Chapter 54 Reunion

Jade stood amid the ropes that dangled from the blackness above, and watched Erik crawl along the cavern wall. As he lit the hanging lanterns, the expanding glow lit up the dank darkness so that she could see a couple dozen feet overhead.

She tugged on the rope's thick hemp. The timber it was attached to held firm.

Erik strode to her side, and nodded for her to begin. Clasping the rope with her breech clad legs, she clambered several feet above his head.

"Higher," his voice echoed. Straining, she pulled herself up another ten feet before descending.

"Good. Now rest," he said tersely. Grabbing a rope, he snaked up it at an astonishing pace, and disappeared into the overhead darkness. The rope violently swayed, and the adjacent one jerked next to it. A moment later, Erik spiraled down.

He stepped lightly towards her with the agility of a trained acrobat. Unconsciously, she leaned towards his graceful, well muscled figure, and then caught herself. Biting her lip, she turned to the rope.

They spent the next hour climbing. When they were finished, Jade was soaked in sweat.

The slick sound of the paddle dipping into the water lazed through her nerves as they floated home. She was enjoying the blissful feel of tired muscles. For the first time, the exercise session hadn't exhausted her. Instead, there was a humming energy coursing through her body.

Earlier that week Erik had brought her to the ropes, and demonstrated how to climb. After curiously looking at that strange arrangement, she had stared at him.

"Why do you want me to do this?" she challenged.

A rope lay across his hands, its thick tendril caressing his calloused palms. Suddenly, she remembered Pierre's account of the Opera Ghost hanging a man in the middle of an opera performance. Goose bumps pricked her arms. She stared at the rope as if it were a snake.

His silky voice cut through her tension. "It will alleviate the melancholy and exercise your arms, my dear." Then he cocked his left eyebrow as if to say, "It is no more challenging than taking a stroll along the Seine".

Sighing, Jade tucked the rope between her legs, and awkwardly inched up it.

Tonight as they traveled through the black cavern, for the first time since the miscarriage her senses were clear. The melancholy had lifted, and she was actually looking forward to her evening meal. It was Saturday night, and she planned to meet with Jean and Manette for a late supper.

After her bath, she donned a cream colored bodice embroidered with pearls. Her green and beige striped skirt hugged her hips and suggestively caressed her thighs. Its fabric was tucked in places to give it a stylish flare. Erik had designed it for tonight's supper at Paris's chic and popular Le Grande Café. When he'd slid the box into her hands, his eyes had said, "You will wear this. Do not argue with me."

He'd been doing that for the last ten days—tending to her every need and leading her around like a pet lamb. The regimen of regular exercise in fresh air and mandatory meals that he'd begun before the unmasking had continued, as he hovered close, and made certain that she obeyed.

At night he would undress her, and tuck her into bed like a child, then read to her until she fell asleep. His rich voice soothed as he played the solicitous guardian.

For her part, she was content with their current relationship. It was sexless, but comfortable, exactly what she needed. Her body was healing from the trauma of the miscarriage while her mind recovered from the shock of seeing his face.

If Erik had come to her, carried her to his bed, and asked for his husbandly rights, Jade would have accepted his attentions. But she was relieved that he hadn't. Although she was slowly growing accustomed to what lay beneath the mask, she was incapable of absolutely controlling her face. If he bedded her, she feared he would see her new found pity for him.

He would despise it.

Entering the front room, she found Erik seated at his work table. One of the little mechanical devices that he occasionally designed was before him, its miniscule parts cached on a sheet of double elephant architect's paper. Eagerly, she approached him. His inventions always fascinated her.

As she stood silently at his side, he absently reached up and caressed her for a moment while his gaze remained fixed on the shiny cogs and pins.

"What is it for?" She asked with a touch of reverence.

"Hmmm?" he replied softly as if she were more of an afterthought than a presence. Settling into his previous concentration, he forgot she was there.

While sipping herbal tea, she watched him work. He was crouched over the table, and delicately handling the tiny parts with complete absorption. His handsome, still face had a slight frown that caused a little flutter in her stomach.

He's been very quiet lately. They hadn't said much to each other since the unmasking. Over the course of the week, Erik had been in a deep reverie—distantly meditative as if observing a novena.

Perhaps he grieves as I do.

Hours later, they passed through the iron-gate. Erik placed his arm around her waist and ushered her to a carriage that waited under the spotlight of a full moon at the top of the narrow street. When she was seated within, Jade's eyes met his.

What if he were to come with me tonight? It was a bold idea. A thrill ran through her as she pictured him taking his rightful place at her side.The thought of his power and grace as he moved among average men stirred her, and she impulsively opened her mouth to coax him into the carriage.

Before she could speak, he took her hand and peeled back the edge of the black cotton glove, exposing her inner wrist. Sensuously, his lips stroked the translucent skin that sheathed the pulsing blood. Then he raised his head and looked into her eyes. She held her breath.

"Be careful, my little wife," he said in a low voice. Then turning, he was gone.

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Le Grande Café was situated in the center of Paris on the Boulevard des Capucines with a clear view of the Opéra Populaire from its doors. A small crowd gathered near its brightly lit entrance. When Jade's carriage pulled up, it was half past eleven. Standing amid the heavy foot traffic on the sidewalk, she scanned the carriages beneath the streetlamps across the boulevard. After a moment, she found Manette's face peering out from one. Stepping off the curb, she worked her way past the horses and carriages to her friend.

"Jade!" Manette cried. It was the first they'd seen each other since Jade's accident.

After helping her friend out of the carriage, she embraced Manette.

"You look well," Manette declared with shining eyes. Jade smiled and gently patted her shoulder.

Manette carefully smoothed her hair, and pushed a decorative comb further into the brown mass as she gave her friend a broad smile. Her gold skirt peeped beneath the dark cloak that hid her spreading figure. "I know I should be in bed nursing my ankles but I could not pass up the opportunity to dine here!"

In spite of the late hour, the restaurant was filled to capacity. It had opened earlier that year, and had become a tremendous success with the Parisian café crowd.

When then host spied Manette, he stiffened and coolly looked over the glasses perched on his long nose. With an impatient gesture, he signaled a tall man on the other side of the room. Moments later, Manette was seated in an upholstered chair as they waited for their table, and for Jean to arrive.

The large room was packed with black suits, stylish coifs, and mounds of satin trains. Gaslights blazed from elegantly detailed, brass fittings, and the thick, figured carpet muffled the brisk steps of waiters carrying food to the tables. A swell of voices swept the room, flooding its corners with the emphatic comments of political pundits.

Manette sat there, absorbing the activity, and beaming. Jade affectionately pressed her friend's shoulder, and glanced at her large belly that was covered by her cloak. She looks well. She was a little concerned that all this excitement would tire her friend.

Jade was examining the rich wooden accents of the room, when she saw Raoul and Christine de Chagny coming through the door. Her jaw dropped.

Of course, she thought wryly.

Raoul noticed her. After speaking to Christine, the two approached.

"Mme Marsolais, it is pleasure to see you again," he said warmly. Christine was at his side wearing a charming smile.

After their visit at the holiday party in December, Jade had received an invitation to visit the de Chagnys at their home. It had arrived at the beginning of her mourning over Gillian's death, when she'd still had the mental resources to decline. After her wedding, she'd sent them a courtesy note informing them of her new marital status.

"It is a pleasure to see you both again," she replied smoothly. Turning to Manette, she said, "Mme Dubois, may I present to you the Vicomte and Vicomtesse de Chagny.

Raoul took Manette's hand and kissed it briefly. Then he gazed at the two women with bright eyes.

"We have reservations for five but our friends will not be joining us," Raoul explained. "It would give us great pleasure if you would dine with us tonight."

Jade shot a look through the restaurant's window to the street beyond. It was a small miracle that Erik had allowed her out this evening without supervision. There was the possibility that he had followed her, and seen the de Chagnys enter the restaurant.

To sup with Raoul and Christine was to play with fire.

Her eyes met Christine's, and she suddenly realized that she badly wanted to know about Erik and his diva. Ever since she'd met him, Jade had been traveling a twisted path in her dealings with others as she'd tried to protect him and honor his requests. Somewhere in that process, her bolder self, the part of her that was intensely curious and unafraid to take risks, had been shelved. With it had gone the opportunity to learn about her husband's past.

Manette was eagerly looking up at her, obviously delighted at the prospect of dining with this agreeable young couple. Immediately, Jade made up her mind.

"That is very kind of you. We would love to join you," she replied.

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"Will you and M Marsolais be leaving Paris for the summer?" Raoul asked as he cut his fillet of beef.

"No. We plan to stay here."

Gazing at Raoul, Jade couldn't help but compare the perfect contours of his face to those of Erik's.

Did Christine see Erik's face before the night that the opera house burned? She was still trying to understand how it had happened that Erik had lost Christine's love when he'd so skillfully won hers.

She caught Christine's eye, and smiled at her. Christine's face lit up, and then she turned her radiant gaze to Manette who was telling her about her work with the Opéra Populaire's ballet corps.

She's lonely, Jade surmised as she noticed how readily Christine was responding to Manette's attentions. From opera diva to vicomtesse.

To her right, Jean was twisting in his seat as he listened to the conversations that surrounded their table. The pungent scent of politics was heavy in the air.

"Will you be returning to the Opéra before we disband for summer?" Jean asked Jade as he forked a saucy bite of crepe into his mouth.

Manette turned from Christine and intently watched her friend.

"Will I still be of use to you?" Jade replied cautiously as she feigned interest in her half eaten duck. She hadn't spoken with Erik about the matter. There was a good chance that he would refuse her request.

Jean studied her for a moment and nodded. "If you'd prefer, we can continue our work at another place. I've just acquired a studio, and there's room for you there."

"How wonderful for you!" she exclaimed, and then reached over and squeezed his arm.

"You are painting?" Raoul asked.

She shook her head. "No. I need to learn to draw first."

"She's started to sketch, and she has a good eye," Jean said as he fondly gazed at her. "The next step is to work with a model."

"Our summer home has lovely ponds. Several of Raoul's younger cousins have painted them. " Christine added.

"Yes." Raoul chimed in with enthusiasm. "You and M Marsolais are welcome to visit with us. Our ponds rival the ones at the Tuileries. It is a pleasant change from Paris."

"You are very kind," Jade replied. As she eyed the elegant couple, she imagined traipsing through the countryside with an easel. It was a very tempting offer.

Glancing at Jean, she noticed the smug smile that was growing on his face. All night he had reigned in his impish side but that familiar twinkle was back in his eyes.

With a pugnacious air, he turned to Raoul. "M de Chagny, have you an opinion concerning the paintings of Edouard Manet?"

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After their meal, they lingered over coffee and discussed the arts.

A half hour later, Jade rode back to the opera house. She was considering Raoul and Christine's invitation to visit them in Paris before they left for the summer. It might be her last chance to spend time with Christine and learn about her ties to Erik.

If I'm to understand Erik, I should know his history.

She'd spent the last fifteen minutes arguing with herself over whether it was necessary to search out his past. In spite of that deficit, they'd managed to form a friendship and a marriage.

Nonetheless, theirs had been a relationship fraught with misunderstandings, at least on her part.

If I visit the de Chagnys, I will be deceiving him.

It wouldn't be easy to accomplish such a subterfuge. Erik was too bright to be fooled for long. Still, something inside of her would not let the idea go in spite of the risk.

Of course, the most rational approach would be for her to simply ask Erik about his past. However, there was a catch. Once she opened that avenue of discussion, he would probably wish to know about hers as well.

She had a secret that she couldn't reveal, even to him.

Stepping from the carriage, Jade looked down the narrow street that ran beside the opera house. Blue moonlight edged the black shadow that hid the side of the building. While she listened to the clatter of departing hooves, Erik glided from the darkness.

As he drew near, it came to her that no matter what she learned of his past, she would probably never fully understand him.

Firmly, he took her hand, and led her back to their home.

It was late, and Jade was tired. Sitting on the edge of her bed, she watched Erik's bent head as he unbuttoned her skirt. Undressing her had become a nightly ritual for him.

Gently, he slid the bodice off. She shivered a little when his finger tips lightly brushed her skin as he painstakingly arranged the nightgown around her shoulders. Then he swept the hair from her face and gazed at her for a moment. With large eyes, she gazed back, wondering if it would be tonight that he would come for her. She knew how it would be. He would carry her to his room while she slept, and she'd awaken in his arms when he kissed her. The memory of him passionately holding her close gave her goose bumps.

After she was settled in bed, Erik pulled out a book and began to read. The hypnotic rise and fall of his voice soothed her desire, and soon she fell asleep.

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The next day, they were seated in a small, dingy shop illuminated by two small lamps.

Erik was in the corner, watching as the Chinaman hovered next to Jade. The black silk costume the man wore swished as he moved with quick, brusque motions. From beneath his tight silk cap hung a long pigtail that fell to his waist.

"Put tongue out," the little man demanded with a heavy accent. Jade's eyes narrowed slightly as she regarded his expressionless face. Then she complied. When he'd finished studying that quivering muscle to his satisfaction, he grasped her wrist. Placing his fingers tips on its inner aspect, he repeatedly pressed and released the flesh beneath his digits until her hand tingled. Then he did the same to the other one.

"Lay," he commanded as he pointed to the padded table. Jade stretched out, and watched him with glittering eyes.

After he unfurled the roll of purple velvet on a nearby small table, he turned to her. The light glinted off the array of needles that he held. Startled, Jade nearly hopped off of the table, but was thwarted by Erik who was suddenly at her side, and gently restraining her.

"There is nothing to fear, my dear," he murmured into her ear. "It will only hurt a little, and you will feel better afterwards."

With wide eyes, Jade stared intensely at her husband. Then she sighed, closed them, and lay very still while Erik gently stroked her brow. There was the sudden prick of metal entering the bare flesh of her arms and legs, and then a dull ache. Heaviness followed and her limbs became leaden.

Eventually that sensation was transformed into a lightness that drifted throughout her body. Instead of feeling firmly planted to the table, she began to float. Opening her eyes, she stared up at the shadowy ceiling as she listened to the voices coming from the next room. Erik was speaking to the man with strange words and a sing song intonation. How beautiful! she thought as a giggle rose from her throat.

She rode the bliss and lost all sense of time until the strange man returned, and withdrew the needles. They were alone in the room. Sitting up, she put on her stockings while he silently watched her. If he were a gentleman, he would give me my privacy. But the irritation that she would have normally felt towards him was absent, replaced by a sense of peace.

When she finished dressing, he stood there scrutinizing her. Jade curiously returned his stare.

"You dog," he finally quipped.

Stunned, she struggled to comprehend why this yellow faced man was suddenly insulting her.

Pointing to the other room, he continued. "He tiger." Briefly, he rubbed his hands together as if expressing satisfaction.

"Dog good for tiger. You good wife," he finished. Then he turned and left the room.

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Later, in the carriage ride home, Jade sat next to Erik as he held her hand. His long, pale fingers were warm on that bright April day.

She was in a profound, dream-like state that mere fatigue could not fully account for. Normally she would have remained silent, but the curious happenings of that afternoon needed an explanation.

"He called me a dog," she said to the carriage wall.

Erik shook a little as he chuckled. "And he told you that I am a tiger?" he replied.

"Yes. He also said that dogs are good for tigers and that I am a good wife."

"Indeed," he stated as his fingers began to sensuously stroke her wrist. "He was speaking of Chinese astrology, my dear. He believes that when a person is born in a certain year, they have particular characteristics. You were born in the year of the dog and I in the year of the tiger."

"What did he do to me, Erik?"

His fingers ran up her neck and followed the line of her jaw. This was the closest they had been physically since the night before her accident.

"It is an ancient method of healing. The needles release blocked physiological processes that are the result of injury to the body."

And perhaps to the heart as well, Jade mused. The sorrow that had plagued her had lifted.

Leaning against him, she shut her eyes and allowed the fatigue to claim her.

When they were back in their home, she went directly to bed.

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Hours later, Jade awoke feeling wonderful.

There'd been dreams of clouds, and sky, in which she swooped above the earth while searching for something. Losing herself in the sensations of wind and dizzying heights, she finally settled to earth, with a feeling of completeness.

It was seven o'clock in the evening. Slipping into a silk nightgown, she heard the faintest sound of music.

Erik was seated at the organ, softly playing. She stood in the kitchen door, and marveled at the delicacy of the strain, as if it was the product of a tiny instrument rather than that of the pipe organ. Her nightgown swished as she took a step towards him. The white mask was tinged with a rose, reflected from his blood red, silk robe.

A tiger, she thought, a little bemused. She had seen pictures of that great beast, and the label suited him.

She was still feeling the effects of the Chinaman's treatment, and felt light enough to walk on water.

After gazing at Erik for a long moment, Jade turned and went to his bedroom. It was ready for bedtime with a scant half dozen candles burning. She blew them out, and removed her robe and nightgown. Sliding between the cool satin sheets, Jade stared at the dim hallway light while listening to the soft refrain. The enormous bed made her feel tiny.

She was nearly asleep when the music stopped, and Erik entered the room, so she didn't notice him. Without warning, his warm skin was against hers as he took her into his arms. Sighing, she snuggled close to his chest and rubbed her belly against his.

His whistling breath told his excitement. Half awake, she reached down and found his engorged member which she lightly stroked. After a few moments of playing with him, she fully awoke, and noticed that there was something different. Instead of naked flesh, his organ was encased in a thick, tight skin. Curious, she tugged and squeezed him until he groaned.

"What is this?"

"Protection," he replied hoarsely. "It is to prevent you from becoming pregnant until your body is fully healed."

Smiling at his thoughtfulness she gave him an extra squeeze and chuckled briefly when air hissed between his teeth. Releasing him, she firmly pushed him onto his back.

Something strange was moving inside of her, an intense need. It had always been Erik who had initiated their sexual activities, but tonight she couldn't wait.

He will think I'm a wanton, flashed through her mind as she crawled on top of him and straddled his waist. But the darkness hid her and for once she didn't care. After a minute of rubbing her sensitive parts against his pelvis, he responded with a bucking motion as if he could capture her cleft in that position. Laughing softly, she bent over and kissed him deeply to quiet his struggle. His mouth opened and their tongues met. Moaning, she continued to rub against him and enjoyed the slickness that resulted from her determined friction.

Erik grabbed her breasts and squeezed. The slight pain was delicious and she rubbed harder, panting. He was strangely passive beneath her, which allowed her to move freely. His well placed touching was egging her on to bolder actions. I'm behaving like a whore. It was as if her sense of propriety had been ripped from her as she desperately sought pleasure from him. Meanwhile, his fingers roamed across her, pinching and twisting bits of flesh which heightened her urge.

She was close to her release and he hadn't even entered her. Stopping, she slid off and lay next to him, breathing hard. "Come inside of me," she whispered.

"Do you want me, Jade?" His voice was warm honey melding with her senses as he fondled her.

"Yes. Erik, please," she gasped as his fingers stroked her wetness.

Positioning himself over her, he entered her hard and fast, and she squeaked from the impact. Gone was the gentle lover. He took her roughly, using her as she had earlier used him. Then he changed his rhythm. Scooping her butt up with one hand, he guided her hips into a grinding motion which matched his. It maddened her, and she grasped his back and raked her nails along it. Crying out, he growled and moved faster.

Her release was violent. She was thrown back into a dream, tumbling through space with Erik deep inside of her. In the distance he was calling to her, forcing her to come back to him. Careening back to earth, she gasped and clung to him with her legs wrapped around his hips and her nails dug into his back. If she could have reached him she would have bitten him as well.

When they finished, he clasped her to his chest, and buried her face into his neck as he fiercely exhaled. He held her so tightly that she could scarcely breathe.

A moment later, she squirmed from his grasp, and inhaled deeply. It felt wonderful to be alive!

Staring down at him, she stroked his chest, and gazed at the mask which was the thinnest gray in that dim light. She had grown to love that piece of leather. But now it was in the way, hiding him from her.

I want him naked, just as I was naked before him tonight.

Slowly, she reached for it.

Erik caught her hand and brought it to his lips. Then gathering her into his arms, he turned her away from him and held her from behind.

Sighing, Jade stared into the darkness until the even rhythm of his breathing lulled her to sleep.

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A/N: M rating

A historical note: Le Grand Café opened in Paris in 1875. It still exists.

Dear readers, my desktop died three weeks ago, and I've been sharing a laptop. It's slowed me down a bit. However, I will continue to update this story.