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Chapter Fifty-Four

Erik sat in stunned silence before the large mahogany desk, staring at the dark-haired, wiry man before him. This can't be real. Surely I am dreaming!

"Monsieur Durand? Monsieur? Are you quite alright?" At last, he turned his head to acknowledge the source of the voice. It was Madame Giroux, who was studying him with a worried expression.

"Y-yes, Madame. I am. Thank you. I just...I don't know what to say."

"Just say that you'll continue in a manner worthy of this firm's reputation, Monsieur Durand," said the stout, quick-witted bald man called Raleigh. He was a partner in the Giroux firm, and had just found that he, too, had inherited part ownership of Giroux & Associates.

"And you do realize that...you may have to travel to Melun at least twice a week now to ensure that things are operating smoothly," his partner Beauvais chimed in. He twirled his oily moustache out of sheer habit, and it was beginning to annoy Erik.

"Yes. Yes, I understand, gentlemen," he replied, attempting to overcome the shock of learning that he had inherited one-third of his late employer's architectural firm. Madame Giroux was to receive a generous portion of the continual income from the firm's business, in accordance with her husband's will, and the rest was to be divided among the three co-owners.

The attorney cleared his throat. "Sign here, please, Monsieur Durand," he smiled formally, pushing papers toward Erik. Picking them up, he glanced again at Madame Giroux, who gazed admiringly at him. What on earth did Monsieur Giroux tell this woman about me? he wondered. If she only knew the life that I led but a few months ago... He swallowed and quickly turned his attention back to the papers, signing them with a flair. Thank You, Lord. I don't know why You've given me this opportunity, but thank You.

The men all shook hands and exchanged pleasantries. Erik was about to leave when Raleigh spoke up.

"You've done much of the work on the rebuilding project for the Opera Populaire, haven't you, Monsieur Durand?"

"I have." The last thing Erik wanted was to stay and exchange small talk. He was still suspicious of most people, and he feared that he might never fully rid himself of the ingrained survival instinct. He wanted to get home to share this news with Christine, who surely had been praying for him all morning. "What of it?"

"You'll need to be the one to contact the managers there to let them know the status of the project, as well as to inform them of the firm's new owners."

"I see."

"You're in charge of it now."

"Very well. I shall notify them by messenger. I prefer to do my business in writing, when possible."

"Yes. We can certainly understand that," Beauvais remarked carelessly.

Erik froze, his blazing eyes boring holes into Beauvais, whose sudden pale demeanor revealed that he had realized his faux pas. Erik spoke darkly, with cold aloofness. "If we are to have a civil working relationship, gentlemen, then let us be clear about something, shall we? Remarks such as that one are offensive to me. I wear this mask not only for myself, but to spare others the horror of witnessing the defect with which I was born. I am a man, like you, and I will be treated with the same respect and dignity that you would give to any man in my position. Is that understood?"

Wide-eyed, Raleigh and Beauvais nodded in unison.

"Good. Well then, gentlemen, I must go home to my wife now, so please excuse me." He kissed Madame Giroux's hand upon leaving, and she whispered to him discreetly. "Monsieur, thank you for the flowers and the kind words that you and your new wife sent in memory of my husband. I am so pleased to meet you at last. Perhaps you might both care to join me for dinner sometime at my home?"

"Thank you, Madame, we would be honored. Do take care of yourself and your family, please. And I will do my best to ensure that the firm brings in steady income, so that your share is enough to sustain you all in the absence of your husband. God be with you."

"And you as well, Monsieur Durand. I have full confidence in you, as did my husband. Thank you."

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Christine sat at the kitchen table, nervously drumming her fingers on the wooden surface. Still no sign of a carriage. Why is it taking him so long? Surely he should have been back an hour ago. Oh, please, Lord—let everything have gone well today! She chewed her lip until it was bruised and peeling, moving from her chair only to take the tea kettle from the stove for the third time, pouring herself another cup. She sat down again and absentmindedly gazed at her left hand, twirling her wedding band in slow circles on her ring finger. Sipping her tea slowly, she closed her eyes and attempted to relax. After another half hour had passed, she was nearly sick with worry...or with too much tea, or both.

She nearly cried with relief when at last the familiar black carriage rounded the corner from the main house, and she set her teacup down so abruptly that she feared she had cracked the china. She jumped from her chair and raced to the door, throwing it open to await the carriage. A few moments later it arrived, and the small black door swung open, revealing Erik's familiar form. Christine was elated at the sight of him, and she nearly leapt into his arms as he ascended the wooden steps.

"Oh, Erik! I was so worried! You were gone such a long time, and I feared the worst! I thought that perhaps you had been detained by gendarmes, or that something had gone terribly wrong at the attorney's office. What happened? Did Monsieur Laurent sit in the room with you? What did they say?" She finally stopped to take a breath and Erik couldn't help but laugh.

"Oh, mon ange, you must calm yourself," he said, kissing the top of her head. "I'm fine. Everything is fine. In fact, it's better than fine. It's quite near miraculous." He smiled at her and she wrapped her arms tightly about his waist, sighing with relief.

"I'm so glad! But what do you mean by miraculous?"

Erik straightened and stepped back from her so that he could look into her eyes. "Your husband is now the proud owner of one-third of Giroux and Associates."

"Wh-what? Do you really mean it?"

He nodded, smiling. Christine squealed and hugged him around his neck as he wrapped his arms about her waist, jubilantly spinning her in a circle. "I couldn't believe it myself, but I signed the papers, and it is legal. I was able to meet Madame Giroux, as well. She was very kind...she'd like us to come to dinner sometime...and to answer your question, no, Monsieur Laurent was not allowed to come into the office. He waited in an adjoining room. He told me afterward that he had suspected such an outcome, and he is pleased for us. I am co-owners with Messieurs Raleigh and Beauvais...both of whom I hope to be of good character and beyond reproach." He chuckled a bit, and added with a wink, "Not that I have any room to judge, mind you."

"Erik, mon cher, you are most definitely of good character! Even if you couldn't say that a few months ago, you can certainly believe it now," Christine smiled up at him proudly. "Just look, Erik," she continued, shaking her head in disbelief. "Just look at how God has blessed you since that time. Look at how he has blessed us," she marveled, hugging his waist once again.

Erik lifted a hand and tangled it in her auburn curls. "Yes, he most certainly has. I believe this calls for a celebration, mon amour. What shall we do in honor of this special occasion?"

In wordless response, she reached up and placed her hand at the nape of his neck, pulling his face down to hers. As she pressed her lips to his, she heard the quick intake of breath through his nostrils. Suddenly, she was swept off of her feet and into his powerful arms, heading in the direction of their bedroom. The afternoon passed by them in a haze of passion, and they fell asleep in each other's arms at last, waking in barely enough time to dress for an evening meal with the Laurents.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Christine, ma cherie, you look absolutely radiant! I'm so sorry that your trip was cut short by such awful news. How are you?" Madame Suzette reached out warmly to embrace Christine as she entered the dining room ahead of Erik.

She smiled sheepishly. "I'm doing very well, thank you, Madame. We appreciate the invitation to dinner. I...am so glad that there is no awkwardness between us after..." Christine saw Erik's shoulders tensing uncomfortably. After the whole debacle with Raoul.

Suzette made a swatting motion with her hand and smiled sincerely. "Oh, that? No, no, none at all. Ma cherie, you had no choice but to follow your heart. Frankly, I admire you for doing what you did. You turned away from the opportunity to become a Viscomtess, rejecting that grandiose lifestyle for a simpler one." She glanced at Erik, hoping that he would not misinterpret her comments. "And surely a happier life, as well. I would hope to have done the same thing in your position."

Christine blushed. "Yes, Madame, we are quite happy. Thank you." She seated herself in the chair that Erik had slid out for her and arranged her skirts neatly.

Erik sat down in his chair and cleared his throat to speak. "Madame, I would like to thank you again for the generous wedding feast that you had for us here. It was wonderful, and we both appreciated it."

"Yes." Christine chimed in.

"Oh, I enjoyed it!" Suzette replied. "It's not often that I am asked to plan such events. It was great fun."

Erik nodded and glanced at the table momentarily, trying to think of some sort of polite topic of conversation as the meal was being brought in. Monsieur Laurent broke the silence at last with the subject foremost on everyone's minds.

"So, Christine, were you pleased to hear of your husband's good fortune today?" he smiled at her, laying a napkin across his lap.

"Very much so, Monsieur. I am so very proud of his accomplishments...but then, I always have been," she blushed, gazing at her husband next to her. Erik looked up when she said this, with an expression of slight surprise. Christine smiled at him. "He is truly the most talented man that I have ever known," she added, fixing her eyes on Erik's as she spoke. She thought that she saw his eyes beginning to moisten before Monsieur Laurent spoke again.

"And he is very fortunate to have a loving wife such as yourself, Madame," Monsieur Laurent added. "Well, shall we say the blessing and sample this wonderful meal?"

Erik frowned. "Aren't we going to wait for Mademoiselle Amêlie?"

Madame Suzette piped up. "Oh, I'm sorry, Monsieur Erik, but she's been ill for a few days, since just after your wedding. Probably from all of the planning and singing and such," she laughed lightly. "She should be fine soon. Gregoire? Would you say the blessing, please?" He did so, and everyone bowed their heads for a moment. Erik found himself disturbed at the thought of the young girl in poor health.

He looked at Madame Suzette. "What are her symptoms, if I may ask?"

"She has a bit of a sniffle, I believe, and a sore throat. She has had a sour stomach, also. She did have a fever the first night, but it's gone now and she seems to be on the mend...except for her stomach, that is. Poor child can't seem to keep anything down." She shook her head and sighed, taking a small bite of her food.

"Is she able to keep down liquids of any sort?" he pressed further.

Suzette looked at him queerly. "Well, not lately. Why do you ask?"

He bent forward to pick at the food with his fork. "Oh, I was just curious...I have read many medical journals in my time. Has she seen a physician?"

Monsieur Laurent replied this time. "Yes, our personal physician. He has been to see her twice, and we've done everything he's told us to do."

Erik squirmed uncomfortably in his chair. I know that I could likely come up with an herbal remedy to take away the nausea, he thought. "May I see her? Just for a short while?"

Gregoire and Suzette stared at each other briefly before Suzette nodded in approval. "Alright," Monsieur Gregoire replied. "I suppose she'd like that."

"Thank you, Monsieur, Madame," Erik nodded. "One last thing, if I may...would you permit me to give her an herbal remedy to alleviate her nausea so that she can digest fluids and recover more quickly?"

"I...I don't know, Erik," Monsieur Gregoire replied apologetically. "Perhaps it's best if we leave her treatment to traditional physicians. No offense to you, of course. We just...prefer to go with more well-established methods."

Erik felt insulted, and sarcasm began to seep into his voice. "Oh. I see. Just as the well-established practice of bloodletting was done before it was found to be archaic and harmful. Very well, have it your way. Your daughter may soon be so dehydrated that she will only become more ill. If she cannot keep down any nourishment, her body cannot heal!"

"Erik, mon cher, please!" Christine interjected, laying a hand on his arm. She then turned her attention to the Laurents, whose expressions mirrored her own shock at his outburst. "I...I think what my husband is trying to say is that...he would never do anything to harm your daughter. He only wants to help make her well, if he can. Is there really any harm done? If his remedy doesn't work, then she'll simply vomit it back up anyhow, won't she?"

Suzette relaxed. "Well..." she glanced at her husband. "I suppose you're right. What do you think, Gregoire?"

He sighed. "I suppose."

Erik stood abruptly. "Would you be so kind as to direct me to your kitchen?"

"Of course," Monsieur Laurent replied, rising from his own seat. "Follow me, please."

The two men left the room, leaving Suzette and Christine alone to do little more than smile politely at one another as they chewed their food. Monsieur Laurent returned a few moments later, a strange look on his face. "He seems to know where the garden is, at least. He's already found the remains of the plants and herbs that he needs." He chuckled. "I had to hunt around for the pots and pans myself. Perhaps I should send the cook in again."

Christine shook her head. "No, he'll be better off on his own. Trust him, Monsieur. I can see that he loves Amêlie dearly. They seem to be kindred spirits, don't you think?" she said, smiling.

"Well, they do relate to one another's suffering," Monsieur Laurent reasoned. "And they have the common love of music as well. You're right...I have no reason not to trust him, Madame Christine. He has been nothing but a blessing to this family up until now," he said sincerely, lifting a forkful of food to his mouth.

"Well said, mon cher," Suzette added, patting his arm. "I hope that he can do some good. She really needs to eat...she is thin enough as it is, and we don't need her muscles becoming weaker."

"Perhaps simply seeing Erik will lift her spirit and help her to recover as much as the remedy will," Christine said hopefully.

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A/N: Thanks for the reviews! I appreciate all of your positive comments very, very much! So many of you guessed correctly about the will...you're all so smart:P Okay, it's time to click the li'l button again! LOL