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.
CHAPTER 11
Several days passed without event, and Christine hardly saw Erik except from a distance. He seemed to avoid her and the only times she really saw him was when he was atop his magnificent stallion with his black cape flying ominously behind him like the dark wings of a raven.
He seldom spoke to her, but she would catch his sultry eyes on her at times, only for him to whip them away when he realized she had seen him.
The process began to grow wearisome and Christine longed to know the mystery of Erik. She wanted to know everything that made him the confident and commanding figure that he was to those who knew him, and the wonderful father that he was to his children.
Beth was a godsend during these days and helped Christine to realize there was more to Erik than he wanted her to see…the glimpses of this man were getting easier to see, especially when he was interacting with the children.
She had watched him earlier, while he quietly helped James's elderly father down from the carriage in which he had come to visit; he didn't seem to care that there were servants that could have done it, he did it without pretext.
Was this the same man the servants whispered about in the quiet of the evening hours…was this the same man whose legendary skills with weapons, such as the Punjab lasso and knives, caused trembling among the hearts of many nobles and criminals throughout Europe?
Many spoke of his stone exterior and terrible temper and none wished to cross him. He tolerated few people and had yet to attend any of the royal functions the Duke had invited him to attend.
However, his children worshipped him and his eyes held such warmth, even if they were full of pain and cloaked in shadow. His smile, though reserved and strained, spoke of gentleness and the desire to be accepted.
He was a mystery in many ways, and she was ready to unravel him – one masculine strand at a time.
Today, he had left early on the back of his Arabian steed, Drago. He always managed to look pristine and perfect…his black hair slicked back and flat against his head; his clothing crisp and expensively designed; and his white mask soundly placed against the flesh of his face.
It was now early evening, and the sun had set minutes ago. Christine wandered in the gardens, as the weather was starting to warm a little, and the evening breeze was only slightly chilled.
She had talked with the gardener for a few minutes before he headed to his cottage for the night. He had been gone about twenty minutes before Christine decided to head back toward the house.
She pulled her shawl further over her shoulders and moved from the bench. She halted suddenly when an eerie feeling came over her; she was not alone.
Christine looked about, but nothing caught her attention; the night sky shielded many things from her vision, but she could still feel the prickly eyes of lust and hatred upon her.
She closed her eyes and breathed deeply, trying to calm her racing heart before panic made her lose her edge.
She felt the hard, rough surface of a large oak tree behind her and pushed against it for support, but the same tree trapped her as strong arms came around her and pinned her against it.
"I warned you, whore…that demon can have nothing to himself…everything was mine before he took it from me…you will be mine, for he will never be man enough to have you."
Christine went cold as ice as she recognized Pascal's sniveling voice. Tears stung her eyes and cascaded down her cheeks as she realized he could rape her and no one would be the wiser.
"He's not worthy of a willing bride - even one as plain as you are." He spat and landed a fist across her cheek, cracking her lip open.
His hot, acrid breath sickened her as his rough, foul mouth took hers. She tried pushing him away from her, but her struggles only intensified his lust to control her.
"Keep fighting, you are only adding fuel to the fire, my sweet…." He ripped the front of her dress and groped her breasts with one hand while gripping the tree firmly with the other.
"...let a real man show you what a woman is for…" he hissed as his mouth closed over her exposed breast.
Christine screamed as he violated her body, but she knew the wind carried her screams away from the house.
Suddenly, Pascal relinquished his hold on her and screamed. Christine wasted no time moving away from him and watching him writhe in pain.
His hand was pinned to the trunk of the tree by an expertly thrown knife; another knife was lodged securely in his shin.
A dark, graceful figure made its way toward the sniveling man and Christine realized it was Erik; he had saved her.
"Erik! Free me at once….you have no right to do this to me!" Pascal whined, "You can't escape me…you beast…you aren't worthy to hold the title and estate….you have the blood of witches in your veins…"
Pascal's words pierced his heart, but Erik was not going to give him the satisfaction of knowing he was rattled.
"You're my son….you are just like me…" Pascal tried a different tactic to get his attention.
Erik had turned from him to gather Christine in his arms and carry her to the house; but Pascal's statement stopped him.
He turned and pinned his heated eyes on the man he could no longer tolerate.
His voice was strong and determined as he spoke, "I will never be like you."
Erik turned his back on his father and approached Christine. She collapsed in his arms as he removed his cape, draped it over her trembling shoulders, and exposed breasts.
He carried her silently into the house, averting his eyes from her creamy flesh. He was certain she did not wish to face his ugliness and certainly not his lust, so he just held her gently but firmly to him as he carried her.
ЖЖ
He went through the front door and James immediately lost all the color in his face.
"My lord, what happened?" James gasped.
"You need to tend to your former master, he seems to have a kinfe wedged into his hand, and another in his shin; just follow the screams." Came the cold reply
James needed no more of an explanation. He nodded and removed himself to do Erik's bidding.
Erik strode up the stairs and was glad when Beth opened the door to her apartment and saw Christine in his arms.
"She needs a warm bath and a woman's touch…please make sure she is alright." Erik instructed, "I will take care of my father – once and for all."
He placed Christine on the bed in her quarters, nodded to Beth, and left without another word.
It was a couple of hours before Christine calmed down enough to tell Beth what had happened. Beth cried with her and they were both thankful that Erik had shown up when he had.
"I saw him, Beth…just a glimpse of him." Christine uttered.
"Who?" Beth asked, confused about whom it was she spoke.
"The man that everyone fears…Erik the legend…" Christine elaborated, "…But I don't fear him at all…he makes me feel safer than I have ever felt."
Beth tucked her sister into bed and sat with her for a little while until she peacefully slept.
ЖЖ
No one dared step in his way as he pounded his way down the hall toward the tower. Once he had assured Christine's safety and handed her over to Beth, he had hunted Pascal down, lassoed him, and dragged his bleeding form to the secluded tower on the far, east end of the house and locked him up.
"You can't do this…I'll die out here." Pascal pleaded.
He spit expletives at Erik with every breath as he was hauled, unceremoniously, from the front door to the holding room.
"Death would be too easy for you…I have something more effective in mind for you." Erik whispered, menacingly.
He slammed the door shut and locked it behind him, as he heard Pascal scream once again.
"Don't let him out, or you'll suffer the same punishment he does, understood?"
The young guard shook his head vigorously; he knew his master would carry through on anything he promised.
"I will have his meals delivered promptly, three times a day, he will be stripped soaped, and washed down once a day, and he is to remain in this cell until I return in a week's time." Erik instructed, "You will answer to Mr. Hushmand in my absence."
Erik strode from the tower and headed back into the main manor house. He would pay Sergei another visit and the problem with his father would be solved, finally.
ЖЖ
The next morning dawned bright, but Christine was still shaken, and she did not stir from the bed until late morning.
She finally got up and dressed, but could not find the courage to leave her room; she feared Pascal was waiting in the wings to accost her again.
She heard a knock on the door and Beth spoke softly to her from the other side. Christine opened the door and smiled tentatively at Beth and Giorgia.
"Come on, Christine, Erik has him locked up on the far tower. He won't be getting out at all until Erik decides what to do with him."
She finally left her apartment and managed to make it through the morning without much difficulty.
Erik was nowhere to be found, but James assured her he was on the grounds, tending to some business matters.
"He will be leaving in the morning, my lady." James stated."He wanted to make sure you were going to be alright before he left."
Christine hoped that she had a chance to thank him before he left. "When will he return?"
"One week…that is what he said."
James smiled and left her standing on the terrace; it was a cool spring morning, and Christine loved the sound of the birds chirping and the smell of the dewy mist as it landed on the blooming tulips.
She reclined on the settee, reading the remaining chapters of her book until she saw Erik riding toward the estate.
She immediately noticed the difference in him; he wore a plain white shirt – open to reveal the dark spray of hair across his muscular chest; black, form-fitting riding breeches, black, knee-high leather boots, black leather gloves, and no cape.
His normally slicked back hair was loose and framed his features in soft waves. He was even more breathtaking in disarray than he was when his appearance was just shy of perfection; and that was saying a great deal.
He exuded raw, sexual power, and it was obvious that he had no idea how attractive he was. He was confident and sure in everything he did, but Christine could tell that his appearance was one thing about himself that he hated.
As he closed the distance between them, she could see his eyes as they took in her appearance.
His turbulent eyes were bluish-green today – resembling the sea after a storm, and they showed a great deal of concern for her as he coaxed Drago to a stop in front of her; she also noticed that he rode bareback.
He gracefully dismounted and tied the horse to the column. He had dropped his eyes when she looked at him, and he had not gazed at her since.
"What are you reading?" he asked, finally raising his eyes to hers.
"Jane Eyre." She responded with a smile. "But I am almost finished and will be finding another book."
What did you have in mind?"
She continued to smile at him, and Erik had not realized how sensual her mouth was until that very moment - even with the bruising.
"I don't suppose you have anything by Jane Austen?"
She had wanted to read Pride and Prejudice for several years, but had never had the opportunity.
Erik smirked at the insinuation that he didn't appreciate the feminine storylines, "I do…I'm honored to have every book she wrote."
Christine had not expected him to fancy such "female frivolity" has her father called it. Gustav had a hard time with romantic notion and Teresa, Christine's mother, had spent the last few years wondering where his romantic bone had been buried – she blamed the dog.
She gave him a teasing smile, which caused his heart to surprisingly spring to life. Erik had never had this reaction to a woman before. Although he called what he had felt for Nicholle love, it was a dead, cold love born out of respect for her gender, more than anything.
"I…" Christine began.
"I am sorry, Christine….if I hadn't come about when I did…" Erik injected.
He chanced looking at her as he spoke and noticed how the sunshine danced on her ivory skin and made the blue/black in her hair come forth even more.
Erik couldn't help but brush his eyes over her tall but generously curved body as she rested on the settee. She was a beautiful woman; not in a picturesque way, like Nicholle, but in a natural, subtle way.
Where Nicholle had been short and delicately built, Christine was tall and full-figured. She had an ample bosom, child-bearing hips, and curves in all the right places.
Erik cleared his throat, and shifted his weight, as he tried not to show the uncomfortable swell of his body as it constantly reminded him of his masculine desires.
"Please, sit." She insisted.
Erik was surprised by her offer, but he gingerly sat down next to her as she moved her legs and sat up.
Erik tried to smile, but he found her nearness rendered him a complete imbecile, "I came to apologize for my abhorrent behavior the past few weeks."
Christine creased her brow, but said nothing as he continued, "I have little experience in relationships, especially in regard to women." His rang his hands together and tried to smile again, "I knew you were not fond of being in my presence, and I knew that you could handle anything that presented itself - your intelligence is quite astounding."
She smiled in the warmth of his compliment and absently rubbed her wrist where Pascal had held her hand, the bruised skin had almost healed, but the faint coloring was still visible.
Erik reached over and took her hand in his, not realizing the intimacy of the gesture. His forehead creased and his eyes grew dark, "My father has never done something as retched as what he tried to do to you…I am truly sorry."
Christine shivered from the memory of Pascal's hands and mouth on her; all she had felt like doing was regurgitating; but the feel of Erik's hand on hers was quickly removing all negative thoughts from her brain.
He stood elegantly and pulled his shirt out of his pants; he hoped to hide the prominent bulge that persisted, even after he mentally berated himself.
He had seen her shiver and was not certain whether she feared and despised him or was recalling last night's events; either way, it was time he left her alone.
He bowed and headed back toward Drago, "I hope in time that you will be able to tolerate me…I would very much like to get to know you, I understand that you play the piano, the violin, and sing…I would love the honor of hearing you."
She stood, walked over to him, and placed her hand upon his arm to halt him, "My lord, your father…"
His eyes fixed on the hand she put to his arm; it awakened the need in him – the need for the touch of a woman. His heart raced and he cleared his throat; he had to get some control.
"I will take care of it…" He quickly interceded, but his tone softened when he noticed her concerned look, "…I assure you."
He dropped his eyes to her full mouth, and abruptly caught himself before making a complete fool of himself.
"I am thankful he didn't hurt you any more than he did…but I am sorry you had to experience it in the first place." His eyes searched her features for any sign that his father had hurt her in other ways. "Are you going to be alright?"
She was frowning at him, and she frowned even more when her eyes rested on his mask. Erik wondered how long it would be before she ripped it from him just to satisfy her own curiosity.
"Thank you for showing up when you did." She whispered. "And for carrying me to the manor."
They stood there facing each other; Drago waited patiently in the background for his master to reach him.
"I am thankful that I showed up when I did, too." Erik repeated. "And you're welcome."
Christine smiled, but there was a tremble in her lips; it was apparent that she was terrified; he only prayed she was not terrifed of him.
Her eyes once again focused on his mask; when she noticed his wounded eyes, she blushed and looked away.
He tried to lighten the heavy air that had settled around them with a quiet chuckle, "I know…the mask is terrifying..." He jaunted, "…but trust me when I say it is far better than what lies beneath it."
Christine was horrified; she had not meant to stare. The mask actually added more mystery to him…if that was possible. She hadn't intended to make him uncomfortable.
"I apologize…it's just that I have never seen someone who wears a mask all the time."
It was a fair enough evaluation, and she hadn't given into the overwhelming urge to rid him of it; things were already better than they had been with Nicholle.
"I've lived with this for as long as I can remember, but I realize that I am far from any woman's ideal man." His voice was light and his tone was unpretentious; he actually smiled slightly, as he spoke; but that almost smile held a sadness that Christine had never seen.
A curly strand of her raven hair had fallen in front of her eyes, and Erik reached his hand out to tuck it behind her ear; Christine could see the change in him as soon as he realized what he had been about to do.
He immediately pulled his hand back and dropped it into his side, "Perhaps, in time, you and I could be friends – I find that I enjoy being within the embrace of your beauty…" he stood, but kept his eyes on her, "…would that it could transform me into something beautiful."
His full mouth curved slightly into a sad smile, and his vivid eyes appeared to be a deep green in the light of the day; Christine had realized how they changed color with his moods.
'He finds me beautiful.' Christine thought as an appreciative smile curved her mouth.
Oddly, his next words burnished a spot on her heart and left her crestfallen.
"I assure you, my lady, I will not be asking anything of you…as a husband…I merely ask that you converse with me and give me the honor of hearing you sing and play, if that would be alright with you…" He dropped his eyes again and mounted Drago, "…forgive me for taking up so much of your time….good day, my lady."
Christine blinked, and he was goneTBC