ALL I KNOW OF LOVE

Erik and Christine are the creation of Gaston Leroux; the reference to Persia and some of its customs are derived from Susan Kay's book, "Phantom". All other characters and the backdrop of the story are the creations and property of GerrysJackie.

Some places and all names are fictional.

PLAYERS:

Erik – Gerard Butler - Perfect

Christine – The face and coloring of Zooey Deschanel (Failure to Launch, Elf) – and the body of Marilyn Monroe, except 3 inches taller

Gustav - Billy Connelly – Because I really like him.

Patrick Connelly - Paul Bettany – (A Knights Tale, Firewall, A Beautiful Mind)

Pascal – Mel Gibson's looks (slightly older with graying hair) with the cunning and cruelty of J.R. Ewing from "Dallas".

Madam Marie Forsythe – Miranda Richardson

James Lumpkin (the butler) – Daniel Davis (the butler from the TV show "The Nanny")

Kamilla – Georgie Henley (Chronicles of Narnia)

Duke Sergei Beauvais – Derek Jacobi (Underworld:Evolution)

Use your imagination on all others.

This story has taken a while to develop, but I hope it has been worth it. I have several chapters already written, but I am taking my time. There is humor, drama, and romance in this story, so I hope you will enjoy it.

This rendition of Erik is one of a man who has suffered greatly in his life, at the hands of just about everyone in his life, but his spirit is still intact. He is less self-loathing than others that I have written, but he is very much aware of his self-proclaimed faults. He is dangerous and ruthless, but has had enough of death and destruction. Women are still a mystery to him, and he needs a strong, independent woman who is his equal in every way.

This Christine is not a drop-dead gorgeous woman, but her beauty is less assuming and soft…Erik will see it.

I will try to update twice a week, depending on how quickly I write chapters. I don't anticipate this being a particularly long story, but we'll see.

Enjoy.

To answer a question posed in a review, Erik was 24 when he left Persia, and ten years have passed, which makes him 34. Christine is 25. The lack of reviews for the last chapter was disheartening, but I will forge onward.

CHAPTER 4 – Nothing Personal, Just Business

Merlot Region France, 1872, ten years later

Erik Rameau Laroque, Marquis of Merlot, rode in stately form atop his faithful, black Arabian stallion, Drago. The mist descended upon him in the morning stillness, allowing him to appreciate the shroud of mystery it provided around his dark presence.

The vast land of his estate stretched out in front of him, but the loneliness in his heart combined with the emptiness in this soul swallowed up any joy or pleasure his wealth should have provided.

He had maintained his lands and title through the war, thanks to the people of the Merlot Region. For ten years, he had fought and earned every ounce of respect he was due from those who called themselves his loyal subjects.

When the war came to his back door, Erik used his estate, the money his family had horded for years, and the strength of his sword, to feed those within his region. When other regions were experiencing civil unrest, the Region of Merlot was enjoying the food and shelter that its Marquis could furnish.

It hadn't been an easy time for Erik. He had unrest in his house that demanded his immediate attention. When Duke Sergei Beauvais paid a visit to the estate, Erik had been urged to take whatever means were necessary to ensure peace.

"You can't allow this to continue, Erik…you know this." Sergei had prompted. "You have turned the name of Laroque into a name worthy of respect again, and I know that you will continue to head this family and this region for many years."

"I will not kill my own father, Sergei…I have enough blood on my hands." Erik had retorted. "The humiliation I have suffered at his hands is personal; it does not affect my station, or my ability to run this region."

Sergei had watched the play of emotions cross the exposed side of Erik's face. "You still know nothing of your birth?"

Erik had said nothing, but that was all the affirmation that Sergei needed. He had walked up to the larger man and reassured him.

"My experience has taught me that the servants know more than we give them credit for knowing." Sergei offered, "I will do my best to find out what I can; all I know is that your parents abandoned you, I know nothing more."

Erik had watched him leave, knowing that the man would do all he could; he would have to talk to the servants, eventually, but the timing had never seemed right.

Erik tried to clear his mind, there was no sense dwelling on events in the past that would only cause bitterness and pain; what was done was done, and no amount of regret or sorrow could change that.

He had the loyalty and respect of the men of his guard and law enforcement. The population of Merlot and the surrounding provinces knew him to be fair in his judgment and quick but cruel in his punishment; a select few had crossed him and had paid the consequences.

What he had learned about his family from the records had been disturbing and alarming. He descended from a line of greedy, arrogant nobles who cared little about those they were supposed to protect; Erik was appalled.

Now, Erik felt the darkness of his family descending on him as he came to terms with what he was doing; he was forcing a woman to marry him without regard for her feelings or her rights. He really had no say in the matter, either, but Sergei would have relented had Erik insisted.

Erik shrugged off the feeling of guilt that clung to him. He marveled at the fact that he still possessed a conscience, but he had survived this long by ignoring the sentiments of that persistent, yet quiet voice that echoed in his mind.

She would adapt, as he had been expected to do when he was dropped into this world ten years ago. He wanted nothing from her except her ability to be a mother to Kamilla and Timotheus; a role he could not fill.

Pushing thoughts from his mind, the dark master drove the stallion relentlessly through the fog that covered the hillside and finally came to a stop inside the stables. Drago stomped his hooves, snorted his approval of the hard ride, and nudged the tall figure that now stood in front of him.

"Drago, old boy, you never fail to give me a thrill." Erik lulled, in soothing tones.

The proud stallion nodded his head as though he understood the words and Erik rubbed his nose lovingly. After a few moments of silence, Erik made his way out of the stables.

A tall, dark man stood just outside the stables and waited for Erik to finish with Drago. His folded arms came down to his sides and a soft smile graced his slightly aging face as Erik drew near.

"Kaveh, you look more disappointed in me than usual." Erik stated, accusingly, "What have I done now?"

Kaveh was a bit put out by Erik's tone, but brushed it off as a reaction to the days scheduled events, "You never disappoint me, Erik…I am concerned, that is all." Kaveh clarified.

Erik dropped his head and immediately regretted his terse words, "Forgive me, old friend."

Kaveh smiled and patted him on the shoulder, although he would have preferred to wrap an arm around his shoulder in support.

"The father is here, along with his solicitor, as you expected."

Erik cringed inwardly at the thought of having to deal with these people. He did not want this, any of it, but he was given little choice in the matter.

"What am I to do, Kaveh?" Erik bitterly asked. "I never wanted to marry the first time…never; now, I am to ruin another woman's life, just to save her family business, give my children a mother, and appease the request of Sergei."

The older man just frowned and nodded, "You hardly ruined Nicholle's life; she proved to be very capable of doing that herself."

Erik reflected on his friends words and that lifted knowing eyes, "I suppose you are correct…" he agreed, "…I hate this, Kaveh…I hate everything about it."

"May I suggest, my friend, that you tone the bitterness down a tad before meeting her father…I have never known you to be anything less than a gentleman." Kaveh advised.

Erik turned lethal eyes on Kaveh, "I don't feel very accommodating this morning, but I shall do my best."

Kaveh stood before him and placed both hands on Erik's powerful shoulders, "You can't help the course of events that have led up this moment, Erik." Erik raised his brow inquisitively as Kaveh continued, "Delancy Dock-Side is in need of the money you can offer for rebuilding and restocking, and you are in need of a proper wife – at least the Duke thinks so."

Erik's full lips turned up at the edges, which sufficed as a reluctant and rare smile, "I'm sure that allows this young lady to sleep better at night knowing she is coming into the beast's den to save her family business." It was Kaveh's turn to smile as Erik continued, "Anywhere I go it seems I am at another mans whim….I will do as the Duke has asked."

Kaveh watched his friend remorse over events he could not change. Erik had never known love in its truest form, but Kaveh had; he had fallen fast and heavy for a beautiful English woman within months of arriving in France. Sarah had been all he had ever wanted in a wife, but she had died, barely a year after they married, trying to bring his son into the world…he had lost them both.

Both men stared forebodingly into the tumultuous sky, dreading the events to come; there was a storm brewing on the horizon. Erik considered the irony of that and compared it to the storm he felt in his soul.

They trudged toward the large, ornate castle-like mansion; knowing that within its walls stood a man whose life had been torn asunder by one simple piece of paper.

He did not wish to appear harsh to this man, but Erik could not afford the luxury of compassion at this point. Duke Beauvais had insisted that Erik marry again, for the sake of the Laroque name and for the sake of pretenses. He wanted a proper wife to grace the halls of Vassadelle and Erik's arm.

His father had laughed hideously at the idea of his marriage.

"I've seen her; she's pudgy and dull…perfect for a beast like you." Pascal had remarked.

The hatred his father held for him cut Erik like a knife, Pascal had wasted no time in making sure that Erik knew how he felt. Since the Duke had stripped him of his title and holding, Pascal had been hostile and malicious, especially since the Duke had given the title and the holdings to Erik.

It was because of his father's stupidity and lack of self-control that Erik had ended up married in the first place.

Nicholle – just the thought of her caused a chill of pure agony to run up his spine. Never would another woman have the power to hurt him – never. He had thought himself in love with her…what a fool he had been.

Nicholle – light blond hair, topaz eyes, delicate frame – acid for blood and ice for a heart - Nicholle.

His father had pursued her ravenously, despite Erik's interest in her. So imagine Erik's supprise when Pascal insisted he marry her; unbeknownst to Erik, Pascal was playing him for the fool...Erik growled into the wind and shook the horrid memories from his mind.

Kaveh walked quietly beside him, knowing the heaviness that weighted Erik down. The humiliation he had suffered in Persia did not compare to the humiliation he had suffered at the hands of his own father.

The carriage parked on the cobblestone drive was proof that his guests had arrived and were awaiting his arrival; so, with the bad taste of bile in his mouth, Erik glided through the front door, removed his hat and riding coat, and headed toward the parlor.

James, the butler, lifted a brow at the irritated look on his master's face.

"My lord, proceeding into that room with such a dark countenance will no doubt bring about less than your desired outcome…"

James bowed, but the smirk was still upon his aging, but handsome features, "…Lord Erik, I have not been with you for these ten years only to better my skills as a butler; I tended the ravenous and debauched needs of your father before you…and you are a much better man than he could have ever deemed to be…" James was proud to be in the house of Laroque, for the first time in his entire tenure with the family, "…show them the man that I know you to be."

Erik had always valued James's advice and today was not exception. He had made it clear when coming to Vassadelle that he wanted his servants to feel free to speak to him anytime, and about anything.

"James, somehow you always keep me grounded." Erik remarked with a wink.

Kaveh opened the door to the drawing room and Erik elegantly swept through it. The two men stood as he entered the room and Erik moved slowly, but gracefully toward them. Their heads inclined, as a show of respect for his title, but Erik knew they would just as soon run him through with a rapier.

"You must be Gustav Delancy." Erik stated to the older man, shaking his hand firmly.

The man nodded, but his eyes never left Erik's face. Erik noticed that the man was only slightly shorter than he was; broadly built, had a head of thick, course, gray hair, and seemed to favor his left side.

The blue eyes that stared into him were honest and agonized; the mouth below them was stern and unsmiling. If Erik did not possess the fortitude that he did, he would have cowered beneath that unwavering stare.

"I had to meet the man who intends to go through with this charade of a marriage – why my Christine?" Gustav growled, knowing this man had the power, the means, and the backing to cast him into a lifetime of servitude for his insolence.

Erik turned his back to the man, no longer wanting to look into those searching eyes. He walked toward the large desk that filled the corner of the room and took a seat behind it, placing his hands in front of him.

When he spoke, his voice betrayed none of the raw emotions that were purging though his veins. The calm tone almost seemed foreign to him.

"Monsieur Delancy, I assure you – she will be well provided for and her every want and need will be met before she has a chance to ask for it."

The man scoffed at those words and leaned over the desk in a threatening stance, completely unafraid of this legendary man.

"She has all she needs in my household." Gustav challenged.

Erik stood to his commanding 6'3" height and squared his broad shoulders. He was a very intimidating figure and for a moment, Gustav faltered, but he quickly regained his countenance.

"Does she?" Erik challenged with cold, imperious eyes, "Then tell me, Monsieur, why it is that she is twenty-five and still unmarried…you should have found her a suitable husband years ago."

Gustav was unprepared for this line of questioning. He did not want this man to know that Christine was the son he never had; he did not want him to know that no man would have her because of her strong will, sharp mind, and unrefined beauty.

"I never found a man I thought was worthy of her." Gustav stated, hoping the man would understand the love he had for his daughter.

Erik did not respond immediately, but silently rubbed his chin and eventually leaned back in his chair. He had not wanted to know very much about his bride-to-be, none of that was important. It was a marriage in name only for the sake of his family honor, the Delancy shipping business, and for Kamilla and Timotheus, as he required – nothing more.

However, he had heard of her common features and sharp tongue, but he did not intend to engage in any stimulating conversations with her nor did he care what she looked like. Chances were that she would take one look at him and never want to be in the same room with him again.

"Fair enough…it appears that I am in need of a wife and you are in need of financial backing. The Duke has determined that your daughter will be the next Marchioness of Vassadelle as per your conversation several weeks ago pertaining to a certain plea for help." Erik stated, tersely.

With those words, it occurred to Gustav that this man was no more the willing groom, than Christine was the willing bride.

"My estate is drained, my lord, I have nothing to send with her; the war has been very costly." Gustav stated.

He looked around the greats halls of Vassadelle with rage in his eyes. This man hardly seemed affected at all.

"You seemed to have done well for yourself, despite the cost of war." Gustav seethed.

Erik smirked, dangerously, "I possess skills in architecture, art, and music that have helped to keep my estate in running order, and has allowed me to feed and house the people of the Merlot Region, Monsieur Delancy." Erik's voice was low and venomous, "Don't comment on that which you know nothing about."

Gustav had heard about a region in France's western border that had prospered under its leadership, but he had thought it was all a big hoax. It appeared, however, that he had been wrong.

He lowered his eyes and spoke apologetically, "Forgive me, my lord…I did not mean to offend." Gustav begrudgingly found himself liking this man. "May I ask my lord why he has it in his mind to marry a commoner…surely you could have any of the noble women available for marriage."

Erik laughed lightly, "I grow tired of noble women and my mentor, Duke Beauvais, arranged this marriage…as you can see by my visage, Monsieur Delancy, I am not the kind of man women are eager to marry."

Gustav could see how the mask might be intimidating and frightening to a woman, but the man was highly intelligent, elegant and graceful in his movements, and his exposed features seemed to be very attractive.

"My Lord, I can offer nothing for a dowry…I am completely drained." Gustav reported.

"Which is why I seek no dowry…this marriage will happen, Monsieur Delancy, with or without your approval, and it will happen tomorrow."

Gustav studied the tall, dignified man to whom he would surrender his daughter. The stories really did him no justice. He was quite tall and very well built. Midnight black hair lay flat against his head, reaching to just below his collar in the back and his arresting eyes were probably his most intense attribute.

The mask he wore was the only indication that the man had a flaw, of any kind. His visible features were angled, and ruggedly handsome with smoldering green/blue eyes, a full mouth, and a dimpled, strong jaw-line. He had an air of confidence underlined with exceptional intelligence – it was common knowledge that he was a genius.

"Will she be allowed to continue her studies?" Gustav asked, suddenly coming to the realization that this man could very well be the perfect husband for Christine.

Erik's perfect brow lifted and he cocked his head, regarding Gustav with amused interest, "What is it that she studies?"

"She particularly loves music and is an accomplished singer and violinist." Gustav announced, "She is highly intelligent and excels in math, science, and languages."

Erik was impressed. He stood and came around the desk to stand beside Gustav. He saw the depth of love in the man's eyes, a love that he longed to hold onto with every breath he took.

"She may study whatever she desires; she is to be my wife, not my slave." Erik assured him.

The younger man beside Gustav had not said a word, but Erik had the feeling he was making mental notes to use as reference somewhere down the road.

Gustav hesitated to speak, but knew that he had to speak on his daughter's behalf.

"Please, be gentle with her, my lord." Gustav pleaded.

Erik was taken aback by the fear lacing the words he had just heard; did this father actually think he would hurt his daughter?

"Mark my words, Monsieur Delancy; she has nothing to fear from me." Erik murmured, "I trust your trip into the Merlot Region was uneventful and that my bride-to-be is in good spirits?"

"Indeed." Gustav remarked.

"I hope your rooms at the Chateau Dans le Paradis are adequate?"

"They are."

"Very well, my carriage will be at the hotel entrance by 10:00 a.m. tomorrow morning." The Marquis instructed; and then quickly added with a condescending tone, "Don't keep me waiting."

Erik watched the carriage ride off, knowing that Gustav Delancy was no more thrilled about his daughter marrying him, than he would be to have her marry a wildebeest; it was a good thing he had no choice in the matter – but then again, neither did Erik.

TBC