Disclaimer: The song herein was composed by Cesar Frank, and the lyrics are actually not a direct translation, but a Protestant interpretation of the lyrics (whatever that means).

A/N: This is the continuation of the wedding. Enjoy!

Chapter Forty-Seven

Closing her eyes, Christine released her first note tentatively, but her voice became stronger as she continued.

O, Lord most Holy, O, Lord Almighty,

Father Omnipotent, we bring to Thee our praise.

Help us to know Thee, know Thee and love Thee;

Father, Father, grant us Thy truth and grace;

Father, Father, guide and defend us.

Erik held her trembling hands as she sang, and he was filled with sheer ecstasy at the sound of her angelic voice. He tightened his grip slightly, as if to give some of his strength to her, as she began the second verse. Suddenly, Christine heard Erik's rich and alluring voice ringing out with hers:

Rule in our willful hearts,

Guide Thou our wand'ring thoughts;

In all our sorrows let us find our rest in Thee;

And in temptation's hour, Save by Thy mighty power,

Thy help send us; hear us in mercy.

Show Thy favor,

As we live and sing praise to Thee.

There was a holy hush in the sanctuary as Erik and Christine's perfectly meshed voices faded out to a whisper. Father Michel quietly and reverently spoke. "Let us pray. Our most gracious Heavenly Father, we thank you for Your sweet presence here tonight at this very moment. We commend to Your hands Erik and Christine as they embark upon this journey of life together. Go with them, Lord, and keep them in all of their ways. May they glorify You in all that is said and done in their home. Bless them and keep them safe, and bring them the peace and joy that can only be found in fulfilling Your perfect will for their lives and marriage. In Christ's holy name we pray, Amen."

"Amen," the guests echoed.

Father Michel turned slightly and picked up the small cup from the table near him. "In keeping with Persian custom, the couple will each dip their smallest finger into this cup of honey and feed it to the other."

The bride and groom each stretched a hand toward the cup, dipping their pinky fingers into the sticky golden substance. They reached toward each other and did as they were instructed. Christine's cheeks flushed…she found the gesture to be very intimate, and felt a bit strange performing it in front of their guests. Erik's eyes, however, never left hers as he gently ate the honey from her finger, and as she gazed shyly at him, she saw that his expression did not mirror her own. His eyes were no longer their usual blue-green in the glow of the candlelight…now they were a fiery, deep green that radiated the passion he was feeling at that moment. Father Michel spoke once again, "May your life together be sweet, and may Your union be fruitful." Christine blushed again, and Erik took both of her hands in his own.

The old priest cleared his throat and continued a bit more loudly. "By the authority given to me, I now pronounce you husband and wife. What God has joined together, let no man separate. Erik, you may now kiss your bride."

Gingerly, Erik touched the bottom hem of her white veil and lifted it up slowly from her face. At last, he could see her clearly, and she was more beautiful than she had ever been. At last, she was his. He set the veil atop the crown on her head, and cupped her face in his strong hands. Leaning in, he pressed his lips to hers gently at first. Christine closed her eyes and leaned toward him. The kiss increased in pressure and Erik opened his mouth slightly to taste her lips. After a few short seconds, their contact was broken. Christine eyes fluttered open to see his burning gaze upon her, and it made her stomach quiver.

"Honored guests, I now present to you Monsieur and Madame Durand," Father Michel joyously announced. Everyone stood and applauded the bride and groom, and Christine turned to Meg to receive her bouquet once again. They looked at each other and Meg wiped a tear from her own cheek. "Congratulations, Christine…you're really married now."

Christine gently encircled Meg's shoulders with her delicate arms. "Thank you, Meg," she whispered, as she began to cry again.

Erik turned to the Persian and shook his hand. "Thank you, Daroga, for everything. You have made this night most memorable." The Persian nodded and patted Erik on the arm. "May God bless you both, my friend," he said softly.

Everyone milled about for a few moments before Father Michel raised his voice above the greetings of "best wishes" and "congratulations" that surrounded the couple. "Friends, Monsieur Gregoire and Madame Suzette Laurent have graciously provided a wedding meal at their home for us all this evening. Please follow in your carriages after the bride and groom, and we will continue the festivities."

Erik and Christine both nearly gasped in unison. "Madame?" Erik turned to Suzette with a puzzled expression.

Madame Suzette patted him on the shoulder. "Well, we certainly can't have a wedding and no wedding feast, now can we? You are our friends, and we are more than pleased to have this privilege." She reached up to hug him around the neck. "Congratulations, Monsieur Erik. If there is anything that Gregoire and I can ever do for you both, please let us know," she whispered.

"Thank you, Madame," Erik replied, "but I believe that you've both done more than enough already." He turned and saw Amêlie seated on her stool watching him closely. He whispered to Christine and she turned to smile at the young girl. "Excuse us for just a moment, please," she said to Meg and Madame Giry.

"Young songbird, you were lovely," Erik beamed at Amêlie as they approached her, reaching out to kiss her hand. She blushed and smiled up at him. "I can tell that you have been practicing, Mademoiselle Amêlie."

"Thank you, Monsieur Erik. I…I was honored to be able to sing for you both on your special night," she said shyly, turning her attention to Christine. "You look wonderful, Madame Christine," she gushed, "and you both sang beautifully, as well."

Christine was mildly surprised to be addressed by her married title so soon. "Well…thank you, Mademoiselle Amêlie. You look lovely, as well. It meant a lot for you to sing that particular song at our wedding…I have always loved it." She smiled at her sincerely, and reached out to gently embrace the younger girl.

Before they knew it, the bride and groom were being ushered to Father Michel's study to sign the marriage certificate along with Meg and the Persian. Then they were hurried out the front doors of the church to their waiting carriage.

Erik and Christine climbed inside and waved to their guests happily as theyrode off. The driver had been instructed to take them around the city at least once before driving out to the Laurent house, so that everything could be made ready for their arrival. Erik reached for his bride immediately after he had closed the carriage door and pulled her tightly to him. He kissed her hungrily and wrapped his arms about her waist. They were like this for several minutes before Christine was forced to pull away and catch her breath. "My goodness!" she exclaimed, laughing. "What has gotten into you, my husband?" She grinned mischievously at him, leaning in to peck him quickly again on the lips.

Erik caressed her bare shoulders. "You're mine," he whispered, with a hint of awe in his melodic voice. "You belong to me now." He studied her face with wide-eyed wonder.

"Yes, my darling, and you belong to me," she smiled, bringing her arms up and clasping her hands behind his neck. She shook her head in disbelief. "Is this real, Erik?"

"Yes," he murmured into her mouth before claiming it passionately once more. This time, they remained in each other's embrace until they arrived at the Laurent estate. Erik found that he could not keep his hands to himself, no matter how hard he tried. He felt that he had to be touching Christine in some way the entire evening. Even during the meal, he was holding her hand under the table. She chuckled and teased him quietly about it, but inside, she was truly relishing every touch and every shiver that coursed through her body.

After dining on roast lamb and potatoes along with an array of desserts, including a small but elaborately decorated wedding cake, the newlyweds said goodnight to their guests and took the carriage for a short ride to the guest house. The driver returned to the main house to take several of the guests home, as the hour was growing late. Christine's belongings had arrived earlier with Madame Giry and sat waiting on the doorstep. When Erik saw them, he laughed aloud at the sheer number of bags. "You are but one woman, mon ange, and yet you possess enough for three!"

"Erik, don't tease me! Carry me over the threshold, would you?" she grinned at him.

He swept her effortlessly into his arms and pushed the door open, carrying her carefully through. He kicked the door closed behind him, startling Christine. "Erik, all of my things are still outside," she said, puzzled.

He met her gaze with a wry smile. "Your things, mon amour, can wait," he replied seductively, turning toward the hallway. Approaching the bedroom door, Christine stopped him.

"Erik, wait," she breathed, between kisses. "I…I have to freshen up a bit. Please? I need my bags." She raised her eyebrows at him pleadingly, and he couldn't resist her. Sighing deeply, he entered their bedroom and set her down gently on the large four-poster bed. "Yes, Madame," he said drearily, with a hint of resentment, as he turned to leave the room.

"Now, Erik," she called after him, "don't be so glum. It will only take me a few moments. Besides, I'll need your help getting out of this dreadful contraption," she laughed, motioning to her dress.

He raised his eyebrow and shot her a look of feigned disinterest. "And what makes you think that I would be willing to aid in such a task, Madame?"

She chuckled heartily. "Hurry back," she replied in a sing-song voice.

When Erik returned with the last of the bags, Christine was not in their bedroom. "Christine?" he called out to her. "Where are you, mon ange?"

"In the lavatory," she called back to him. "May I please have the small bag…the one with the red trim?"

"Of course." He located the bag and carried it to the lavatory door, knocking lightly. "It's here," he said.

"Thank you," she called cheerily from within.

Trudging back to their bedroom, he sat down somewhat sullenly on the bed, and decided to remove his shoes. While I'm at it, he thought, I might as well get comfortable. He removed his socks, cravat, and jacket, putting them away. He paced the room for a few moments before he decided to relax on the bed and wait for his bride. After a few moments of remaining motionless, he had fallen asleep.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

In the lavatory, Christine removed her wedding gown, veil, and all jewelry. She had hung them as best as she could, and had made certain to wash all of the cosmetics from her face. She was left in her corset and shift, and she suddenly realized that she was terrified. But I love him, she reminded herself. He is my husband now…and we should be together. Still, her modesty seemed to take over, and she felt her face growing hot. Thousands of "what ifs" flooded her mind, and she was very unsure of herself. Erik brought out more passion in her than she had dreamed possible, and yet now that their union was fully blessed by God, she had no idea what to do with those feelings. She inwardly berated herself for being so childish, until she realized that her new husband had been waiting for her for quite some time. She stepped out into the hallway and walked softly to the bedroom door.

Erik was sprawled out on their large bed, still dressed in his trousers and shirtsleeves. Suddenly, her fear began to dissipate and it was replaced by a warm feeling in the pit of her stomach. She knew this feeling…he evoked it in her every time he came near. She tiptoed to the bed and picked up one of the roses from her bouquet that she had kept. Leaning over him, she stroked the petals along his exposed cheek and down his neck. His cheek twitched involuntarily and she nearly giggled. Emboldened, she climbed on to the bed next to him and bent down to kiss his lips. Suddenly, he reached up and pulled her down on top of him.

"Erik! You tricked me! You are absolutely horrible!" she cried, struggling to free herself from his grip.

"I was sleeping, mon ange," he laughed, "but I woke up as soon as you exited the lavatory. You forget that my hearing is excellent," he smiled roguishly at her.

"You are an infuriating man, Erik Durand," she teased him. "What am I ever going to do with you?"

"I can think of a few things," he said, cocking one eyebrow and pulling her close again.

Christine blushed and pulled away. "Erik…I…I don't know what I'm…supposed to do."

"Well," he whispered, "it's not as if I have any knowledge of these matters, either, my darling. I'm sure we can manage to figure it out together," he teased.

"I'm serious!" she nearly shouted, startling him.

"Christine!" he said, shushing her. "Darling, you have to calm down…and…" He stopped short, noticing at last that her wedding gown was no longer on her body, and she was wearing a rather intimidating corset, as well as a light gown beneath it. His eyes went wide and his mouth went dry almost simultaneously.

"Erik? What is it?" she spoke, alarmed at his change in demeanor.

"Nothing…it-it's nothing, mon ange. Uh…perhaps we should…change?"

"Alright," she responded, watching him curiously. She was becoming a bit worried. Have I done something wrong? she wondered.

"Let me…light some candles first, perhaps?" he asked nervously. He struck a match and went around the room, lighting four or five that he had put there in anticipation of their first night together as husband and wife. His hands were shaking so badly that he could barely hold the match. Christine noticed, and finally realized that she wasn't the only one who was frightened and unsure. The thought made her feel a bit more confident, and it surprised her.

She stood up slowly from the bed and slid over to him as quietly as she could. His back was turned and he did not see her approaching. He blew out the match and spun around swiftly, nearly knocking her over. He gasped at her closeness. Christine read the fear and uncertainty in his eyes as he set the match down and tangled one hand in her hair. "Mon amour," he breathed, gazing deeply into her eyes. "Erik," she whispered, "I need you to help me change out of these clothes, please." She turned her back to him, and he shakily began to unlace her corset, his breath warm and close to her exposed shoulders. At last, it was completely loose and he let go. She stepped forward, and it slid to the floor, landing with a soft thud.

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A/N: I would like to point out the fact that I'm noticing a lot of words that ran together in the last chapter, especially, but in others as well. This is through no fault of my own…I editin my program, I re-edit when I upload, and it looks fine. It must be a bug in the system or something. So, I apologize for the "squished" words, although I can't help it! Very frustrating!

Also, I'm checking my stats and it appears that I'm getting a LOT of lurkers. I appreciate all of you, and I'm glad you're reading…but getting one or two reviews per chapter when I knowthat there are at least 80 of you reading is a bit disheartening at times. I hope that you're still enjoying the story, and that it is meeting (or exceeding) your expectations.