Disclaimer: I know this is going to come as a surprise, but I still do not own Phantom of the Opera!
VictorianDream: I love your username, by the way. The Victorian era is just…yay. Thank you so much for pointing out my error, if you hadn't said anything I, not surprisingly, would not have noticed. I sadly read Susan Kay way back in October or November, so the details are fuzzy. Some mean person stole it from my local library so I was never able to recheck it out and read it more carefully. I do, however, have it on pre-order for when it reprints. So, yay Kay! Your words are so encouraging, please, don't stop!
Phruity: Yay OTP! I wrote an extra chapter tonight with you in mind…and, guess what! I don't think I'll show it to you until you publish it. That way, it will be a complete surprise. I know, gasp, right? I love that phrase. 'Raoul/Adelaide Marriage of Doom'. Just yay.
Makeyourselfdou: I've actually never read Rebecca, though, Jane Eyre, is my favourite book in the history of ever. Thank you so much for reviewing!
Misty Breyer: You weren't neglecting me, fear not! Thank you for your compliments, since you're an Authoress I admire so much it truly means a lot!
Sorry, this is a bit short. I had an extremely long chapter for you originally, but last minute I decided to break it into two. So, keep in mind while reading, particularly at the end, there is a chapter that picks up right after this. I also jump point of views in here twice, I hope those times are clear enough to be recognized without actual noted establishment. I've been reading my 'stats' and see quite a few who have this story marked as their favourites, or on alert…which makes me a happy Authoress! Please, do review. Reviews make me very happy and helps me know what is liked and what is not. Ten reviews would absolutely shock, stun and thrill me… Simply: reviews make me post more often, darlings!
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In Italy, and even back in London…I found myself comparing her to Christine. I hated myself for it, but I could not resist. Adelaide was the perfect wife in many aspects, ones husbands only wish their wives could be like…the dream wife they talk about over a glass of brandy at smoking parties. I knew I was the envy of my social circle. Adelaide had only my interests in mind, always asking what she could do for me, or how I was. I tried to be the good husband in return. I was kind to her and showed a great appreciation for her concern and care.
Christine, on the other hand, had been the perfect image of joy. She had always brightened my day no matter how dreary London had been. She would laugh and talk with me at dinner, and I had been a complete romantic back.
With Adelaide, I felt older. Solemn. Perhaps that was her intention. I could never know what she was really thinking. Unlike Christine, she was not one to simply pout, or giggle – anything to give me a hint. With Adelaide it was a like a serious game, I had to try to read every sign and make stabs in the darkness.
Less then two months after Italy, I directed the housemaids, who I had only been in league with two months previously, in packing the entire house. Raoul shipped over half of his…our possessions to Blois ahead of us and left only a few things for us to take with us. We had decided to leave all the furniture, flat ware and dishes to the renters I had interviewed.
Soon after our return to Italy, I began to become severely prone to headaches. Anything and everything would trigger a near migraine, I spent my day in constant fear of somehow putting myself at risk for one. I had decided it must be due to stress I was putting myself under.
Our last few nights in London, I was sleepless with worry. Not only the normal concerns of moving a household – I had dealt with something similarly before. It was the pressure I was already beginning to feel, living with Raoul's relatives. Would they approve of the second wife?
"Adelaide," Raoul's groggy voice interrupted my train of thought on the last evening, "you must get some sleep."
I sat up, partly startled and partly embarrassed. I had most likely been shifting without a considerate thought to the bed's second occupant.
"I'm sorry," I murmured, flattening again and putting my hand to my temples, "I'll stop moving. What time is it?"
He didn't even have to glance at the wall clock, I felt my cheeks burning, knowing that he had already looked at it.
"It's after three. And, it's not the moving that's disturbing me, I'm afraid you're going to be exhausted tomorrow…and you've not been well lately. You have to stay strong, otherwise I will be too concerned to leave you."
"I'm sorry," I murmured again, honestly. I hated the thought of worrying him.
He easily pulled my small waist with his strong arm and slid me next to him. Pushing my hair back, he whispered in my ear, "Calm yourself, darling. Close your eyes and go to sleep."
I no longer flinched at his terms of endearments, and for the first time found his voice soothing and allowed myself to clear my head. My last thought before I succumbed to sleep was, immaturely…he whispered sweet nothings in your ear…
Adelaide was dreadfully ill again early the next morning, which only added to my concerns of going to Corse. She apologized for the delay she had caused, and looked for a reassurance that she had caused none, which I naturally gave her.
She stood in the threshold of our flat, looking every inch the woman of the house, counting the trunks and instructing the maids as to which carriage to place what in and was sure to caution which trunks they needed to be extra careful with.
We rode the short hour out of London in the same carriage together. Adelaide sat quietly, and I could tell she was still silently fighting nausea so I did not bother her by starting a conversation. She kept her hand delicately placed to her mouth and studied the landscape as we went by.
When we arrived in Bath, I let her again direct the dock workers. While I registered our boarding and confirmed our citizenship, making a mental note that I needed to register Adelaide as a dual citizen of France and England upon reaching the French capital. Victoire called out in excitement when our ship pulled up to the dock and quickly ran over to the boarding row. I followed her, laughing at her outburst, but turned around to walk with Adelaide who still seemed faint. She thanked me and gratefully held on to my arm as we boarded, keeping her eyes at her feet.
Once we boarded I finally decided to talk to Adelaide about what had been nagging at my mind. Victoire played quietly with a group of children she had found in the ship's café and I sat myself next to Adelaide who had herself placed to where she could watch her step-daughter from the perfect angle.
"We need to be sure to stop in Paris before going all the way to Blois. I've made a list of what we need to purchase before going to your sisters, and I-"
"Adelaide, do not worry about Paris. I already have a copy of your list and, oh! I have a list of my own," I added in, jokingly.
She smiled weakly, and turned her gaze back to Victoire.
"Are you worried about something?" I wanted to add in 'please answer me honestly,' but I knew that would insult her.
"No, of course not, husband," she answered back without even looking at me.
"Are you sure," I asked again, giving her second chance. "You seem preoccupied."
She nodded.
I paused, giving her a moment. Waiting for her conscience to come in.
"Well," she began, "I am worried, truthfully, about meeting your family."
Not the answer I had expected, but I was glad she had given me some answer besides a head motion.
"You have no reason to be worried…"
She continued, her tone rising. "They might not approve of the second wife-"
"Adelaide! You are not, and have never been only the-"
She had stopped listening to me, I had opened a floodgate.
"I don't even speak French that well…at all! I don't know how to live with them, how am I to spend my days? Do I have responsibilities?"
"Renee does not expect you to do anything, you are not a maid, you are her sister-in-law, I don't understand why you-"
"And," she added, her voice rising still yet, "I don't even know how long you will be gone. I'll be in a foreign country, unable to speak the language, and with a sister-in-law that will see me only as a…"
With that she rose and walked quickly out the open French doors on to the deck, grasping the railing for support.
I glanced over at Victoire, knowing she could not leave this room without passing through the same doors, I went to my wife.
I touched her shoulders gently, hoping she would turn around and fall into my embrace as Christine would have.
Instead she shrugged my hand away. "Oh, do leave. I don't want to be petted," she said, I knew more harshly then she had met.
It still frustrated me that she would not just say what she meant.
As she asked, I left her standing there, greeting the French shoreline alone. Reminding me, somehow, of how I had left Christine in the sitting room one afternoon.
We landed in Calais, and Adelaide was forced to find me in the café again so we could leave together. My pride would not let me go find her myself, and I knew it was hurting her own.
She looked for my hand again while walking down the steep stairs to the solid ground, but I did not offer it. Again, that pride would not let her ask for it. That having been only her second time on a ship, I watched as she stumbled slightly, adjusting to the still ground.
I walked ahead, I recognized my sister's carriages she had send forward in the distance. Victoire chatted on and on about her various adventures with the friends she had made on the short trip.
"Madame," began an alarmed man in French, who was assisting us with our trunks, "are you alright there?"
I turned around and saw Adelaide standing still, her face void of any colour. Immediately, I felt terrible for ignoring her and in three strides was at her side.
"You're fine, come on now," I said, trying to force optimism in my voice, as I would with a child after it had fallen to keep them from crying. I held her tightly by the forearm and guided her the rest of the way.
Right after I sat her down in the carriage, it was as if she had remembered what we were doing and tried to get up again to direct the trunks again. I used the authority of a husband and told her to remain seated. Meek again, she settled and a few minutes later we began our departure.
