From this chapter you would probably think I didn't like Christine, but I swear she's one of my favorite fictional characters!
Chapter 8: The Dancer and the Vicomtesse
[featuring "Christine's Evil Side"]
Christine was settling into her role as lady of the house, and Erik did nothing to stop her, which was all the encouragement she needed to fully insert herself into the daily life of Mazandaran. Meg kept a careful eye on the couple in hope of catching them in an act of impropriety, but Erik and Christine were either morally incorruptible or very sneaky. She sat in the window seat on the landing of the grand foyer staircase and peered through the latticed window into the atrium garden below. Erik and Christine were sitting on a bench in the shade of a potted tree while Ayesha strutted around the basin of the fountain. Meg couldn't comprehend their whispered speech, but Christine was cosying up a little too closely to the man beside her. Meg felt a stab of jealousy when she saw Erik's golden eyes fixed firmly on Christine, but the spying woman was certain the couple was about to make a slip up in their restrained passion.
Christine stood up and coyly brushed a finger against Erik's unmasked cheek. He smiled as he savoured her touch and reached for her hand when she tried to walk away. They whispered more to each other and shared a giggle before Christine disappeared from view. Meg sat poised, ready to attack as her ex-best friend entered the foyer and ascended the staircase without the slightest acknowledgement towards Meg in the window seat.
"You snake! You absolute snake!" shouted Meg. Christine paused at the top of the staircase and spun on her heels.
"Excuse me? What did you say?" she spat.
"You're a snake! You already have a husband and you're trying to steal the only man I've ever loved!" replied Meg. Christine pursed her lips before they curved into a sly smirk.
"Hah! I can't steal what was mine to begin with!" Christine turned around with her nose in the air and strode in the direction of her bedroom. Meg glared at her. Everyone thought Christine was so perfect and sweet. Little did they know, she had a hidden cunning. Meg stood from the window seat and took off after Christine.
"I'm sure your husband would love to hear you say that!" Meg sneered sarcastically.
"Say what?" replied Christine without stopping or turning around.
"That Erik's yours."
"Well, he is mine, isn't he? Let's not be ridiculous, Meg. He wasn't pining after you for ten years and long before then too." Christine threw another smirk over her shoulder.
"Well...what if Raoul heard you and Erik take an awful lot of unchaperoned walks in the garden?"
"I don't know what you are trying to insinuate," said Christine calmly, but there was a waver in her voice.
"I'll make it more clear," Meg said snidely. "What if I told him you and Erik were witnessed partaking in overly passionate behavior in the garden pavilion?"
Christine gasped and spun around. "That is simply untrue!" she shrieked. "You have no proof!"
"Let's not be ridiculous," mocked Meg. "I don't need proof. After the latest epiphany about Gustave's parentage, I think it's pretty clear Raoul no longer trusts you. It would be your word against mine."
"Are you blackmailing me?" Christine scoffed. Meg only smirked. "What do you want?" Christine snapped.
"I want you out," said Meg plainly. "I want you to tell Raoul to come and bring you back to Paris."
"Fine. I'll write him a letter when I have the time." Christine turned around to continue her stride to her bedroom.
"No. You're going to send him a telegram and you're going to do it as soon as possible. If you don't, I'll contact him myself," Meg said, though she doubted she'd learn the address of the de Chagny residence from anyone other than Christine. "You're obviously recovered seeing as how you're healthy enough to strut around like you own the place," Meg added.
"Well I will own the place soon enough," Christine whispered slyly as she reached for the door to her chambers. Meg followed her into the boudoir before Christine could shut her out.
"What is that supposed to mean?" Meg scoffed.
"It's it obvious? I intend to make myself Erik's mistress," said Christine proudly.
"You conniving little…"
"I prefer to say ambitious."
"You're a snake!" repeated Meg.
"If I'm a snake, it's because my life has made me so desperate for an escape." Christine sighed as she sunk into an armchair and gazed out the window at the shimmering Long Island Sound. Meg folded her arms and stared at the mournful vicomtesse. "You know Meg, we're an awful lot alike, aren't we?" Christine said pensively.
"Do tell. I'd love to know how a Parisian vicomtesse is similar to a Coney Island burlesque dancer," Meg sassed.
"Isn't it obvious? We're both at the mercy of the horrible men in our life!" Christine laughed.
"Oh, please," Meg sneered. "I have no sympathy for you. You're just like every other 'ambitious' woman who enters an unhappy marriage for wealth and status."
Christine sighed again before answering, "I suppose if I'd married solely for wealth and status, I would've been content with my lot, but I didn't care about either of those things, Meg. You know I didn't."
"Well no one forced you to marry Raoul…"
"What was I supposed to do!" Christine's voice shook, but she fixed her gaze on the window rather than face her friend. "I was scheduled to walk down the aisle in a matter of hours! Sure, I could've jilted him, broken the heart of one of my dearest friends, embarrassed him for taking a chase on an opera wench, ruined his reputation as well as my own…" Christine paused to catch her breath. "And all for what, Meg? I had nowhere to go...My Angel abandoned me. The opera wanted nothing to do with me. Even you Meg were nowhere to be found." Christine threw a searing glower at her friend before turning back to the window with her nose in the air.
Meg bit her lip as she felt a pang of guilt in her chest. She and Christine were no longer friends, but they'd been the best of friends back then. She'd abandoned her friend in her greatest time of need. But how was Meg supposed to know what Christine had done the night before her wedding? Did Christine know Meg and her mother were with Erik? She must have known, even if it was only through intuition.
"You know," Christine continued. "As unhappy as I am, I thank God every day I married Raoul. What would've become of me and Gustave if I hadn't?"
"You would've managed just like every other woman who finds herself in that position," said Meg unsympathetically.
"I suppose I would've. I suppose I did manage rather well." Christine chuckled. "But I wasn't entering a marriage of convenience. I married Raoul because he was a dear friend and we had the potential to be happy...and yet I couldn't even have that!" cried Christine. Raoul had won Christine's heart by offering her protection from a man she no longer wanted to be protected from. He'd thought he was marrying a woman who was as devoted to him as he was to her; instead he married a woman who was in love with his rival.
Meg folded her arms across her chest and stood her ground as she stared at Christine. She wanted to hate her ex-best friend for her sneaky behavior, for complaining about her comparatively easy lifestyle, but every word out of Christine's mouth dug into Meg's heart, and Meg resented the pity lumping in her chest.
"Listen, Meg." Christine stood from her armchair. "Erik ruined me that night, not because he took my purity or left me with a child, but because once a woman loves him, she is his forever. I suggest you be very careful if and when you take that chance." Christine walked toward Meg, holding an intimidating gaze. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I must change for dinner."
Christine entered her dressing room and slammed the door, leaving Meg alone in the boudoir. Now that Christine was out of sight, Meg's pity disappeared into thin air. Meg stamped her foot in frustration and stormed out of the Louis-Philippe room. She was determined to get Christine out of America as soon as possible. Then Erik could be hers.