."

"Do you think that will ever happen?" Meg wondered.

"Oh, my dear," Antoinette sighed, "I do hope such a thing comes to pass." She sighed. "I am getting far too old to manage the lives of the young."

"Maman!" Meg exclaimed.

"Oh, do not fret yourself, child," she replied, patting Meg's hand. "I am not about to vanish from the face of this earth; but I should dearly love a few years without the turmoil that so often accompanies the lives of the young." A crooked smile crossed Antoinette's face. "I should love to be able to putter about my garden or walk in the park or just sit and read a book without having to worry that the lives of my beloved young people are being tossed and turned by the winds of emotional upheaval."

"You would not know what to do with such quiet!" Meg grinned at her mother. "Perhaps, Val and I should do something about adding a grandchild to disturb this peace you seek."

Antoinette laughed delightedly. "I should like nothing better," she admitted and grew serious. "Ah – but I do not relish the thought of having to share your child with the Dowager Baroness."

"Nor do I," Meg frowned. "At least we are not venturing there for our annual summer visit." She sniffled back tears. "Raoul's death and my concern for Christine are reasons for Val and me to stay in Paris that even she understands." Meg looked at her mother with concern. "I just hope Tallis understands and will still wish to visit her parents."

Both women turned their attention to the windows that looked out over the back garden.

"Somehow I doubt that," Antoinette muttered beneath her breath.

Tallis, too, was struggling with her doubts. "I just do not know," she told Val as her fingers fiddled with the folds of her skirt. She was sitting with Val on the wrought iron bench beneath the shade of the oak trees.

"My wife does not wish to be more than two days from the Vicomtess should she be needed," Val said gently. "And my mother understands that; she understands our need to remain in Paris this summer after what has happened. That does not mean you should not return; I know your parents would love to see you."

"But the cost," Tallis tried weakly, grasping at straws.

"You know I would cover the cost," Val reminded her and watched as Tallis worried her bottom lip between her teeth; Val let out a long breath and leaned back on the bench. "This desire of yours to remain here, to forgo the visit to your parents has nothing to do with the cost, does it?" There was no answer from the woman sitting beside him but Val did note that she turned her head away. "It has everything to do with Monsieur Herrin, does it not?"

"Yes," Tallis admitted sheepishly.

"I suspected as much." Val shook his head sadly. "I wish I were wrong," he finished rather sadly.

Tallis turned to him, amazed curiosity on her face. "What? Why?"

"I do not wish to offend you but I am going to speak my mind," Val told her. "Your family has always had my family's respect over the many years and generations in which we have been joined together. That did not change when I inherited the title. Nor did my own personal respect change for the sensitive young woman who grew from the curious child; I would never have suggested you as a companion to my wife's mother otherwise."

"But …" Tallis urged him forward.

Some of the tenderness in Val's face was replaced by a mild sternness. "But I wish you did not harbor this fondness in your heart for Monsieur Herrin."

"For you of all people to say that to me," Tallis was stunned. "You should know that one cannot help whom they love!"

"I am perfectly aware of that," Val replied. "Yet there is a difference between loving someone whom society deems inappropriate for petty and spiteful reasons and loving someone whom society shuns for perfectly good reasons."

"Mean, hateful reasons," Tallis groused and stuck out her chin. "The world is an ignorant, self-centered place and people cannot see beyond the end of their noses!"

"It is not his face, Mademoiselle, which causes society to turn from him." Val sighed. "It is his past deeds, his actions that society will not tolerate. Society cannot tolerate such actions from anyone for to do so would lead to chaos."

Tallis crossed her arms over her chest. "Then everyone that makes up this polite society of which you speak is ignorant and lacking even simple compassion." An angry frown crossed her face. "Everyone deserves a second chance. Everyone deserves to be forgiven and to find redemption."

"They do," Val nodded in agreement, "and I will admit to a grudging respect for Monsieur Herrin. He is a talented man and to have such talent overlooked is a great loss to the world. I also must believe there is good in him for the love my wife and her mother feel toward him." He managed a small smile. "For the affection you obviously feel for him." Val grew somber again. "But, my dear, you are harboring an affection for the right side of danger and danger – no matter the side - is always to be approached with caution. Unfortunately, the heart is not always capable of caution."

Tallis blushed and lowered her eyes, unaware of the deep scrutiny her actions caused.

"What has he done to you?" Val asked, his voice assuming the tone of a lord to a vassal. "Mademoiselle, I am awaiting an answer." There was still no reply from the woman sitting next to him. "Shall I send you home to your parents in disgrace this very day?"

Tallis raised a frightened face to Val. "You would not do that!"

"Do not try my patience," he warned her. "Answer my question."

"You are just being mean," Tallis told Val as she reached up to swipe at the tears forming in the corners of her eyes.

Val relented. "I am sorry," he apologized, "but I still bear responsibility for your safe-keeping."

Tallis rose to her feet. "When I am ever going to be old enough to be responsible for myself? When am I ever going to be old enough to make my own decisions, to know my own heart and mind? When am I ever going to be allowed to live my life?"

Val studied the agitated woman before him. "You are old enough; but being a single woman means that you must still answer to someone else for your life – be that a parent, a male relation or me. Would I wish it otherwise? Yes but that is not the rules that society has laid before us as guide for functioning in the world." He drew a deep breath. "Now, has he ever done anything to you that is questionable?"

"I despise society," Tallis muttered angrily. "And Monsieur has done nothing to me that would ever cause any to believe he is the monster they think," she willingly lied. "He has been nothing but gentle and respectful. He has patiently taught me things." She paused, her lips compressing into a thin line. "And he allows me to be the person that I am. He sees my dreams and does not tell me they are foolish. Erik believes in me and I believe in him." She stomped a small foot in the dirt. "And there is nothing anyone can do to change that."

Val stared up at Tallis for a long moment before slowly rising to his feet. "I see that you are determined to walk this path on which you find yourself and there is obviously nothing I can do to deter you." He shook his head. "May I offer you a bit of advice?"

Tallis nodded, not trusting her voice.

"Do not let your heart rule your head," Val told her. "I believe there are many emotions that your Monsieur Herrin has buried deep within his heart. I do not think he even knows they are there and I do not think he will ever be free of them." Val laid a gentle hand on Tallis' arm. "While he may be capable of love, he is also capable of great hurt; I do not wish to see you the victim of that hurt. Just be careful."

"Thank you, I shall," Tallis promised him. "And I shall write to my parents and explain that I must stay in Paris." She managed a small smile. "I shall tell them that I will come to visit in the autumn when the trees are turning in the mountains."

"Then I am satisfied," Val told her, giving Tallis one last smile before walking across the garden and disappearing into Antoinette's home.

Tallis heaved a great sigh and slowly sunk back to the bench. She held her hands before her face, staring blankly at them. "What am I to do?" she asked her empty hands. Receiving no answer, Tallis placed them over her face and bent forward from her waist. "What am I to do?" she repeated.

"Do about what?" a familiar voice asked.

Tallis jumped at that sound and flung herself into Erik's arms.

"I should leave more often if this is to be my reception upon returning," he said, rather stunned at the desperate feel of Tallis' arms about his neck.

"Please do not go," she whispered as she kissed him below the ear. "Please do not go again," she said as she turned her head, her lips seeking his. "Please do not leave me alone again."

Erik brushed his lips against the soft ones of the woman in his arms. "I shall never leave you again," he whispered, claiming Tallis' lips, desperate, demanding. "I shall never leave you again."

They both knew he lied.