DARK SIDE OF THE GLASS
CHAPTER 44
Anya hurried out of the bathroom upon hearing the news and began getting ready to leave. Erik watched her from beneath his sable lashes; leaning against the frame of the door with an amused, quirky grin on his face.
"You know that these things can take hours Anya…there is no need to rush."
She continued to move quickly, ignoring the alluring pull of his voice.
"Come on, Erik…get ready, we need to leave."
Erik did not move, but remained rather firm and unmoving – staring at her as though she had grown another head.
Anya did not realize he was not moving until she glanced back up and frowned at him.
"What are you doing?"
He chuckled, annoyingly, and still did not move.
"Erik!"
"I see no reason for me to go, Anya…what would I do?"
She halted in front of him, thrust her eyes rather abruptly up to his, and frowned.
"What do you mean you are not going?" She asked, almost giving in to the urge to kick him in the shins.
Erik found it rather difficult to look her in the eyes and began to squirm beneath her impudent stare.
"Erik…" her voice softened when she saw the uncertainty in his eyes and the fleeting sweep up pain that crossed his features, "…Christine wants you there to share in this moment of joy…I know she does."
He shook his head in disagreement and finally moved to the bed; he fell back onto it and clasped his hands behind his head.
"It is best that I stay here." He murmured.
She crossed the room rather quickly, stood over his head, and stared boldly down at him.
"Is your hesitancy due to the injury from which you have not quite recovered, or because you still doubt the sincerity of people who call themselves your friends?"
It never failed to surprise him how intuitive she was about his emotions and inner thoughts.
His failure to answer spoke volumes and Anya leaned down and kissed his forehead; caressing his exposed scars with the smooth tips of her fingers as she did so.
"Trust me, my love." She whispered.
Erik opened his soulful, dark eyes and smiled dolefully.
"I trust you implicitly, Anya; it is just that I am not sure how tolerant Raoul would be of my presence…I have no right to be there."
"Raoul respects you, Erik…he admires how far you have come in your life and the obstacles you have overcome. He knows how much you mean to Christine and how much she means to you."
He was unusually quiet for a few moments and then quietly stated, "I just do not want to push myself on them...in any way."
"You are not, Erik...please believe this."
He nodded and got up off the bed, making his way toward the closet to change his clothes.
"I will go summon the carriage, meet me downstairs."
Erik nodded once again, but stopped her just short of the door.
"Have I told you how much I love you?" He asked softly, caressing her features with the touch of his eyes.
She smiled, rose to the tips of her toes, and kissed him on the mouth; sucking his bottom lip into her mouth for effect.
"You have…and what is even better, you have shown me how much you love me."
She winked at him and walked out the door, leaving him to dress and meet her in the carriage.
♥♦♠♣
It seemed like hours had gone by and the doctor still had not come out. Raoul paced the floor and Phillip counted the paces…both of them anxiously awaiting any news about Christine and the baby.
"Does it normally take this long?" Raoul asked, not expecting an answer from anyone in the room.
"That depends, how long has she been in labor?"
Raoul stopped pacing long enough to see Erik and Lavanya coming through the door. Erik had lost his trepidation over the situation and was determined to be of whatever use he could be to Raoul during this time…after all, the boy had been there with him when he lost D'Ombre and when he had almost lost his life.
Erik had posed the question and, in answer; Raoul shrugged his weary, burdened shoulders.
"I honestly have no idea – it seems like forever."
He slumped into a nearby chair, swept his hand through his ash blond hair, and then rubbed his face as though warding off the sluggishness that came with having not gotten enough sleep.
Erik gave his shoulder a slight squeeze and sat down in the chair that was beside him.
"Raoul, you probably wonder how I know some of the things I know…but do not forget that I am a well traveled man; I have witnessed many things." He sat back, but his elbow on the arm of the chair, and leaned toward the younger man.
"Labor is a relentless and lengthy affair, especially when it is the first baby."
Raoul was full of anxious energy, but his body was not cooperating. He trembled from head to toe and his eyes darted about as though watching an invisible rat scurry around in a cage.
"Raoul, she will be fine…let the doctor do his job."
"How do you know all this, Erik…I am just curious?" Raoul finally asked.
"The years I spent in the gypsy camp and as a slave in India were full of opportunities to watch and learn…and later, to help…." He leaned back against the chair and crossed his long, elegant legs. "….I was able to learn many things under the tutelage of Madam Russo in the gypsy camp…she was an amazing medicine woman."
It seemed that Erik had captivated his audience with another story of his past; things he had never considered important or interesting were suddenly the most enticing things to hear.
"In India, I was able to assist several of the female slaves as they gave birth…there was no doctor for them…they either lived or died as they labored on their own."
Anya gasped upon hearing this, and was appalled that such behavior was practiced in her country.
"I said all that, to say this…Christine could be in labor for hours, or it could only last a short time…no one really knows…." Erik leaned forward and slapped Raoul's knee, jostling the young man out of his dreary state of mind. "…the important thing is that you are here for her."
Raoul immediately stood up and turned to Anya.
"Christine was asking for you earlier, you may want to go to her." Anya nodded and headed toward the birthing room, "Lavanya…." Raoul stated, she looked at him and smiled, "…tell her that I love her and that Erik is here…she will want to know."
She quickly entered the room and disappeared behind the closed door. Erik took a moment to assess Raoul's condition, decided that the boy was extremely antsy, and needed to calm down.
"Come Raoul, walk with me."
"But Christine…"
"We are only walking the perimeter of the house, we will be within earshot."
Raoul actually welcomed the change of scenery; he was quickly losing the battle he was waging with his nerves and needed a distraction.
They walked without talking for a few minutes, enjoying the mild weather and noting the display of playful spring flowers blooming in the gardens.
"Tell me, boy…why is it important to Christine that I be here for this?"
Raoul chuckled at his use of "boy", releasing a little bit of the pent up anxiety inside him.
"Erik…have you not discovered how much she loves you? You are like a protective brother, a doting uncle, and a loving father – all rolled into one man. The same man who just happens to have taught her to sing and encouraged her to be a headstrong and intelligent woman."
Erik stared strangely at Raoul, regarding him as though he had suddenly sprouted horns.
"She still holds me in such esteem…how can she - after what I put you both through?"
Raoul did not look at him as they continued to walk and talk.
"Everyone makes mistakes, Erik…and you have more reason than most to be bitter...and more than a little bit angry with the world."
More silence ensued, and they made it back to the front door.
"Nonetheless, please accept my apologies." Erik humbly offered, "I find I have no need for anger or hidden agendas anymore."
"What are you going to do, Erik…about Russia and your father's legacy?"
They once again stood in front of Phillip – but someone else had joined the waiting circle.
Vallatina de Changy seemed to have materialized out of thin air; in fact, the snooty tilt of her chin and the persnickety twist of her thin lips led Erik to believe that she had actually done just that.
"Mother." Raoul groaned.
"Raoul, I came as quickly as I could…" she swept her eyes over Erik's tall figure and lifted a gray brow, "…and what is he doing here?"
Raoul rolled his eyes, gritted his teeth, and clenched his fists.
"Erik is here because both Christine and I asked him to be here."
She scoffed and pulled off her proper gloves and then removed her ridiculous bonnet.
"Why would she need him here…he is beneath her station and nothing to her."
The words came forth in a demanding way, as though someone should have heeded her words and thrown him off the premises.
Raoul and Phillip both looked as though they wished to be swallowed up in a large, deep hole, but Erik simply chuckled and shook his head.
"Mother, do you ever read the newspaper?" Phillip asked incredulously. "This man, whom you so rudely insulted, is a high-ranking nobleman in the Russian aristocracy."
Vallatina, for her part, seemed utterly shocked. Her jaw dropped and she seemed speechless – a feat that would have been an answer to prayers; but she soon recovered.
"Really, how very interesting." She murmured; dropping her eyes and looking away.
There was little else she could say, or she would incriminate herself.
"Mother, why are you here?"
She lifted her chin once again and finally looked at Raoul with her normal confidence restored.
"My first grandchild is about to come into the world, I belong here."
Raoul sighed in frustration and walked over to her.
"With all that you had in you, you tried to break Christine – even after we were married – why do you presume that she even wants you here?"
It was as though a torrential rainstorm had swept through and suddenly landed on Vallatina de Chagny. Tears poured down her face and her shoulders shook from the force.
"Please, my son, forgive me for my past behavior…and I shall ask the same of Christine…" she smiled, something Raoul had rarely seen her do. "…she is such a sweet child, she will forgive me and we can start over."
She turned to Erik and tentatively approached his looming figure.
"Forgive me, my lord…and I do not ask simply because you are of noble birth…." the sparkle in her eyes seemed sincere and Erik found himself softening toward her, "…I have been exceptionally callous toward you and your lovely wife."
Erik nodded down at her and lifted the side of his mouth in an acknowledging smirk.
"I am also a product of my environment…I grew up in a household where those who were considered beneath us were not tolerated in anything other than servant roles…" she explained, "…and then I met Loring."
That was all she needed to say; the love she had for her husband was evident in the warmth of her eyes and softness of her voice.
It was moments later when a messenger delivered an urgent note to Dr. Chevelle, the doctor tending Christine.
Raoul sent the note up the stairs via Blanche, wondering what the content was.
Dr. Chevelle descended the stairs not long after, carrying his medical bag and holding a constrained scowl on his face.
"Doctor, where are you going?" Raoul asked, with panic rising in his voice.
"I have been called to another patient whose situation has suddenly turned dire." He stated, glancing down at his pocket watch. "The Vicomtess is not proceeding quickly and I fear that it will be some time before this baby is born…I must tend to this patient."
He donned his hat and walked through the open door, "I sent a message to my young colleague, Dr. Monét; he will be here as soon as possible."
Raoul watched the doctor leave and suddenly felt very alone.
♣♦♥♠
Lavanya sat with Christine on the large birthing bed; the exhausted young woman's head was in her lap and Lavanya smoothed her hair back and out of her eyes.
"You are doing fine, mere dost (my friend)."
Christine opened her eyes and gave a tired smile.
"Thank you for being here."
"Where else would I be?"
Christine bit back the pain that washed over her with another contraction. Lavanya helped her through it, dabbing her forehead with a damp cloth and keeping her calm.
"Where is Annette?"
Christine once again opened her eyes and smiled, "She is not feeling very well…just a slight sniffle and scratchy throat, she sent word that she would not be here."
"Tarrah is on her way, she had a rehearsal to attend…." Lavanya assured her, "…but she will be here."
A young, inexperienced looking man walked in carrying a medical bag and looking as nervous as a cat in a room full of rocking chairs.
Christine frowned at him after the last wave of contractions released her…giving him the distinct feeling that she did not approve of him.
"Where is Dr. Chevelle?"
"He had an emergency surgery to tend to…I will be acting in his stead."
He barely looked old enough to have any experience in the medical field, let alone be attending a birthing.
"I am Doctor Baltíc Monét."
He bowed to Christine, who eyed him with suspicion; and then to Lavanya, who bowed her head back to him.
"You look very young, Doctor…I am sorry if we seem a bit put off." Lavanya apologized.
He smiled nervously and proceeded to unpack his bag.
"Actually, after the interrogation I just underwent at the demands of a very intimidating and obviously intelligent masked man, this is quite pleasant."
Lavanya and Christine both chuckled, leaving the man to look rather lost.
"That would be my husband, Erik; Christine is like a sister to him."
Baltíc nodded and let out a long breath, "That would explain it."
"How far did Dr. Chevelle get with the examination…has he checked the baby's position in the birth canal?"
Christine shook her head.
"I am not sure why he has not, but I must check that first…to make sure that all is in place."
The examination was routine; for the most part; but the young doctor's face seemed rather strained as he proceeded through it. He did not say anything, not at first; but continued to poke and prod in various places.
"My lady…I am concerned with the position in which the baby appears to be…the head has not turned to the downward position."
Christine was not sure what he was telling her, but Lavanya seemed concerned.
"Excuse me…" he nodded, "…I need to speak with your husband about this."
The young doctor left the room in search of Raoul.
TBC