Chapter Four
I did not have to wait long for an opportunity to please Erik. Upon my return home, he eagerly asked if we could continue our music lessons. I agreed readily and soon found I was grateful for the distraction our lessons provided me.
When I wasn't singing, my thoughts turned directly back to my conversation with the mysterious Persian and my impending rescue. I was still in the dark about this plan, just as I had been about the arranged meeting between Raoul and me on the night of the masque. I considered it was perhaps for the best, for if I was clueless about what was going to happen, there would be no chance of accidentally revealing it to Erik.
My mind was still filled with fear at the premonition of what would happen. What I feared most was not my own life, but the realization that in exchange for my freedom, I would have to sacrifice someone else's life; Erik's. Perhaps I hadn't faced the terrible truth that abandoning Erik would damage him beyond repair, but to place his life in danger?
After our incident with the knife, Erik had overcompensated in politeness and gentleness in my presence. He truly sought to mend the broken bond between us. He let me set my own schedule and did not demand I sing for him when he requested. I spent lazy mornings sleeping in, before I joined Erik in the main room of his home. I would sit and read, and discover that he had left me tea and refreshments at my side while I was absorbed with my books. After lunch, we started our lessons, which lasted throughout the afternoon. Within a few days, we had covered every part and every line to the score of Faust.
Just as Erik had predicted, the opera did eventually re-open. The details of the diva's death were kept out of the papers, and the members of the company avoided speaking of it while in the building. Even the usual chattering corps de ballet seemed to move about the opera as if walking on eggshells, their tongues for once silenced. Faust was announced as rehearsals started for the chorus, even though there had been no assignment of leading roles.
I did not seek to draw any further attention to myself in rehearsals, and found it an easy enough task to remain quiet. Genny did not appear for rehearsal on the first day, and I was relieved when she was still absent the day after. Hopefully Raoul had taken my concerns seriously and already taken his sister safely out of the city. I did seek out Camille afterwards one afternoon and asked if she had heard anything from Genny, but she admitted that she had not seen our mutual friend in over a week.
By the end of the week with one star soprano dead and the other missing, the tongues eventually started to loosen. I had no doubt that they would soon be talking about me. As we were dismissed from practice Saturday afternoon, I could feel almost every set of eyes watching me as I left the stage.
My feet led me to my dressing room, which I had not visited since the closing performance of Le Nozze de Figaro. Upon my inspection, I concluded that the room had not been occupied since. My costumes, as well as Genny's, were hung against the back of the door. Handkerchiefs and open perfume bottles littered the dressing table. An acrid stench of wilting flower petals and dirty water assaulted my nose. Now this once-happy place had transformed into a den of depression. I ran my hand along the dressing table, feeling the dust gather on the pads of my fingers.
Something caught my eye. Underneath a delicate wooden fan that Genny had used for a prop, I noticed a flash of brilliant white that contrasted starkly with the dusky dim atmosphere. I retrieved the object and saw it was a letter with my name written crisply on the front.
I tore it open and read over its contents, all the while my heart fluttering in my breast like a bird desperate to escape its cage.
Christine,
I have not forgotten you. Knowing that I must keep you in danger while I work to free you is more devastating to me than you can imagine. Once I have made the plans with my new ally, I am prepared to take you back to our estate in Normandy. Philippe has agreed to this and given me his blessing. He will join us later and you will have the protection of my entire family. I will do everything in my power to keep you safe. Yet I too must wait till the time is right.
Be brave. I'm coming for you, my love.
Raoul
Judging by the handwriting, it had been written quickly. I clutched it to my breast tightly. I breathed in deeply, letting my lungs fill with exhilarating air. After almost a week in the dark, not knowing anything about my intended rescue, I had begun to lose hope. Now I could feel that hope start to renew at the anticipation of my freedom.
I reached out to touch the words with my fingers, wanting to read it again; wanting to even read it out loud. My index finger touched the first letters of my name.
"Christine."
I heard Erik's voice and my hopes were crushed. Even in my elated state, I was still aware enough to realize it was his voice calling to me and not a figment of my imagination. I had to act quickly in order not to startle myself and arouse any suspicion.
"Erik?" I called out in a sweet voice. At the same moment, I closed my hand, crumbling the paper inside. I turned slowly, bracing myself. To my surprise, he was not standing behind me, or even in the room. I directed my gaze at the mirror and forced a wide smile on my face. "Erik, are you there?" I called again. I heard a snap coming from the direction of the mirror and a sharp breeze passed by me, accompanying the sound. I dropped the crumbled paper to the floor.
The glass surface of the mirror slowly disappeared to be replaced with Erik's dark and imposing figure filling the frame. He stepped into the light and I saw a large piece of fabric draped over one arm. In his other hand, he held up a long steam-white rose. The bloom was the largest I had seen, with each petal stretching outward. I couldn't help but gaze at it with wonder. Erik noticed my visual attraction to the rose and extended forward.
I reached out and took it from his grasp, offering another sweet smile. I felt my skirt sweep forward and cover the spot where I had discarded Raoul's note. I let my fingers run through the petals, feeling their delicate softness caress the pads of my fingers. At the same time, I lifted my right foot out of my shoe. Concealing my actions beneath my skirt, I found the note, grasped it with my toes and deposited it neatly within my empty shoe.
The intoxicating sweet scent of the rose filled my nose as I breathed in serenely and stepped back into my shoe. I did not feel right. I felt my deception rise up into me, like a bitter poison. I suddenly became very nervous, wondering how long Erik had been watching.
"I'm glad you are here." I managed to say. "I was not looking forward to walking outside to the Rue Scribe." It was a pitiful excuse but the best I could accomplish.
"It is not so cold right now." Erik explained. "The weather had taken a pleasant turn this afternoon. Therefore I was hoping you would indulge me…" He lifted his other arm that held the mass of fabric, which I could now determine was a cloak. "In an evening stroll."
My teeth shifted as if they would start to chatter uncontrollably. Something in his casual manner seemed to be concealing his true motive. Perhaps he already knew about the note. He could have read it and was now inwardly relishing my attempt to conceal it. "If you insist."
"It would give me great pleasure if you would join me. Besides there is something I have to ask you." His long fingers reached towards the rose. In one fluid motion, he stroked the petals and the edge of my fingers as well. I took a step back, regretting it the moment I did. I could not show my fear to him.
Erik unfolded the cloak and offered it to me. It was a lady's cloak made of soft grey wool and lined with rich amethyst velvet. The thick fabric felt heavy against my shoulders. We walked back through the mirror, and I tried desperately to think of what would be expected of me and where he could be taking me as he led me through the dark passages between the walls. They were unfamiliar to me and I knew soon that we were not returning to the house on the lake. I couldn't let him know my discomfort, and I forced myself to hold his hand tighter instead of pulling away. With each step, the crumbled note in my shoe pinched me tighter.
He led me up several steps, and once we stopped climbing, I felt breathless. Not just from the physical activity, but from my nerves. We stopped in front of a door, and Erik turned to look at me face-to-face. He reached to the clasp of my cloak and touched it, assuring himself that it was secure. He rested his hand on the side of the hood, pressing the soft fabric against my cheek. He stood there wordlessly for a long moment before he opened the door.
I thought my heart could not sink any further. I saw before me the strange statues and shapes that litter the roof of the opera house. I jumped back, tripping over my own feet, as if the wad of paper in my shoe had turned into a blazing coal. Erik had to have known about the note. Why else would he bring me here? I allowed myself to be led forward as we slowly paced around the roof top. While I should have been taking in the breathtaking view of the clear evening sky, I instead was shaking with dread at what would happen. Erik noticed, but did not ask if I was cold. The cloak he had given me provided sufficient warmth. We both knew the temperature was not the cause of my tremors.
Erik paraded me along the west side of the building and around to the southern end. I could look out and see the city, still well-lit in the beginning hours of twilight. The river stood still, looking like a large sharp piece of black glass cutting through the streets. I glanced behind me to see the ever-watchful gaze of Apollo. It was as if the god of music himself stared down directly at me, judging me for my transgressions. I had put Raoul in danger and I had lied to Erik time and time again. I was certain now that he would drag a confession out of me and I would be forced to reveal my ulterior motives. I would seal my own fate and Raoul's.
The silence that passed between us was terrifying. I wanted to end it but I kept silent out of fear. A wind propelled itself from the street below and across the roof. The building was still covered in a light layer of snow from the previous day. The breeze stirred the snowflakes and they started to encircle us, as if in a dance. Erik and I both gazed up in amusement at the snowflakes. However Erik's gaze lingered on my face.
"Christine, you look very beautiful." He whispered. The arm that held mine pulled me closer. "Have I ever told you that?"
"Yes, but there is no need to flatter me." I protested, purposely keeping my gaze focused away from him.
"Forgive me then." The sad inflection in his voice caused me to feel guilty about my harshness.
I wanted to know what was going to happen. He was clearly toying with me. My anxiety prodded me to pry, but I dared not. I tried to make casual conversation while waiting for the axe to fall.
"The city looks very lovely. Erik, do you come up here often to look at it?" I asked.
"Not as often as I used to. Over the years it has become too noisy, too cluttered." He remarked leaning his body forward to look over the edge. "Even from up here, I feel the cluster of humanity building and overflowing." He sighed. "And I'm still not a part of it. As much as I adore this city and all it offers, I long to leave it."
"Where would you go?" I asked with candid curiosity.
His lips curved slightly as he thought and I watched them. I had learned to study Erik's eyes and the movements his lips, as they were the only way of judging his emotions beneath the mask.
"To the country, I think. Somewhere quiet in the middle of the woods." He answered in a light tenor, as his lips molded themselves into a smile. "A place where I can be alone. Where no one can inconvenience me and …where I would not be a blight on society." As he spoke, his voice lost its gentle air and his face fell. "No…perhaps not alone." At this, he turned away from me. The hem of his coat was dusted with a layer of white from the errant snow. "Christine, I need to ask you something."
I braced myself. His pretense was starting to fade and I knew I would now be called to answer for my actions. I tried to think of what I could say, knowing that it would be useless. The air around me felt colder now as I awaited his question.
He was hesitant. I could hear him breathing, even over the wind. The labor harsh sound penetrated my ears, no doubt caused by his rage. I bravely moved forward and rested one hand on the back of his elbow and forced myself to look at him. He stood in the snow, trembling. There was no light from underneath the mask as he held his eyes tightly shut, and his shaking hands desperately clutched an object.
"Christine." He swiftly turned. He would have pushed me over with the force of his body if I hadn't sidestepped him. His trembling hands came into view and I saw clearly now what they held. His eyes finally opened.
"Christine…marry me."
We both stared at the plain gold ring Erik tightly held between his thumb and index finger. It glowed like an ember among the black leather gloves that encased his fingers. I had been struck dumb with fear that he would throw insults at me and lash out with his anger. So this was the last thing I expected.
This was much worse.
I took a step back in stunned surprise, and he looked at me, his eyes filled with such terrible sorrow. He hadn't asked me. He had made it a statement. As if by speaking the words aloud, he could make them so. He seemed to realize his mistake and shut his eyes in pain.
"Wait, listen to me. I know I have no right to ask for your hand. I have no right to deserve your affection or your friendship which you have so freely given me." he explained. One arm came out towards me. He did not embrace me, but only let the tips of his fingers touch the edge of my cloak. "I realize every moment I am with you that I profane your presence with my hideous face. I have done so many terrible things in my life, but I want just one chance to do something right." his voice cracked as he continued to beg. "I have ruined your reputation by having you stay with me in my home. I am painfully aware of that. Let me amend my mistake and take you as my wife. If you would have me as your husband, I would spend the rest of my life working to atone for all that I've done for you."
"Oh Erik...what can I say?" I gasped. "You cannot force me to love you!" I cried with sadness.
"I would never force you!" he matched my intense emotion with his own. "I'm asking for your hand. Just like any other man." He fell to his knees in the snow, his hand reaching from the edge of my cloak to the hem in my dress. He touched the fabric as if he were cradling the delicate wings on a butterfly between his powerful fingers.
I let my head sink between my shoulders, already feeling tears threatening at my eyes. I held them back, knowing it would hurt him to see me weep bitterly after he had proposed. How could I answer without destroying him? If I responded honestly, I would wound him. If I was forced to lie, I would only prolong his suffering.
"What if I said no?" I asked. "Erik, I know you. If I refused you, would you just let me go? As simple as that?" I shook my head. "We both know the truth. You couldn't willingly let me walk out of your life. I have no choice."
His hand fell away and returned to cover the one still holding the ring. He shot me a fierce glance, and I could see that he was already crying while I was trying to hold back my tears for his sake.
"I let you go once." he whispered. "You asked and I let you leave me, even though it nearly destroyed me. But I would give myself over to any destruction, any pain, if it would make you happy Christine." He pulled himself up, his height casting an imposing figure against the fading lights of the city. "And yet you hate me..." he hissed.
My heart rolled over. I felt as if the temperature had dropped another ten degrees. The air around my stinging cheeks was almost as icy cold as his voice and his threat. It was a test. Erik, even in his despair, was cunning.
"I do not hate you, Erik." I said. "You know that."
"You are acting exceedingly cruel to me for one who claims not to hate me." he jeered. "Do not spare my feelings Christine. Do not try to be coy in your excuses." I watched his hands ball into fists. "You couldn't bear to think of having a husband with a face like mine. It sickens you to think of yourself wed to a living corpse."
I had to plan my next moves very carefully so not to send him into a rage. I took a step towards him, my hand extended outward as if to calm a cornered animal.
"It is not your face that frightens me." I confessed.
"What is it then?" he shot back, flinging off my plea as if it were an annoying insect on his shoulder. "What caused you burst into tears of fright instead of joy when I asked you to marry me?"
"I am not afraid of you. I know how thoughtful and generous you have been to me." I licked my lips. "But your anger frightens me. It terrifies me. I'm frightened that such a good soul can at the same time be twisted and cruel. It's not hatred I feel for you…it's horror. " I made the decision to be truthful. In this moment, I could not be deceitful and lie to him. "You have murdered for me. I fear that if I reject you, I would be taking responsibility for your actions afterwards." I was finally standing in front of him and I reached up to touch his mask. I pressed my palm against it and felt the firm flesh that peeked out from the side, making contact with my own skin. "I do love you, but don't make me pay for your sins. Don't make your love for me..."
Ugly. The word was on the tip of my tongue and I stopped it. My affection for Erik was still pure, but with every layer I uncovered of his true nature, I felt it become tainted. I knew I could not change who he was. I could not wipe his slate clean. His past would always haunt me. That was why I could not stay with him and I could not be his wife.
He grabbed my hand with such intensity that I winced. But instead of jerking in it anger, he instead placed a feverish kiss upon it. My body was forced forward and I fell upon his chest. Now not only could I hear his sobs, I could feel them press against my cheek every time he heaved.
"Then tell me what I must do!" he cried. "Give guidance to such a misguided fool like me. Tell me what else I have to do to earn your love." He cupped my chin in his hand and brought my face to look at his. "I would never force you. Let me earn your love. To win your hand would be the greatest prize in the world."
His chivalrous pleas might have fallen on deaf ears. He had offered me so much and I still hesitated to become his wife. Despite his unfortunate face and misguided actions, he had done everything to please me and earn my affection. He gave me his music. He offered me his protection. He afforded me with a home and comfort that I would never have been able to manage on my own.
Then the realization hit me. It was not what Erik could do for me, but what I would prevent him from doing for me. At last, I had something to bargain with.
"Erik, you have given me so many gifts and you have offered me your protection. As my husband I am sure you would continue to do so, but you go too far. As much as I am grateful for what you have done for me, I am equally horrified of the actions you have done in the name of love. Please put your sinful past behind you. No more lies, no extortion or threats. Not to my friends or anyone. Don't let me feel like I have to watch every step I take. Don't make me fear for the safety of those around me because of you. No more murders. I don't want to fear you anymore." I stated firmly. I touched the ring in his hand. It was nothing more than a simple gold band. I knew he could have afforded to buy a more expensive ring if he wanted, but he presented me with this; a simple token of his love.
"I promise to consider your proposal. I am not rejecting you, but I cannot accept unless you promise me my requests." I was surprised how calm my voice sounded, as if I was bargaining a business deal instead of a display of deep affection.
His head tilted as he thought. I feared for one moment that he would laugh at me, or worse, curse me for demanding something of him. He had completely changed my life and there was nothing to prevent him now from doing it again. He could agree to nothing and spirit me away once more. I would be helpless against him. But if he accepted my terms, I would earn myself a little freedom for now and then be able to escape when the time was right.
Or when that time came, would I have another change of heart?
I felt Erik slip the ring over my finger and press it against my flesh. "Christine, as long as you wear this ring, you will have my protection from all those who try to harm you. I promise you I will be a good man, and if you would have me as your husband, I would make you the happiest of women. I will confine myself to my home while you are away and only beg for your company when you return. Let me continue to coach you and let your voice be heard and praised all over the city. Sing for me and I will do anything that you ask of me."
The ring was heavy and cold against my fingers, which were starting to tingle from the cold. I folded my hands together, and Erik, understanding, enclosed my hands in his, shielding them from the bitter wind that stirred around us.
In that moment, I wondered if I truly had the courage to go through with all this. I would again engross myself in another shameful lie, and consent to marry him to keep him happy. I would give this broken man hope, but it would be a false hope. Once I left him, it would destroy him, and he would forever live with the terrible truth that I had deceived him. I stood at a crossroads of submission and betrayal. Perhaps I was already beaten. I bit my lower lip, desperate to think of a reply.
Erik answered for me. "You can give me your answer in time, but until then will you wear this ring. As a promise to me. I will keep my word as long as you wear this ring." He squeezed his hands tightly against mine in a sad act of desperation.
I swallowed the confession rising to my lips. I recalled the Persian's plea to do whatever it took to make Erik happy, to pacify him.
Deceive him.
I nodded. "I will Erik." We both sighed in unison, his was one of joy. His mouth formed into an honest smile. He leaned over and pressed his lips firmly against my cheek. They were shockingly warm, even for being in the cold. They felt like a hot cinder against my frigid cheek, and it felt wonderful. My hand reached up to touch the back of his head, pressing him against me. I could feel a tear falling from the corner of my eye and feared it would fall on him. I moved my lips to connect with his. They stayed there, matching the gentle pressure he used. My free hand gripped the collar of his coat.
I couldn't let him see me cry...and I didn't want to let him go.
He didn't press further. My lips parted for him, but he simply kissed my bottom lip and pulled away. I kept my eyes closed, knowing I did not have the strength to look at him.
"Christine, you will save me." he whispered and then pulled me into a deep embrace. Enclosed in his arms, I felt the safest I have ever been. That thought made me want to sob even harder, but I choked it back. "And perhaps when the opera is done, we can go away from here. To a cabin...in the quiet woods. Would you like that?"
I wanted to tell him that nothing would make me happier. I wanted to kiss him again. I wanted to turn the world upside down so that I could stay with him.
I wanted the impossible. I stayed buried in his embrace and hated myself for it.