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. I wrote the poem/song in chapter 6. There is no melody to it, but the character of Erik would have worked a melody into it somehow.
This is not the eleborate wedding I normally write, this is just a means to and end; so I beg your forgiveness ahead of time.
CHAPTER 7 – A Wedding, of sorts
If Christine closed her eyes, she could imagine that she was in a sacred chapel about to be married to the man of her dreams and her entire family was present to witness the blessed event.
However, the sad truth was, she was never going to have that wedding and the man she was about to marry was a stranger to her.
As she stood at the door ready to take the walk of doom, she caught sight of a tall, dignified, darkly clad figure at the far end of the terrace.
She could not see his face, but the broad expanse of his back was very pleasing to the eyes.
'Perhaps he's the bishop…" she thought, but then she saw a man wearing the distinct wardrobe of the bishop and knew that was not the case. 'He's not dressed like a servant and he carries himself like a noble…"
She tried to refute the truth as it stared her in the face; the tall, dignified, darkly clad figure was her soon-to-be husband.
"So much for being short and portly.' She chided to herself.
She proceeded toward the figure, while she stared indignant holes into his back. He didn't turn to look at her while she walked toward him.
Erik, for his part, shook profusely under the convincing charade of cool composure that he maintained with great effort. He could do nothing but stare blankly into the wall in front of him, wishing he could crawl inside it and disappear.
'He's not even slightly curious about what I look like.'Christine commented to herself.
Gustav walked her to him and then stepped back. She avoided looking at the stiff, dark man beside her, but she felt the power emanating from him like a pulsing life source.
"Who gives this woman to this man in the bonds of matrimony?" The bishop asked.
"I do." Gustav choked out.
Christine felt the tears begin to flow and could not stop them. She proudly held her head up, ignoring them as they inched down her stoic face.
Erik had not looked fully into her face, but he could feel the underlying rage she was fighting to hold back. He sensed, but did not see, the tears she was shedding, and a twinge of guilt plucked at his conscience.
"Do you, Marquis Erik Rameau Laroque, take Christine Ana Delancy to be your wife; to honor and cherish all the days of your life, until death do you part?"
Christine chanced a look at the man who would soon promise to honor and cherish her but who could not bring himself to look at her. She stared at his left profile, awed by what she saw. He was very attractive – tall and stately with dark hair pulled back in a ponytail. Raw power and intense passion seemed to lurk beneath the surface of his civility and Christine could not help the curious thrill that raced through her.
"I do." He stated without emotion.
Christine felt her heart lurch at the sound of his voice. She shook the silky robe of his voice from her shoulders and slipped into the comfortable robe of indifference.
"Do you, Christine Ana Delancy, take Marquis Erik Rameau Laroque to be your husband; to honor and cherish all the days of your life, until death do you part?"
With her head held defiantly up, and her voice forceful, she proudly accepted the role being forced upon her.
"I do."
"Do you have the ring?" The bishop asked.
For the first time since the ceremony began, Erik turned to his bride and almost forgot who he was, where he was, and what he was doing.
Her eyes captivated him and he saw the high-level of intelligence that rested in their midnight oasis. Her hair was almost the same color as her eyes, black with blue tint. Her skin was flawless, the color of fine porcelain, and looked to be as soft as the petals of a rose. She was full of figure and every inch was enticingly feminine.
"The ring, my lord….do you have it?" The Bishop Farquhar asked again.
Erik, without taking his eyes from her, reached into his pocket and produced the most exquisite ring; a two-carat, marquis-cut diamond nestled between two priceless pearls, there were twenty smaller diamonds circling the band; Christine realize it matched the necklace he had given her earlier.
He slipped it on her the ring finger of her left hand and was happy to see that it fit perfectly. He did not miss the tremble that went though her, and he dropped his eyes and closed them briefly, hiding the pain of her palpable fear of him.
"By the power vested in me by God and the holy church, I know pronounce you man and wife." The bishop shut his Bible and smiled, "You may kiss your bride."
Erik quickly swept his lips across her cheek and stood back up. The scent of her permeated his senses – he had never thought that rose petals could be so intoxicating.
He ran his eyes over her features and thought how she was not the striking beauty that Nicholle had been; but his new wife was unpretentiously beautiful with her black hair, ivory skin, and generous curves.
Her eyes engulfed him in their cool, midnight depths, and he recognized the loathing that cloaked them. This woman despised him already. She was raking her eyes over his beastly visage and Erik was certain she was fighting back the urge to retch.
He had forced this woman to marry him – his reasons were gallant and had nothing to do with him, but he had forced her nonetheless; she hated him…and he could not blame her.
The ceremony was over as abruptly as it had begun. Christine moved away from him as quickly as she could, avoiding looking at him any longer than was necessary for propriety's sake.
He wore a mask! The entire right side of this face – from his forehead down to just above the curve of his lips – was covered! As if he were not imposing enough to everyone, he had to wear that monstrous mask!
A flush of anger colored her cheeks. 'I've been forced to marry a stranger who hides behind a ghastly mask…what could be the reason behind that?' She thought.
She looked up to find his sea colored eyes on her. She immediately looked away, startled at his open assessment of her.
She made her way toward him as he talked to her father. She looked up again, and still found his eyes on her…beautiful, fiery eyes with a sadness she felt to her very soul.
"I've no intentions of shutting her away from her family." Erik finished, taking his eyes from her. "You and your family are welcome at Vassadelle any time."
Christine studied his features as he conversed with her father. She was delighted to find that he was not as old as she had originally thought; he couldn't be more than thirty-five and his visible features were very pleasant, very pleasant indeed..
His rigid stance left no doubt that he was uncomfortable in her presence and could not wait to leave.
Christine squared her shoulders and gave her chin a stubborn tilt, she would not allow this man to frighten her…her father had assured her that he was not abusive or abhorrent; in fact, he had seemed rather taken with the man. She moved past them and examined the rose bushes.
Gustav frowned at his new son-in-law, but shook the hand that was extended to him, "I will be by occasionally, just to see her; as will her mother."
Erik smiled slightly before asking, "Christine's sister, the one directly beneath her, she is widowed, yes?"
Gustav shook his head in sorrow, remembering the death of his son-in-law, Stuart.
"Christine will need female companionship. There is no one here, if Bethany would like, she and her daughter are welcome to reside here…I know that times are rough and her husband had nothing to leave her."
Gustav was in shock. This man was offering to give his destitute daughter a place to live. He was offering to take care of her and his granddaughter in a way that Gustav could not.
"That is generous of you, my lord." Gustav stated, "I will let her know."
"The funds you require to save your business have been deposited into your account by my associate, Kaveh Hushmand. The Duke was going to supply the funds, but I believe in keeping things in the family. You may use them as you see fit; should you need more, you need only to ask."
Erik excused himself and left them to say their good-byes. Christine threw herself into her father's waiting arms, but refused to shed the tears that were waiting at the corners of her eyes. Gustav held her tightly, afraid to let her go for fear she would disappear from him forever.
"He's not a bad man, Christine – I know this." Gustav finally stated, "Perhaps you will learn to like him in time."
Christine forced a smile, but her eyes were warm, "Perhaps…." she whispered, "…but right now, all I feel is anger and indifference."
She walked her father and Patrick to their waiting carriage, feeling very much the sacrificial virgin. She gave her father one last hug and nodded good-bye to Patrick.
She watched as the carriage rode down the long driveway and then disappeared around the corner of Erik's estate.
Every minute that passed made the marriage bed more and more of a reality. Was she ready to yield herself to this stranger? The answer was an emphatic "NO"!
'Alright, so he's not portly and short, elderly and decrepit, or waspish and homely – but he is a boorish man who forced me into an arranged marriage.' She assured herself.
He suddenly appeared at her side, his features unreadable and his stance aloof. He seemed to dominate whatever area he occupied, and Christine found his presence very paradoxical. How could a man frighten her with just the inkling of power he emanated; and at the same time, convince her that no harm would ever come her way as long as a breath remained in his body?
Christine had the thought that if he would just smile, the severity in his visible features would dissipate and she would feel more at ease; but no such action occurred.
The found her eyes straying to the mask many times and she knew is was rude. It would take some getting used to, but Christine was certain that the mask could be overcome; he didn't strike her as the kind of man who would wear such an accessory for display purposes only.
"Shall we?" He indicated with an offer of his elbow, which she took and set a pace beside him. "It is time you were introduced to the children."
Christine stopped walking and gaped at him, "Children?"
TBC