Chapter 22
They rose early in the morning, sharing a breakfast of biscuits and hot tea provided by the mistress of the farm. Erik had given Claude a handful of coins to pass on to the owner of the farm in exchange for the shelter they provided. They had not expected breakfast but welcomed it. Erik took the opportunity to watch Raoul as he interacted with Antoinette. It seemed that Raoul had taken it upon himself to watch over Antoinette and to Erik's way of thinking, if Raoul was willing to watch over someone else, that released him from any responsibility concerning the boy. Antoinette however, was still very much under Erik's charge so he kept a wary eye on the pair. He didn't need Antoinette getting hurt, emotionally or otherwise. Christine sat next to him, the same slight smile on her face she'd worn the night before. She also took in Raoul and Antoinette, but Erik could tell she seemed delighted with the prospect. Sighing, he set the remains of his breakfast aside and stood, ready to face what he hoped would be their last day of running.
"We must prepare to leave. Again, we must space ourselves. People returning to the city would probably hear of our escape and would remember a large group traveling together." Claude nodded and rose along with Jacques and Phillipe, accepting Erik's instructions without question. Raoul looked up from his conversation with Antoinette.
"Surely we can afford a bit of risk now. We're a day out of the city. By the time anyone gets back to Paris and puts everything together, we will be far enough away— "
"We, Raoul? What 'we'? You're no longer required to accompany us. Just leave us one carriage and we'll be fine." He watched Raoul's face, waiting for the telltale sign he was sure was coming, and was handsomely rewarded. Raoul looked aghast at Erik, his glance quickly shifting to Antoinette before rounding back on Erik, eyes ablaze. Though he gave no outward sign, Erik was pleased with Raoul's reaction. Christine had been correct and it gave Erik a small measure of triumph. Perhaps Raoul's focus had shifted after all.
"Erik, I already told you— "
"Yes, you did, Raoul. And I told you, we can get along without your help now."
"Then I shall remove my carriages from your hands and you will be forced to find alternate transportation."
"Well, Vicomte—" But before he could go farther, he felt Christine's hand upon his arm. He looked to her and saw her look of disdain. Placing his hand over hers, he smiled mischievously at her and then turned back to Raoul. "I suppose, for the sake of everyone else, I can allow you to continue with us…for now." Raoul glared at him and he returned it with a sly smile. He caught Antoinette's look of amusement from the corner of his eye and could no longer contain his smirk. "All right, Antoinette, I'll stop. It's just so simple…" Raoul looked between Antoinette and him, then to Christine and back to Antoinette and realized he'd been made sport of. Rising from the ground, he walked out of the barn in a huff, leaving them all staring after him.
"Erik, you can be impossible!" Antoinette chided him as she went off after Raoul.
"She's right, but then, you know that, don't you?" He looked at Christine and saw the mirth in her own eyes. "It is just so easy to provoke him, Christine. So easy."
Antoinette found him out by the Victoria, yanking on straps and pushing on things. She approached him cautiously. When she was within speaking distance, she stopped to take in this Vicomte, this man, who was so busy beating up their transportation. She wondered what angered him more. Being made sport of by Erik, or being made sport of in front of her, or Christine. She hoped it was his concern for her opinion that drove him to his restless ministrations.
"Raoul, it's Erik's way. He baits you to see your reaction."
"Well, I don't appreciate it, Antoinette. I'm a Vicomte, for God's sake! How dare he?" He turned his back on her and continued pushing here and there. She walked to him and placed her hand on his back.
"Raoul, it doesn't change my opinion of you, if that's your concern." She watched as he turned to her, a look of surprise on his face. For a moment, she thought he would laugh at her and wondered what she was thinking to make her say that. He was right, after all. Why should her opinion of a Vicomte matter at all? She held her breath as he reached for her hand, lifting it to his lips and kissing her fingers. Instead of releasing her, he pulled her to him wrapping his arms around her and kissing her soundly.
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Christine rested her head on Erik's shoulder, thinking about their life to come. He promised they would visit the little church in Le Raincy first thing and speak to the priest about a small marriage ceremony. Claude and Antoinette could be their witnesses, that was not a problem. The problem was what the priest would think when he saw Erik. Would he overlook the mask? Or would he refuse to marry them? She was well aware how much this would cost Erik. His life had been sheltered for so long now, contact with the outside world all but null except for those times when he would visit with Claude for items he needed. This, this would cost him dearly, to face a priest. Would the man be kind, or would he view Erik as the monster everyone thought his mask to make him? She prayed it was the former, she couldn't imagine what the latter would do to him. She felt Erik hug her tighter and wondered if he shared her thoughts.
"Christine, something troubles you now. Is it Raoul?" She could see the fear in his eyes and knew, until they were married, he would carry that bit of uncertainty with him.
"No, my love. I am happy for him. Truly I am. I think, knowing Antoinette's personality, she will be exactly what he needs. And who knows? No, I am concerned about the church in Le Raincy."
"What is there to be concerned with? It is a church, there will be a priest. I can ask him to perform our ceremony. Then we will be one and nothing will ever break that bond."
"The bond has been set for some time, my love and will never break. That is not what troubles me. I am concerned that— Oh, Erik, what if the priest won't marry us? What if—"
"Christine. Claude knows this priest well and informs me that he is a just and honest man who sees things as they really are. He will see how much I love you and there will be no other questions. I am certain of that."
She could see the conviction he attempted to portray, but could also hear the underlying tension in his words and knew, he too worried as to how he would be received by the priest. She placed her hand on his chest and could feel his heartbeat through her fingertips. Reaching up, she kissed him on the cheek, before she lay her head upon his shoulder again.
"I trust you to be right, Erik." And with that, they fell into a comfortable silence.
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The commander had risen at first light, shouting orders at his sleeping men. With no time to waste, they must make haste or lose the group to any one of a dozen side roads. Though the name Le Raincy had come up, the commander had no guarantee that they were, in fact, going there at all. The men had brought nothing to eat with them and when they asked if they could hunt some breakfast, the commander glared at them, as if it was the stupidest question asked of him yet.
"You don't need food! We'll stop later, as soon as I know we've caught their trail. If they are heading for Le Raincy, then we can commandeer provisions from one of the farms along the way. Right now, we have no time for anything but the hunt of my prey."
The three men exchanged a wary glance at the way the commander had shouted of 'his prey'. Dupree listened as one of the gendarme mumbled under his breath that the 'prey' in question was probably long gone and he'd rather be home in bed with his wife than on a fool's errand. Thankfully, the commander was out of earshot and the man's remark went unheard. As maniacal as the commander had become, Dupree was afraid he would perceive the comment as treason. Dupree decided bringing up the rear of their little search party was the wisest move he would make that day.
They had traveled for half the day when they came upon a small farmhouse. The water in their standard canteens had run out hours before and they still had not eaten. The commander took a good look at the farm and decided this was as good a place as any to stop. His men needed nourishment and so did he. Dismounting, he handed the reins to one of the men and went to the door, pounding on it with a closed fist. He could hear nothing on the other side and raised his fist once again when the door cracked open and a woman's face, weathered and old peered out at him.
"Madame, I am with the Paris police. We are in search of a group who left the city illegally. We have been traveling since yesterday and need refreshment. The police will reimburse you, but we need food now." He watched her eyes as he'd mentioned the Vicomte and his group. It seemed as if she had drawn a shade over them, putting him on his guard.
"Wait here, monsieur, and I will bring bread and cheese to you."
"And do you have someplace we can fill our canteens?"
"Oui, monsieur, around the side of the house is a cistern. You can fill them there."
The commander told one of the men to gather the canteens and go around to fill them while he scouted around the rest of the house. He saw a large barn some distance from the house and he headed in that direction when he heard a man call out.
"Monsieur. We have your food, and I have brought a bottle of wine as well. Please sit here and eat. We can bring more if this is not sufficient."
The commander stopped, though his instinct told him he should continue. But his stomach complained and so he turned back to the front of the house, to eat his fill along with his men.
He watched the old man flit around them as they ate, looking somewhat nervous, and began to wonder why. While the old man was occupied with one of the men, he spoke to Dupree in a whisper, telling him to distract the old man, while he stepped around the back of the house. He didn't care for the look on Dupree's face, but knew the man would do his job. Rising and brushing his pant legs off, he ambled toward the barn. The farmer immediately began to follow asking if he could do any more for the commander. Dupree must have known this was his cue as he too rose, asking the farmer for some more wine and bread. The commander watched as the farmer looked from one to the other, before entering the house. The commander took his opportunity and hurried to the barn, looking for sign of anything that might show the group had been there. He always trusted his instinct and this time was no different. The ground in front of the barn door had been swept. Following the marks to the edge of the property, he finally found what he was looking for. Wheel marks. Three different distinct patterns leading in the direction of Le Raincy. He had them now. Returning to the house, he could see one of his men holding on to the old man as the old man struggled to get free.
"How many were there and where were they heading?" the commander shouted at the man, who had now been joined by his wife. "Answer me! I asked you a question. Or shall I use force to get what I want?" At this, the woman's face blanched white and Dupree felt very sorry for her. They were old, not in the best of health he could tell, and he knew well the commander's ruthless method of extracting the information he desired. Dupree could not help the couple, so he stood in the background, hoping the commander would not include him in anything horrible. None of this sat well with him and he did not want to have to choose. As he watched, the commander became angrier and angrier until his face flamed red and his eye bulged. He lifted his hand to strike the old woman when one of the gendarmes stepped in and grasped the commander's arm.
"Sir, excuse me, but beating them will not give you the answers you seek." The commander glared at the gendarme, his mouth hanging open, his face mottled. Dupree held his breath, waiting for the storm to explode. Surprisingly, the commander removed his arm from the officer's grasp, smoothed the front of his uniform and walked to his horse. Untying the reins, he mounted and turned to the group in front of him.
"You— ", he said to the officer who had stopped him, "You will stay here and get any information you can from these two. You, will stay as well." This was said to the other officer. This did not bode well at all and Dupree had a good idea where this was going.
"I know they went through here. I am quite certain they are on the way to Le Raincy after all. I will catch them. Dupree, you will ride with me. You two, any information you gain you bring to me at once. Tie them and leave them here when you follow. I shall expect you to catch us shortly." With that he turned his horse and started toward Le Raincy. Dupree heaved a great sigh as he mounted his own steed, turning his head to follow the commander, hoping the outcome would not result in someone's death. His own.
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They made Le Raincy in good time. Erik's carriage arrived at the outskirts of town just as dusk slipped over the town. Within a half hour, the group would converge at the local inn. He had instructed Claude to find suitable lodging there, and then to fetch dinner and the priest, in that order. He would not put off one more minute, what he'd waited a lifetime to do. Fortunately, the innkeeper's wife offered a decent menu. They ordered dinner and went to their respective rooms to refresh themselves before eating.
Erik sat on the edge of the bed and looked around the room. Small though clean, it was not what he had envisioned for his wedding night with Christine. A simple four poster with patchwork quilts, an armoire, a washstand with ewer and basin. Not the opulence of his former home. Not the beautiful mahogany bed he had built, not the velvet quilts, the Aubusson rugs that covered his floors. Only one candle on the little table next to the bed. But he knew the room did not matter and hoped by this time tomorrow night, they would share this bed in a union he knew would last a lifetime. He spent a moment with his thoughts before rising and going to the washstand. As he poured water into the basin, he looked up, catching his reflection in the mirror that hung above it. He set the ewer to the side and, raising his right hand, touched the mask that had been so much a part of him for most of his life. Gently, he reached underneath the edge and removed it, still watching his reflection, trying to imagine what Christine really saw when she looked upon him. He touched the marred skin, the drooping eye, and his half bald scalp always hidden underneath a mask that had shielded not the world from him, but in reality, shielded him from the world and its injustices. Now, he would face that world with new strength provided by Christine's love and unconditional acceptance. Scooping the cool water into his palms, he splashed his face, cleaning as best he could. He held the towel against his face for some time, making sure the skin was completely dry before donning his mask once again. Raising it to his face he thought, Another day or two my friend, and our time together will be almost non-existent. As he pressed the mask to his face, he heard a knock on the door.
"Erik." It was Claude's voice on the other side. "Dinner is ready. And I have news." But Erik couldn't tell from Claude's statement if it was welcomed news or a death knell.