Thank you to the new readers/reviewers that commented on the last chapter, I appreciate your input. I am glad to have each and every one of you reading and thank all who take the time to review.
Next chapter, my ladies, they will meet...and what an interesting experience that will be.
DARK SIDE OF THE GLASS
CHAPTER 19
The house was a true work of art, and Erik was quite anxious to start on the landscaping in the next couple of months.
The idea of having a woman in his life was ludicrous, but a part of him longed for the normalcy of it. Of course, the fact that she was being forced into this marriage did not bode well with Erik, and probably did not make her feel any better about it.
What little he knew about women, he had learned in the last two years – from his interaction with Tarrah; before that, he had learned little from Madam Giry, and even less from Christine.
Nothing I have learned from Tarrah is going to help me with this woman…it terrifies me to consider what she will think of me.
His thoughts caused his brow to furrow and he rubbed his forehead absently, willing away any pain that was threatening.
Lavanya would be disappointed, that was inevitable, but Erik would do all that was humanly possible to make her comfortable in her new home and give her all that she required – hopefully, he would feel no attraction to her whatsoever – then all of his musing and worry would have been for nothing.
He finished the two plays he had written for André and Firmin, knowing that they were anxious to get started on the coming years productions. Erik had already planned a tentative itinerary for the schedule, but he would give them the respect they were due as co-managers, and allow them to voice their approval.
Tarrah was away for the day, making new friends with the performers and getting to know the staff and musicians with whom she would be working. Erik had insisted she go on her own, as he knew that she would force him into some uncomfortable situation in which he would have to explain something about himself. – never a good thing.
The furniture, all their belongings, D'Ombre, and various other things would take a few days to get here from London, as Erik had sent for them a couple of days ago. Reluctantly, he agreed to make his home temporarily in Paris – although it was not as reluctantly as he made everyone believe.
The greater part of him relished the new acceptance he had from the Parisian's; they looked at him with interest and respect instead of indignation and revulsion.
However, he still felt the pull of his demons, dragging him back to the possibility that it was all a dream – a fluke. He could not trust that it would last; he had been alone and abused too many years for the affects of those years to be gone completely.
He bundled up the plays and various other papers and headed over to the opera house. He needed to see Gilles and Richard before the day was over, he had not intended to be done with them so soon; but once he got started, he couldn't stop.
As he walked down the center aisle of the opera house, Erik noticed all eyes turn to him. The cast and crew had been informed of his return, and everyone was curious about him. Even with the stories and tales that had been told about him, most of the chorus and staff had not feared him.
As the Phantom, Erik had never threatened anyone accept Carlotta – and one could hardly call his practical jokes on her threatening – and the managers; and few doubted that they deserved what they got.
Many of those same dancers, chorus, cast, and set members remained that had been there four years ago; watching the former Phantom walk up the stairs and across the stage was like a scene from one of their plays.
Needless to say, Erik was nothing like what they had expected. His tall, graceful, lean form climbed the side stairs and walked across the stage, toward Annette. He could feel the eyes on him, but he ignored them.
"Where are Gilles and Richard, I have finished the plays?"
His voice carried deeply into the dark corners of the auditorium and the sound resonated back to them, filling the entire area with its beauty.
"They are in the back office, near the dressing room."
Erik nodded his thanks and swept past her, he had left the mask off, preferring to allow everyone to see him as just a man with a deformity. Hammond had taught him that they would either accept him, or not – no matter what he did.
"Erik…" Annette called after him.
He stopped and turned toward her.
"Will you please introduce yourself to the performers?"
He looked around as though noticing them for the first time; he nodded his head and bowed it slightly.
"Yes, of course."
He came to stand beside her, tall and roguish. He smiled at them, choosing to ignore the nervous twitter in his stomach.
"I am Erik Lacroix, the former Phantom of the Opera – as I am sure you have all been made aware."
He paused, assessing every set of eyes that looked his way. Christine came onto the stage and walked up to him.
"I am the Artistic and General Manager of the Opera Populaire, as well as being the financier. If you have any questions pertaining to the purchase of supplies, costumes, sets, or other items, please send a requisition through the Business Managers, Richard Firmin or Gilles André and I will do my utmost to see that those items are procured."
The approving chatter that reached his ears made him feel better about taking on this huge responsibility. He dismissed himself and headed off the stage, with Christine and Annette riding his heals. Before he could fully remove himself, Annette had to ask a question.
"You leave tomorrow morning, do you not?"
Erik sighed deeply and squared his shoulders, "Yes, I have asked that Tarrah accompany me so that the young lady will have someone with whom to talk."
Annette chuckled and glanced at Christine, "Did it ever occur to you that she might want to talk to you?"
His shocked look was almost too good to not laugh at, but Annette held her poise.
"About what?" He asked.
She did giggle at those words, "Erik…" she rested her arm against his elbow, "…she is to be your wife; do you not think that it would be wise to get to know her?"
"Get to know her?" he repeated, with added emphasis. "Why should I get to know her…that entails actually speaking civilly to one another – which I doubt she will be keen on doing, as she is being forced to marry me!"
"Give her a chance Erik." Annette pleaded, trying to calm his rising irritation.
He chuckled bitterly, "I doubt that she will return the same to me."
He turned to walk away, hoping to find a straight path to Gilles and Richard. However, as luck would have it, Christine chose that moment to saunter up to him and hug him.
"Thank you, Erik, for all that you are doing to save the opera house."
For a few moments, Erik could not respond to her strange show of affection. She had always seemed terrified of him – or maybe it all been in his mind.
"You are welcome, Viscomtess, I do intend to restore it to its former glory…" he looked up and saw that all eyes were on them, "…with the help of everyone on this stage – and those who are in the background – we can make the Populaire the most famous of opera houses once again."
The few that remained, on the stage and around it, applauded and Erik bowed his head, slightly – moving out of her embrace. He had not meant to draw attention to himself, but he had realized in the last couple of years, that it happened anyway.
He dismissed himself and glided from the stage in search of Gilles and Richard. Christine watched him go and smiled.
He has come a long way in four years, and this woman - whoever she is – is a lucky woman.
Her thoughts made her smile, but Christine felt the loss profoundly. Her Angel no longer looked at her as though the sun rose in her path and the earth rotated around her. His beautiful, pure eyes no longer adored her as they had. He had moved on.
It would be hard to watch this other woman be with him; hard to watch her touch him and adore him – for Christine had no doubt that she would. Erik was going to be her husband; that alone added a sense of intimacy that afforded her more of him than Christine had ever dared to take.
The knot in her throat was hard to swallow, but she managed, and left the stage to change into her regular clothes. She would have to find the chance to talk to him later.
Of course, it would have been easier if Erik were not purposefully putting distance between them. He did not know what feelings, if any, Christine had for him – and he was not sure he wanted to know. He just knew that it was best for everyone if he stayed away.
He lurked in the shadows, the Phantom once again, and watched her pace the floor as though waiting for someone. It was not long before someone emerged through the door and she ran to him.
All I ever wanted was for her to be happy, and she is; even if music is not going to be a part of her life as I had envisioned it to be. She was meant for grander things – she is nobility now.
Erik watched with a fatherly gaze as she greeted the handsome figure of her husband. They made quite a pair, Erik had to admit; she was elegant and graceful – moving beside him as though made for that sole purpose - and Raoul was regal and noble, standing straight and proud beside her – two beautiful people.
They will make beautiful babies together and live a life worthy of their status. I must not ever interfere; I have made a fool of myself in the past – it will never happen again.
The thought of her pregnancy brought a smile to his lips, and he pictured her with a child in each arm and another at her feet; two blond, perfectly handsome young boys – looking just like their father – and a brown haired, brown-eyed girl with a voice like an angel.
How I would love to watch their children grow and for one of them to possess her voice…to mold and cultivate that gift...to give my music to a young child as my legacy to this world…
Deep inside, he knew it was an impossible dream. Raoul still despised the very sight of him, although the young aristocrat was doing a fine job of disguising it. There would be no children in his future…the thought saddened him more than anything he had ever known.
Erik shook his head and heard the mocking, callous voice of loneliness ridicule and laugh at him. His thoughts had carried him to a place he tried to avoid, a place where the hope of something other than loneliness awaited him.
Tarrah would be his gift to the world – his offering. She would carry on the knowledge and beauty of his music for another generation; for that, he was grateful.
The longer he thought about it, the more he desired just one child – one small miracle – boy or girl, to whom he could bequeath his legacy. Perhaps, if he promised her the world, Lavanya would allow him to get her with child – if he promised never to touch her again.
Did he have the courage to ask this of her? It would be humiliating if she turned him down…degrading and humiliating….but did he have the courage?
♦♥♣♠
That night, lying in his bed, Erik had no idea that his bride-to-be was thinking about him with as much curiosity and interest as he was thinking about her.
They each had their reservations and regrets; neither of them ready for what was to come, but eager to make a new life in whatever way they could.
Erik was terrified of rejection and failure; once again returning to the abysmal muck that had been his life for so many years. He feared the look in her eyes when she first gazed upon him…for the mask was no longer a formal part of him…its vulgar mockery had turned him into a lunatic once; it would never have that power again.
Lavanya was terrified of a cage; of being bound to a dreadfully awful man who had no beauty to him at all. She wanted a man she could make smile and laugh – a man who melted from her touch and who longed to hear the sound of her voice every day. She wanted him to watch her dance and be unable to keep his hands off her. She wanted to be needed - not shuffled aside for grander things.
At that moment, they were sharing secret smiles.
Lavanya thought about the look that would be in his eyes as he raked them over her curves and watched her swirl toward him – just beyond his reach. The movements of her hips and the seductive language of her hands would be enough to drive him wild with passion and she would long for him in the same manner.
The more she thought about it, and the closer the time came, Lavanya realized she was excited about this marriage. Sharad had promised that Erik was a good man – made of good character and honorable; his looks really did not matter. If he allowed her to dance, further her education, and be herself – she would make him a good wife – in every way.
Erik thought about the pleasant prospect of having a woman in his home; someone to share interests and ideas with; a wife with whom he could possibly have a baby – an idea that elated him. However, at the same time, it petrified him.
He would try to keep his heart out of it; but Erik had found, in the recent past, that he had little control over such things. If she ever allowed him to touch her in such a way, he would be her slave…he already knew this.
Too bad hearts didn't come with chastity belts.
TBC