My beta, Mlle.Fox, is on vacation for the next couple of weeks...so this chapter - and the last remaining chapters - will not be proofed by her; so I must apologize ahead of time for any mistakes that are made. If you point them out to me, I will fix them.
Onward we go.
DARK SIDE OF THE GLASS
CHAPTER 41
Raoul was not sure what he was going to say or how he was going to say it. The events of the night had been cleared up and arrangements had been made…but he was left with a daunting task.
The thirty-minute carriage ride to the Chateau la Broughton seemed like an eternity and to make the night even more dismal, the rain was pounding against the night sky with a ferocious heaviness that left little visibility for the driver.
After they had removed the bodies, Raoul sat alone in the stillness, wondering what he could have done differently…where had it all gone so wrong?
They had taken Erik first, and Raoul had considered going with them; however, there was nothing more he could have done.
Now, as he stood in front of the beautiful fortress that Erik had rented for the women he loved…Raoul felt heavy of heart and sad of spirit; what waited behind that door was grief…and Raoul was not sure he was ready to face it.
♦♥♠♣
"Come now, Lavanya, you need to get some rest."
Annette was on her way to bed, when she happened to look into the sitting room and see Lavanya gently rocking back and forth on the over-stuffed divan…barely holding the tears back.
She sat beside her, hoping to guide the young woman to her room and get her to settle down.
"I will not sleep without him by my side, Annette…it cannot be done."
The frown that furrowed Annette's brow as she spoke, told Lavanya that she was also feeling the uncharacteristic dismay that seemed to have invaded them from the inside.
"I never thought I could miss one person so much in all my life…but I find that I am not even a complete being without him."
Annette rubbed her back in a motherly fashion and silently shook her head in agreement. Was Erik aware of how much this woman loved him? She prayed that he was.
"Come child, I am sure we will know more in the morning."
Lavanya started to protest, but was silenced by the crestfallen figure of Raoul standing just inside the door.
His eyes said it all.
Instead of collapsing to the floor, as he had expected, she held his gaze with eyes that suddenly seemed far older than she really was. She grasped his hands in a solid grip, her hands as cold as ice.
"I will know everything…everything, Raoul…spare me no details."
Her voice was wrought with unshed tears, but she refused to give into anything as permanent and absolute as grief.
"Lavanya, I do not think…."
"I must know…" she whispered, feeling a lump of dread gather in her throat, "…here and now."
He nodded slightly, closing his eyes to the searing sorrow he saw buried in her gaze.
Annette had sat down cautiously on the divan and covered he mouth with her hand. Her tears flowed freely and her quiet sobs drove a wedge into Lavanya's crumbling heart; without being told...she knew that Erik was gone.
It was her quiet sobs that drew Tarrah and Christine to the room and upon seeing Raoul and Lavanya's beleaguered expressions…they both turned from the room, covered their faces with their hands and wept.
It was some moments later that the women listened to Raoul explain what he knew to be the events of the evening.
"Erik had already been shot twice, when he pierced Yves' heart with his rapier dagger." Raoul stated. "He was unaware of this, until he had lost too much blood and his body just…gave up."
Lavanya, although trembling from the shock, looked Raoul square in the eyes and demanded his attention.
"He did not die alone…" she said beneath her breath – shaking her head in denial; she finally spoke louder; demanding an answer, "…please tell me he was not alone in the dark."
Raoul went to his knee, grasped her hand in his, and held it to his bowed forehead in an act of humility.
"No, my lady, he was in my arms…I caught him as he collapsed."
It was at that moment she gave way to the consuming pain in her heart and voiced the agony that had taken root in her soul.
"Erik...my love."
She whispered his name…the beauty of it was like a prayer upon her lips. She raised her mournful eyes and did not waver in her next request.
"I must see him…I want to see my husband."
"Lavanya…"
"I must, Raoul…" she stood firm with tears searing her cheeks, "...I simply must."
She stared him down, determined sorrow in her vivid green eyes.
"Very well, I will send the messenger and let the coroner know."
Lavanya thanked him, and sank to the floor - her legs no longer able to support her. She accepted the comforting arms of Tarrah and Christine...but knew that the only arms she longed to feel would no longer protect her - no longer carry her to worlds beyond this one in the quiet moments when love was the only language they needed.
Erik was dead - how would she ever live again?
♣♦♥♠
The messenger was sent on his way – and Raoul hoped to hear back from him in the next hour or so. Lavanya needed closure, and hopefully seeing Erik would bring that to her.
He had never felt so utterly devoid of energy in his entire life. He held Christine while she wept for her lost mentor…
….no, Erik was more than that to her…he was a lost love. Raoul knew that if her heart had been free at the time, she would have loved Erik in the same manner that she loved him…but now, having known the man that Erik was, that thought no longer vexed him.
Lavanya had slipped away quietly, to mourn in her room, not wanting publicly to give into the emptiness and ache that she knew would become a permanent part of her.
I am so thankful that I loved him fully before this happened…he knew love in its fullest.
She was curled up on the bed, feeling Erik's kisses and his hands as he made love to her so completely. Tears poured down her face at the thought of never again hearing his deep, melodic voice – never again seeing the passion dance in his stormy, sea green eyes – never again feeling his body move with hers in the most beautiful of rhythms.
It had only been days after finding him that she realized how much she had missed him in her life…although she had never met him. He was the beat of her heart, the shadow that cradled her in the night, and every breath that gave her life….she feared she would die without him.
The only thing that kept her heart from ceasing to beat from the loneliness and grief was the possibility that she carried his baby within her womb…a part of him to live on forever.
A soft knock on the door brought her head up off the pillow and ceased her thoughts.
"Enter."
Tarrah came into the room, still pale and drawn from the tears she had shed…Lavanya had held her and she had held Lavanya – but they had finally needed to grieve alone.
"Phillip is downstairs, Anya…he says he has very important news but will not say anything to any of us until he talks to you."
Lavanya hardly felt like receiving company, but she knew that Phillip was crushed also…he had not been here since they learned of Erik's death.
She rose from the bed and slid her tiny feet into a pair of slippers. She did not bother to assess her appearance; there was no one for whom she wished to look good.
♦♠♥♣
An hour or two ago…
"It is faint…but I hear it." The tall, gangly man announced to the others.
"I thought I heard it too, I was hoping I was not losing my mind….not yet." A shorter, stouter man agreed, rubbing his pointed beard.
"They pronounced him dead at the scene…those imbeciles!"
The third constituent did not seem to fit with the others, he was far more distinguished and his heavy accent made it quite clear that he had come from somewhere far away.
"We are all doctor's here…there is no need to be insulting." The tall one stated with a raised chin.
"I am not being insulting…" the accented one stated with an arrogant lift of his brow, "…I speak the truth."
He listened again for the heartbeat and sighed in relief. He nodded at the four other men that were in the room – four of the most influential and powerful princes in Russia.
"Once I remove the bullets and seal the wounds, he should heal quite well…but he has lost a great deal of blood."
They nodded, looking concerned but far less so than they had only a few moments ago.
The bullets were not difficult to remove with the patient passed out and oblivious to the pain that would have been excruciating otherwise. Dr. Yergi Sidarenka worked hard to make sure that his patient had the best care he could give him.
"I have done all that I can do, the rest is up to him."
"The scarring on his face…does it pain him?" One of the princes asked - he was a rather young man with severe features - but kind, deep, warm brown eyes.
Yergi shook his head and looked back down at his slumbering patient.
"No, the scars were already in place before he was born…the poison worked inside the womb of Bernadette and altered his appearance."
Once again, the four princes nodded, "So it will not affect any offspring he may sire."
"No, it will not."
Interrupting any other question that they may have asked, Phillip entered the room, carrying the messenger's request from Lavanya.
"I intercepted my brother's messenger on the street below...Lady Lacroix wishes to see the body of her husband."
After finishing his introduction, Phillip focused on the reclining, bandaged man lying in the bed directly in fron ot him; his mouth gaped open and the lines or sorrow that had laced his features….disappeared.
He ignored the imposing figures at the side of the room and the doctor, and rushed to Erik's side.
"He is not dead!"
Dr. Sidarenka crossed his arms over his barrel-sized chest, arched a thick, gray brow, and narrowed his steely blue eyes.
"Who are you?"
Phillip stood at Erik's side, relieved to find him alive, but concerned about the pallor of his skin.
"He is so pale…" Phillip lifted his eyes to the learned men in the room, "…it this normal?"
Not bothering to acknowledge the intruder, Yergi crossed the room remarkably fast for a man his size and stood his ground – staring pointedly up at Phillip.
"Young man..." he clipped, "….I asked you a question."
Phillips brows raised and he bowed his head in an apologetic gesture, "I am sorry…I am Count Phillip de Changy, I am courting Monsieur Lacroix's ward, Tarrah Sheldon."
The four princes, standing stoically against the far wall, began mumbling among themselves as Phillip threw them an inquisitive look.
"Who are they?"
Dr. Sidarenka rolled his eyes and stated in a bored tone, "Four of the most powerful princes from the provinces on Russia, they are here to make sure Lord Erik gets the proper care and recovers without incident so that he may claim what is rightfully his."
Phillip chuckled and shook his head, "If he hears anyone call him, 'Lord', he will likely make whoever says it regret it….he is not too keen on the idea of being nobility."
Phillip immediately went defensive, "Why did they not stop Yves from doing what he set out to do?"
Yergi shrugged his shoulders and looked wearily into Phillips young face, "They had to let the natural course of things take place and not alter the events…it was crucial that Erik prove his worth."
The disgusted look on Phillip's face made it quite clear how upset he was about their lack of involvement in preventing bloodshed.
"Our ways are not your ways…it all worked out in the end."
As though a light came on in his head, Phillips started quickly for the door; before he could make it out, he had a question.
"When will he awaken?"
"Perhaps today…perhaps tomorrow…" Yergi shrugged his shoulders once again, "…who knows?"
"My brother is telling Lavanya Lacroix that she is a widow - probably as we speak…"
Yergi shooed him off with a fatherly wave of his arms, "…then you best get over there and make things right…"
Before he could leave, one of the four princes stopped him with a firm hand to his arm, "Lord Demidov has a wife?"
Phillips frowned at his cryptic question.
"Yes…they are newly wedded…married only a few weeks ago."
They mumbled amongst themselves once again; and once they finished, faced Phillip with an annoying sureness in their eyes.
"We will go with you to meet Lady Demidov…we must speak with her."
Phillip shook his head and furrowed his brow.
"She has been grieving over his loss for the entire night…I will not allow you to go in there and just make things more complicated." Phillip demanded, "Let me handle it."
"Very well, but we will ride with you…we shall remain in the carriage until you send for us." They insisted.
Phillip held up his hand, stopping them.
"You will wait here, I will bring her to you after I let her know what is going on and tell her about you."
They reluctantly agreed and Phillip left. Every one needed to know…especially Lavanya and Tarrah…
…Erik lived.
TBC