Chapter 19

The Victoria glided through the city, driven by a pair of the finest horses money could buy. The sun was out, the weather was balmy and Raoul could not imagine a more encouraging beginning to the day ahead.

Intrigue, subterfuge, at last, something more than the boring day to day existence I live. And Antoinette…

His head was smart enough to appreciate her beauty, even while his heart still grieved his loss of Christine. He was pragmatic enough to know that he would never be her knight in shining armor. He'd imagined a fairy tale ending to a dream she hadn't really shared. Christine's future held only Erik now, and though it pained him to lose her to such a man, he would need to move on.

Antoinette promised to be an excellent companion for the day. But companion was not quite the word to describe her, though he was hesitant to credit her with anything more than that. He turned to look at her, noticing she watched him closely. She opened her mouth to say something and then shut it quickly, turning from him.

"Antoinette? What is it? Did you wish to say something?"

"Monsieur Vicomte. Only that you seem to be a million miles from here."

"I am sorry, Antoinette. I did have my mind on— other things, for a moment, yes. And please, if we are to appear familiar, you must call me Raoul. It would not do to call me Vicomte in front of the gendarme."

"Ah, oui— Raoul." The name felt comfortable to say, though she was a bit hesitant to use it. He was the Nobility, after all. And this was only a charade, for the sake of those involved and nothing more.

"Please, don't be nervous. We are out for an afternoon drive into the country, to enjoy the fresh air and sunshine. Just enjoy it with me. Everything will go as planned."

Antoinette remembered the feelings that had stirred in her back in her room, the look on his face, and wondered what exactly his motives were for this part of the plan. Christine had told her how demanding he could be, taking for granted that she would do as she was told, and wondered if he was expecting the same from her as well.

"I am sorry. I am just worried about today, that everything will go well. And I'm afraid the gendarme will see through our charade. I am not, you must admit, the type of woman a Vicomte usually takes for an afternoon ride." She watched as he looked her over, blatantly assessing her from top to bottom, and shifted in her seat.

"Antoinette, you underestimate yourself. You are a beautiful woman and any man would be proud to have you accompany him for the day."

She wasn't sure if he had paid her a true compliment or was being falsely considerate as his station would dictate, in order to make her relax. Christine had told her what had happened those last days at the opera house, how he had insisted she place herself in a position that could hurt or even kill her, had things gone differently, and it made her question his motives now. Though Christine had also said he had done it out of his misguided love for her, still, it made her wonder what his thoughts were regarding her as her station was far below his. There would be no reason for him to think anything more of her than what she was, an innkeeper's daughter. And what of Christine? Christine didn't love Raoul, not the way she obviously loved Erik. She had said as much to Antoinette, several times. She and Christine had become fast friends. What would something like this do to their relationship should she begin to have designs of her own on Raoul? Designs; what kind of designs could an innkeepers daughter have on a Vicomte? Still, Christine had told her that she hoped he could love again. Perhaps she wouldn't be too upset at the thought. And he would make for a pleasant diversion, despite their difference in social standings though she knew it could never be anymore than that…

They traveled in silence for some time, Phillipe handling the team with perfect skill. Though the ride was pleasant, Raoul's mind kept wandering to past scenes.

He watched, as an outsider would, the night of Christine's debut. He realized how he must have sounded, ordering her to dinner. Never asking, just assuming she would go without hesitation. When he had insisted, over and over, that the Phantom was only in her mind, nothing more. When he had put her in harm's way by insisting she play the role in Don Juan to lure the Phantom into the open, and the subsequent results. He had expected her to respond to him the way any other person not of the nobility would, agreeing to his demands. It suddenly occurred to him that love would not have demanded that of her. But he realized now, those demands were a mistake he could never erase. The one right thing he had done was to listen to Christine at the cemetery when she pled with him not to kill Erik. At least she was civil to him now and maybe in time…had he killed the man however, she would have hated him forever. That thought was too hard to bear and was interrupted as the carriage drew to a stop in an effort to avoid one of the urchins that played in the streets of the city. Turning to make sure Antoinette was all right, he saw that she once again looked as if she wanted to speak. He wondered that she didn't just come out and say what she had on her mind, then realized what his rank in society really meant to her.

"Antoinette, please. I see you wish to speak. Feel free to do so. I won't bite you and would enjoy the conversation. If you continually wait for my nod to do so, it will be a very long ride."

"It is only that you seem so far away, Raoul. Is there something bothering you about today?"

"No, I was just thinking."

"Thinking, yes, sometimes thinking is not a good thing. I am finding that myself, the closer we get to the checkpoint. I hope we do not find that things have gone badly today."

"As do I, Antoinette, as do I."

Raoul put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her to him, a little tighter than even he had planned, in an effort to give her some strength and reassurance. She rested her head on his shoulder for a moment, as if to absorb what he could offer. Remaining like that for some distance, he felt the same stirrings he had experienced earlier in the day.

She liked the feel of his arm around her and could understand Christine's initial feelings for him after seeing him last as a small boy. This was a very handsome man, and for a day, maybe two, she was in a position to enjoy what she would ordinarily never have an opportunity for. Time with a man, a true gentleman, not one of the sots from the tavern at the front of the inn. She'd had enough experience with that sort. Surely this man would be easier to handle than they were. With her head on his shoulder, she lost herself in her own thoughts of fairy tales and make believe.

They had gone quite a way, Raoul unsuccessfully trying to dispel the feelings that continued to stir in him at her touch. Looking past her station, he knew she would one day make some lucky man a beautiful wife. And if her temperament was any indication, it would never be boring. He hadn't gotten to know her well over the past few days. But her touch reached a part of his heart he thought was lost with Christine. She began to shift in her seat and he thought she was once again getting nervous at the days events. He wanted to help her relax, but had no idea just what would work. Looking back to the scene in her room, he remembered the expression on her face and knew, had he kissed her, she would have reciprocated in kind. Thinking he had nothing to lose, he lifted her chin, bent his head to her and did what he had wanted to do then. He touched his lips to hers, slowly, softly, lingering. When he pulled back from her, she had that same look of desire she'd had after he'd finished lacing her dress.

"Mmmm, yes. Better now? You were quite the spitfire in your room, managing a fairly good lump on my head with the mirror. I'd like to see that girl again, but won't if you don't relax a bit."

Antoinette was a bit shocked that he had kissed her, but couldn't deny that fact that it gave her pleasure. She wasn't sure if she should blush or kiss him again. She regained her composure and decided she would make the most of the opportunity presented. Sitting a bit closer to him, she allowed his solid strength to take her mind off the task at hand, even if for a brief amount of time. They still had some way to go before they reached the checkpoint, and she knew she would be wound tight as a spring if she could not relax at all. And he was very nice to relax against. She only hoped Christine would understand and not be angry with her, or break the friendship they had found in one another.

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Christine had not realized she'd held her breath until the carriage passed through the checkpoint. She sat on the edge of her seat, thinking it had gone much too easily and they would be pursued at any moment. Moving the curtain on her left enough to peek out, she neither heard nor saw anything other than the scenery as they passed. Finally, relaxing against the seat back with a large sigh, she accepted the truth. They had made it without being followed. It was now just a matter of time before she would be in Erik's arms once again, this time never to leave them.

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The Brougham sat secluded in the thick copse of trees, invisible to anyone passing by. The site had been perfect for a rendezvous point; the plan being that Christine's carriage would meet them and Erik would continue on with her, while Claude and Jacques waited for Antoinette. Once they met with her, Claude and Antoinette would continue to Le Raincy in the Coupe. Raoul would await the darkness to return to the city, Jacques squeezing onto the seat with Phillipe. In the dark there would be no reason to question. It seemed to Erik that he had been waiting for days, though it had only been a few hours. He paced the area until Claude took his arm, startling him out of his thoughts.

"Erik, you will wear yourself out before she arrives. And you're making me dizzy in the process. Sit, my friend. She will be here."

"How can you be sure? I should have stayed—"

"Non, Erik, you should not have. Or you would be in prison, and she would be left alone. She will be here. Now, sit."

Erik took a seat next to Claude at the base of a large tree, trying to keep his nervous energy at bay. Claude sat next to him, his head against the tree, eyes closed, looking like he hadn't a care in the world, instead of a man whose daughter might be in as much danger as Christine. He wondered at Claude's ability to remain so calm.

"Claude, I am driving myself mad over my worry for Christine. How can you sit so calmly and wait?"

"Erik, I can do nothing else at this point. I leave it all now in more capable hands and trust that He will bring them safely to us."

Claude had pointed upward as he'd spoken, and Erik knew who he meant. But the thought of a true God, one who really cared, was still such a foreign idea to him. Yes, he had prayed, but with little enthusiasm that what he had asked would be answered. He had always done it from desperation. But he knew they had nothing but time while they waited, and he pondered the things that the God he had asked favor from in desperation, had answered.

They had been sitting quietly for some time, both lost in their own thoughts when Erik suddenly grasped Claude's arm, digging his fingers into the soft flesh. Tilting his head, he heard the sound of an approaching carriage. He released Claude, absently patting him as he got to his feet. Moving to the edge of the copse, he peered in the direction of the sound. Barely in view was a Coupe. His heart leapt with the thought that perhaps things would be all right after all. As the Coupe neared, he could see Jacques in the coachman's seat, whistling a tune with a slight smile on his face. It was all he could do to remain hidden from view lest someone else in the vicinity catch sight of him. Shortly before reaching the copse, Jacques pulled up the team and made as if he were inspecting something with the horses, but Erik and Claude knew he was making sure no one followed him. Seemingly satisfied, he tch'd the horses forward, toward the hidden cut-off and into the area behind the Brougham. Before he could dismount however, Erik wrenched the door open as Christine came tumbling out into his waiting arms.

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"Commander, sir!" The gendarme stood at full salute in the commander's door, eyes alight with excitement.

"What do you want? Who are you? Can't you see I'm busy?" The commander had been in a vile mood for several days since his men had lost track of Raoul. He saw his chance at a promotion fading with each passing day.

"Sir, my name is Officer Alain Dupree and I have news."

"I assumed that, man. Well, spit it out and then be gone! I have other more important things to do than wait for you to say what you came for."

"Sir, one of the men spotted the Vicomte's Victoria heading toward the northeast checkpoint, sir."

The commander jumped to his feet, knocking his chair into the wall behind him. Giving it no heed, he moved swiftly around his desk, advancing on Dupree who still stood in the doorway and now shrank in fear before him. As Dupree began to back away, the commander reached him, grabbing him by the arm and yanking him into the office, slamming the door shut behind them.

"Where? When was he seen? Was he alone? Tell me, man! I must know."

Dupree had opened and closed his mouth several times as the commander barked question after question at him. Finally giving up, he gave the commander a sheepish look and waited for the avalanche of questions to stop. As the commander stopped for a breath, Dupree saw his chance.

"Sir, Thomas saw the carriage about an hour ago, heading toward a checkpoint, with the Vicomte and a woman. They looked, he said, to be out for an afternoon picnic. Nothing more."

"A woman! Dark haired? Petite? Was it the Opera Singer, Daae?"

"No sir, he said this woman had blonde hair, braided down her back, very pretty. It could be the other woman that was with the Daae, but why would a Vicomte be with her? Her father runs an inn, or so she told us."

"Why, indeed? There is more here than meets the eye, and I will find the answers. Never fear."

Dupree watched as the commander went around his desk and rifled through a drawer. When at last he pulled a piece of paper from the desk, he advanced again, shoving the paper under Dupree's nose.

"This is the Daae. I want to know if she has been seen today. If the Vicomte was heading out of the city with her accomplice, then something is definitely underway and I believe I know what that is. They are all attempting some sort of escape. Take this to the northeast checkpoint and find out of the Daae has been seen today. I will be close behind. I must collect a few items before I leave."

Dupree took the line drawing of Christine the commander had held. It was exquisite in its detail and simplicity, beautifully rendered. It was common knowledge the drawing had been found at the opera house though the only indication as to the artist were the two small initials in a flowing script at the bottom left corner. E. D.

Dupree had arrived at the checkpoint a quarter hour before the commander. When he arrived, one look told him the commander was out for blood. He wore a pistol at his side, carried two long rifles across the saddle, and was accompanied by two high ranking officers. He realized this was serious business and hoped the commander would leave him at the checkpoint should he choose to continuethe search. Chasing down a Vicomte with a rifle was the last thing he wanted to be a part of.

"Well, man," the commander barked. "has anyone seen our quarry?"

"Non, commander, sir. The Vicomte passed this way over an hour ago, with the blonde girl, going on a picnic in the countryside. I am told they looked very much like lovers, sir. There was a Coupe that passed through this morning with the DeChangy crest carrying a cousin going to Meaux for a funeral. Other than that, sir, nothing odd."

At that comment, one of the officers who had been about that morning saw his chance and approached the commander.

"Sir, if I may?"

The commander looked him up and down, sneering at the officer's appearance. The man was dirty, disheveled and tired from a long day in the sun and the commander wanted nothing to do with him. But the look in the officer's eyes told the commander he may be wise to listen.

"What is it? Speak up! I haven't got all day."

"Sir," the officer began, loosing a bit of his nerve in the process. The commander was a formidable man when he was angry. "I did see something very odd this morning, sir. There was a Brougham that passed through here early this morning. It was going to Le Raincy to pick up supplies and a new household servant for someone. The driver was traveling light, with no luggage, but as he started forward after questioning, I thought I saw something bounce hard against the tarp covering the luggage area at the back of the carriage. I thought it odd if he should have nothing there." He watched the commander's face, at first, a look of disgust crossing it. But then, the commander's face changed to an evil leer as something close to a smile touched his eyes.

"What time was this? Early this morning, you say? And the papers were in order?"

The officer nodded in the affirmative.

A moment passed before the commander's horse began to prance and circle with the commander's rising excitement.

"We have them! We have them all! They have separated in an attempt to hide their escape. But they cannot hide from me. You. Men. You will remain here. If the Vicomte returns, detain him. My guess is he will return alone. Whatever you do, do not let his rank intimidate you and do not allow him to leave." Turning to the two officers he'd brought with him, he inclined his head in the direction of the open country. "You two will come with me. We will catch them all, one by one if we must, but we will catch them all! And you," he looked menacingly at the Dupree who had remained in the background, "get on your horse. You will come as well. Do not fail in this, any of you, or it will be all your heads!"

With that, the commander shot through the checkpoint gate, the two officers accompanying him, Dupree mounting his horse, a sense of dread filling his soul as he took off after the trio.