To clarify...I am not trying to indicate that all homosexual men are demented and evil - just Pieter and Yves. I ask forgiveness if I implied that in my last chapter.
Now, moving on.
I have added some new pictures in my profile...some Indian styles that you can imagine for Erik and Lavanya's wedding attire. Enjoy.
DARK SIDE OF THE GLASS
CHAPTER 25
Several days later
A she-devil - that is what she was. Erik was convinced that Lavanya had been sent to earth for the sole purpose of driving him to an early grave.
He watched her from beneath his long, sable lashes and through guarded, austere eyes; he noticed her easy manner toward Tarrah, and even toward Annette and Christine.
It was a nightmare – of monstrous proportions. The three women who knew him better than anyone in the world, were talking to the one woman who would soon hold power over him; the thought made him shudder.
For one moment in time – however brief it would turn out to be – he would be one-half of a sacred constitution – a marriage. She would carry his name and have his protection – both through the bond of matrimony; something Erik took very seriously.
His name had been bestowed on him by the only woman to love him unconditionally….his mother; that is, until Tarrah came along. He had once entertained the idea of marriage to Christine; but that, thankfully, was not to be.
His protection had never been granted before – no one had ever wanted it; and now, it was demanded of him. His honorable nature – something most would doubt even existed – would not allow him to back down from his promise to Sharad. He would do what was asked of him.
He watched her glide across the floor, walking like an angel beside Annette and Tarrah – and Christine was walking behind them. They were planning the wedding, he knew this, but as carefree and pleasant as she was around them; she was just the opposite around him.
Tarrah caught him out of the corner of her eye, heading for the door. He was dressed for riding in his tall, leather riding boots, black riding pants and jacket, and a white, French ruffle shirt.
"Erik…where are you going?"
His head shot up as he heard his name and his frown disappeared – if only for a moment.
"I am taking D'Ombre out; he has not been ridden for a few days."
He disappeared through the large, maple door, leaving them to wonder why he was in such a sour mood.
"I suppose it is a good thing that he did not see this morning's paper…that sour mood would be quite bitter if he had."
Tarrah scanned the pages of the paper for the article to which Annette referred.
The Phantom Takes a Bride
Who said that love at first sight does not exist? I beg to differ with anyone who says such things. Our beloved Erik Lacroix, better known as the former Phantom of the Opera, is to wed.
Yes ladies, he has been spoken for.
There is very little known about the lady, accept that she is ravishing, exotic, and as independent as they come – a perfect match to his rakish good looks and strong, stubborn nature.
The couple will wed in a quiet ceremony in an undisclosed place, preventing any further speculation on the part of this reporter. I am sure they will be seen about Paris, although Monsieur Lacroix has skillfully avoided the public eye since he arrived three weeks ago.
I hope that this new woman will coax him out of the prison of his manor and into the public, where we all know he should be.
Congratulations to the happy couple!
Stefan Cassius
Lavanya reread the article, a tiny bit miffed about the leakage of the news, but pleased to have all of Paris in an uproar over their upcoming nuptials.
"Do you really think he will be upset?"
Tarrah rolled her eyes and scoffed jestingly, "Oh ye', he will be quite displeased. He is a veery private person an' no' keen on the idea of havin' people in 'is business; the fact that someone let the news out will make 'im veery annoyed."
Lavanya was quiet for a moment and had to speak her thoughts.
"Is he ashamed of me?"
They quickly quelled that notion, and Annette spoke in her most matronly voice.
"Not at all, Lavanya, it is quite the opposite, I assure you. He is ashamed of himself." Lavanya frowned upon hearing that and Annette smiled reluctantly, "You have certainly figured out by now how he feels about himself…he does not want your life to be difficult because of being associated with him…" Annette shook her head in calm disgust at that notion, "…in fact, he says that same thing about all of us."
Lavanya frowned at such nonsense. The way Erik treated himself was far worse than anything she had ever witnessed before; and she supposed she had not made it any better by being so unsure about the future.
"We have bickered many times over the past few days. He is quite strong willed and incredibly intelligent..."
The beautiful Indian woman bowed her head demurely and spoke very softly.
"He has not attempted to spark any sort of romance between us and is quite aloof – even when we are alone together."
Christine quietly cleared her throat and smiled solemnly. She came forward and stood directly in front of Lavanya.
"If I know anything about my Angel…" she saw their brows lift at her use of that name, "…I mean Erik…" she corrected, "…it is that he will not think about courting you in any way. He believes I rejected him because I found him less than worthy of my affections and, no doubt, feels that every woman will feel the same."
A flare of fury lit Tarrah's blue eyes and she stiffened her back in a defiant stance. She had always wondered what had transpired between Erik, Raoul, and Christine in the bowels of the opera house four years ago.
"Is that not how you felt?"
There was an inkling of bitterness in Tarrah's tone, but she was willing to hear what Christine had to say. Lavanya seemed perturbed also, anxious to hear the truth.
Christine shook her head emphatically, walked over to a chair, and sat down. Her back was beginning to ache and her ankles were swelling – and Raoul refused to let her out of the house very much – insisting that it just was not proper for a pregnant woman to be seen; she was thankful he had allowed her to come to this little get together.
Lavanya rushed to her and pulled another chair over for her to put her feet up.
"Are you in need of food or drink?"
Christine caught Lavanya's hand and squeezed it affectionately.
"No, thank you…I just need to rest." She caught Tarrah's eyes and smiled, then did the same to Lavanya, "My feelings for Erik have never been romantic – at least not wholly – I will admit that he is seductive and enchantingly handsome, but by the time he started to pursue me, my heart belonged to Raoul."
Tarrah raised her chin and allowed a little bit of the animosity she felt toward the diva regress.
"I never meant to hurt him or indicate to him that he was unworthy in any way, because – truth be told – I was the one who felt unworthy." Christine breathed deeply to calm her nerves, the baby was kicking unmercifully against the inner wall of her womb and she that strange sensation occupied her thoughts. "I felt unworthy of his attention, his talents, his devotion – everything."
She looked back at Lavanya with pleading eyes, "These are things I have wanted to tell him for weeks and have not had the opportunity – he is avoiding me as though I have the plague."
Lavanya felt no jealousy toward the young woman nor did she feel threatened. It was clear to her that Erik had no more hidden desire for her and she had never had designs on him.
"I want to know why he thinks this way about himself." Lavanya walked gracefully toward the large table where they were making her wedding plans, "I have encountered numerous people whose deformities and scars were far worse than what his are, and they all live perfectly normal lives with as much love and passion as anyone else."
Tarrah and Annette both started to answer, but Tarrah bowed to the older woman.
"You will have to ask Erik about his past – he is not very forthcoming with the details that would explain his self-defamation – but I think he will open up if we simply ask."
Meg had been mostly listening, but one thought really baffled her. She did not know Erik that well, but she found him to be an interesting and attractive man; however, she was not sure she could do what Lavanya was doing.
"You seem rather happy to be marrying Erik, although you continuously argue with him and do not know him that well."
Lavanya smiled, realizing that her behavior did appear quite odd.
"In India, I was going to be forced to marry a weasel of a man – a titled pig that was going to use me as a bargaining chip. He preferred little boys to women…" every woman gasped at the forbidden subject, but Lavanya went on as though unaware of their shock, "…my life would have been forfeit if that had come to be."
"What happened?" Meg asked, completely engrossed.
"My brother got me out by sending me to Erik…a man he had known several years ago, but who had made quite an impression on him…" Lavanya paused, passing her eyes over every face that stared back at her, "…I have seen the honor and integrity that Erik possesses – and I have seen his darkness – the temper, the self-hatred, his tendency to push people away. There is a man worth saving hidden underneath the layers of abuse and neglect…I will find that man, little by little, if need be."
Annette grasped her hands together and carried them to her face, leaning against them and smiling brightly.
"I have prayed for a woman to come along with the strength, determination, and desire to fight Erik's demons with him – even for him….I believe that you are that woman."
Lavanya looked around suspiciously, making sure there were no men present before she continued.
"I am going to demand that we not consummate the marriage immediately…I want him to feel comfortable around me and be able to be himself before we go that far."
They said nothing, so Lavanya continued, "I want him to take me out with him, be seen with me and feel proud to be who he is. He is such a brilliant man; I have seen his paintings and sculptures and I have heard that he is an astounding musician and composer."
"He is all of those things, and more." Annette countered, "He is also an accomplished architect and designer." She looked at Lavanya and arched a brow, "I doubt he expects any intimacy from you at all…he has indicated as much in our conversations…" Annette seemed unable to stop herself from revealing more, "…he had wanted a child so badly, but he took one look at you and knew it could never be."
Lavanya frowned deeply and felt a stab of pain through her heart.
"Why would he think that?"
Annette realized that she had said too much and Erik would be most displeased with her if he found out.
"I have to know Madam Giry…" Lavanya insisted, a look of desperation in her eyes, "…I must."
She took the younger woman's hands and they both sat down, sinking gracefully into the padded chairs.
"Child….it is so obvious to those of us who have known him for any length of time…" Annette looked away, knowing that she was probably going to regret saying anything, "…he swore to himself that he would never love again…that his heart would remain intact." her eyes locked with Lavanya's and the younger woman knew what she was going to say. "He had convinced himself that there would be no way for you to penetrate his defenses…he was immune."
Lavanya felt rare tears filling her eyes; she was not a woman that gave into the need to cry on a regular basis…she was strong and had always prided herself on being such.
"He cannot keep his eyes off you and his heart is already in it…you are the most beautiful woman he has even seen and it was love for him – from the very beginning"
Lavanya swept the unwanted moisture from her cheek and shook her head, not fully understanding.
"Why would this prevent us from having a baby – I would think that love is something he would want?"
Annette chuckled nervously and continued to look into the eyes of the younger woman.
"He has no problem loving…but he does not expect love in return." She explained. "He will not touch you because he feels unworthy of doing so and because he knows you do not feel the same about him." Annette noticed a slight change in Lavanya's brow and started to speak again, but Christine asked for her.
"Do you, Lavanya….do you love Erik?"
Lavanya looked at each woman who regarded her with curious anxiety. They had all become her friends in the week since she had arrived.
"I do not know what love is…I have never known it…" She explained, "…I do know that I am very attracted to him and that when I see him my stomach does this strange fluttering and I get strong, heated yearnings in odd places."
Lavanya suddenly stood and began pacing the floor with slow, deliberate steps.
"I know that I cannot wait to taste his lips and feel his hair between my fingers…" she stopped for a moment and looked straight at Christine, "…is that love?"
Christine smiled and nodded her head, "It sounds like it to me…does he invade your dreams and do you hear his voice even when he is not around?"
Lavanya smiled and nodded.
"Do you catch a wisp of his cologne in the air and close your eyes at the wonderful sensation it gives you?" Annette asked - her eyes locked in another time.
Lavanya shook her head deeply and her eyes grew large with emphasis.
"I believe you do love him, Lavanya."
"Well, I am glad we have established that, but I do not feel that he will believe my words…I must show him what love is – day by day – and allow him to discover it for himself." Her eyes twinkled and she winked at all of them, "…and when it happens, it happens."
They all agreed to help her in whatever way they could and they agreed that it would not be an easy road…but one of great discovery.
Annette threw her arms up in mock annoyance, "Now, back to the business at hand, do you want a traditional French gown or an Indian gown?"
Lavanya smiled and took a moment to run upstairs to her room. She quickly came back holding the most beautifully designed outfits.
"This is my wedding attire…a Salwar Kameez…the traditional dress of my country."
The design was exquisite. Annette recognized the material she had purchased in Marseilles before they had caught the train back to Paris.
"It is lovely, Lavanya – is this what you have been working on?"
"Yes…I wanted to make our wedding attire…I also made Erik's."
She held up the most beautiful outfit any of them had seen. The softest, black material created a long shirt that would hang to his knees. The material was intricately interwoven with shimmering gold threads and the effect was elegant and masculine. There was also a pair of pants made from the same material.
"He will look stunning…no doubt…how did you get his measurements?" Tarrah breathed.
"Mr. Tibbs has been a great help…he gave me the measurements from Erik's black formal wear; that was all I needed."
Lavanya was pleased that they all seemed to like her clothing.
"Now, I will need help to prepare myself for the wedding…there are a great many details that must be taken care of, and I cannot do them on my own."
Meg and Tarrah were eager to volunteer. They were just waiting to see what she needed them to do.
The afternoon passed with more talk about Erik's past and the wonderful attributes he possessed.
Tarrah leaned over and whispered in Lavanya's ear, just before the evening came to a close.
"Just wait until ye see 'im withou' a shirt – nice…veery nice!"
♦♣♥♠
Nothing made Erik feel more alive than to ride atop his faithful steed and pound the countryside with the sound of thundering hooves. Erik loved the freedom that he felt with D'Ombre beneath him, moving through the cool air with gentle ease.
He had removed his mask before leaving and the feel of the morning mist felt therapeutic against his skin. The wind whipped through his hair, undoubtedly working it into tiny knots that would be murder to remove later…but Erik did not care.
He reached the farthest most corner of his property and dismounted. He wandered over to the small brook that babbled playfully, crouching down to watch the water dance over the rugged rocks, slowly wearing them down to smooth, soft pebbles.
D'Ombre nudged him on the shoulder, wanting attention – even though he was not quite over Erik leaving him to venture to France in the first place.
"What do you want?" Erik fussed. "You do not know anything more about women than I do, so do not poke your big nose into my business."
The stallion neighed in response to Erik's chastising; nibbling gently on the fabric of his shirt.
"Stop it, you cretin…you will make a hole in this shirt and I shall have to turn you into glue."
Erik smirked as the horse moved away slightly, bending his head to partake of the lush, green sprigs of grass bolting through the cool, moist ground.
"I cannot do it, D'Ombre…I cannot ask her to bear my child. I thought I could somehow rustle up the courage…but I do not seem to have it in me."
Erik was certain he would lose his nerve when the chance actually presented itself. He was a complete novice in the ways of love – for a man of considerable intelligence and common sense, he knew nothing about romancing and seducing a woman – he did not even think he could accomplish such a thing.
"I am certain she would have to be attracted to me for such a thing to happen…" he answered his own thoughts aloud, "…I am equally certain that will never happen."
He spoke to the horse, he spoke to the wind, he spoke to the babbling brook – he did not care that none of them understood him; it just helped to release his thoughts and doubts on unbiased, non-judgmental ears.
He suddenly missed his mother, very much. She had been a source of comfort and peace when he was small; holding him close to her bosom and crooning in his ear. She had had the most beautiful voice; a voice she had used to lull him to sleep at night – above the chatter and muffled sounds of sex coming from the bordello beneath them.
Loneliness had always been a part of him; ever since he had been ripped from his mother's dead arms at the ripe age of five…would he ever be rid of it?
There were brief moments when he was next to Lavanya that he felt something akin to comfort and peace – although, he did not understand why. It seemed they were always bickering about something. The conversation would start out friendly enough, but he would unknowingly say something that offended her, or sparked her anger in some way.
"She is certainly a breath of fresh air…a woman who speaks her mind and does not cower from me like a scared lamb."
He smiled to himself, surprised at how much he enjoyed her genuineness. D'Ombre chose that moment to nudge him again, alerting Erik to the impending rain that would begin falling at any moment.
"Alright, old boy, I know how much you hate the rain…." He rubbed the strong, smooth neck and rested his head against the horse's warmth. "…tomorrow I wed a woman who is more of mystery to me than any other…" he looked into the warm black eyes of his friend, "…and it terrifies me."
TBC