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 12 – The Sins of the Father
Sleep did not come easily for Christine that night. She felt the grip of fear as it tried to dominate her body; but she refused to feel victimized.
When all was in focus, she felt nothing but seething hatred for Pascal. He had deliberately set his sights on her even though she knew he found her plain - she was Erik's wife, and he didn't want Erik to have anything.
She could still feel his hands and mouth upon her flesh hours after she had stepped from the bath. Would she ever get the stench of him and the revolting feel of his clammy hands off her?
And what about Erik? He had shown up like a brave knight, stepping out of the shadows to save his woman. Every day that passed, she felt more and more attracted to him; but she still knew very little about him.
The romantic within her was disappointed that he had been married to her for almost two months, and had not tried to kiss her; or anything else, for that matter.
Perhaps he felt as most other men did, and found her love of reading and other academic subjects intimidating and unladylike; but he had encouraged her to pursue her interests. Nothing made any sense.
There were certain phrases he made and words he said that told Christine he thought himself repulsive to women, although he seemed confident and self assured in his life otherwise.
The only reason she could come up with was the mask. Christine had already discerned that it hid some flaw on his face; perhaps a birth defect.
No matter what it was, she doubted it was any worse than what she had seen at the burn site last year. So many had lost their lives and those that had lived, were horribly scarred; but their families were just thankful to have them.
The church just up the road from her father's estate had burned down during an evening meeting. Many had been trapped inside and a few had managed to get out. There were many that perished in the flames and were beyond recognition, but there had been a few who survived with injuires ranging from minor flesh wounds to major burns.
The whole Delancy family had labored day and night to help those in need - whether it was food and water, or medical attention. Christine had never seen so much death and pain in her life; she hoped to never experience it again.
Erik had experienced much worse than she could dream of; his beautiful eyes were haunted, and she found that she wanted to see their radiant beauty without the pain that tainted them. She realized what little she knew about the man she had married.
The fact that he made her heart race with just a sweep of his eyes or a whisper of his voice disturbed her, in a way that sent her female hormones into overdrive.
She had found within him a man with character and principles; two things that many men were lacking, and being near him made her pulse quicken and her palms sweat.
Finally, in the wee hours of the morning, Christine drifted to sleep; but her normally innocent dreams were pleasantly disturbed by a man with arresting, troubled green eyes and chiseled, handsome features.
ЖЖ
Erik tossed and turned in his bed and found little comfort in the perfection of the mattress. He was out of his bed in a heartbeat when Timmy whimpered. He was in the room directly beneath Erik's room, and Erik could hear everything.
Erik pulled his robe on over his bare chest and sleeping pants and made his way down the stairs and into the tiny boy's room. Madam Forsythe was already there, but Erik instructed her to go back to bed and he would take care of Timmy.
"What is it little prince?" Erik cooed.
Timmy's nose was runny and he felt feverish, so Erik went into the washroom and obtained a soft towel and saturated it in cool water. He stripped Timmy down to his cloth diaper, took off his robe, and placed the infant at his shoulder. He covered Timmy's heated body with the cool towel and cradled him.
Christine's room was just down the hall from Timmy's and she drifted out of her dream state to hear the most alluring voice she had ever heard. She arose from her bed, slipped on her robe, and walked toward the heavenly voice.
"Good evening, good night. With roses adorned,
With carnations covered, slip under the covers.
Early tomorrow, if God wills, you will wake once again.
Early tomorrow, if God wills, you will wake once again."
She peered in the cracked door and felt tears creep down her cheek as she watched Erik silently walk the floor in nothing but his silk night pants and Timmy pressed against his chest, draped in a towel.
His voice sent warm sensations up her spine that shot straight to her inner core…she realized she wanted more than just conversation and musical exchanges from this man. She found the sight of him taking care of Timmy the most sexy and masculine thing she had ever seen.
"Good evening, good night, by angels watched,
Who show you in your dream the Christ-Child's tree.
Sleep now peacefully and sweetly, look in dreams paradise.
Sleep now peacefully and sweetly, look in dreams paradise." (1)
Erik finished singing and examined his son; he was barely awake, and sucked furiously on his thumb, so Erik decided to sit in the rocking chair and hum quietly.
Christine felt as though she was invading on a very private moment, but she could not stop watching him…he was always so controlled and repressed.
She decided to make her presence known and gently tapped on the door as she went in. Erik looked up in a daze and smiled lightly at her.
"I think he has a cold." Erik stated in a shockingly sexy whisper.
"Would you like me to take over?" Christine asked, still tingling from the powerful pull of his voice.
The towel did not completely cover Erik's entire chest, and she saw tiny scars marring his beautiful skin. She knew that he had endured something awful in his life.
It was suddenly imperative that she learn more about him - she wasn't having any luck at hating him - so the only thing left to do was get to know him..
Erik shook his head and smiled again; but Christine noticed that the smile did not reach his eyes; they remained poignant and aloof.
Erik was fighting the desire he felt surge through him…unknown to her, she seduced him with every innocent move she made. Her gown did little to hide the generous curve of her breast or the soft sweep of her abdomen and hips.
"I'm only going to be here a few more minutes, I think he'll go back to sleep." Erik whispered and dropped his eyes before she became offended by his open interest.
Christine didn't move, but continued to listen to him hum and watch him rock his son to sleep. Once Timmy had been quiet for some time and the sucking had slowed to almost nothing, Erik gently stood and placed the sleeping baby in his crib. He pulled the quilt up and loosely covered him.
They both left the room quietly and Erik turned to go down the stairs to get a cup of warm milk. Christine didn't make a move to go anywhere, so he turned and asked,
"Christine, would you like a cup of warm milk…or perhaps some tea?"
She hadn't realized she held her breath in anticipation of his question, but after he asked she released it slowly, "Warm milk would be lovely, thank you."
She followed him to the kitchen, and noted how quietly and deftly he moved over the floor. He walked as though he had trained as a dancer, but she knew that grace and agility were what made him a deadly foe.
ЖЖ
Christine was fascinated by his movements and watching him prepare the warm milk was a very enjoyable experience. He whistled quietly as he prepared the milk and did not even glance at her once while he worked.
"Are Bethany and Giorgia adjusting well?" Erik asked as he sat down, across from her.
Christine nodded, "Yes, thank you for bringing them here."
Erik bowed his head and took a sip of his warm milk, "You've already thanked me."
Christine smiled shyly at his words and remembered she had thanked him, but she had been rather short and bitter at the time.
"She seems to have taken a liking to your dark friend, Kaveh." Christine added, with another smile.
Erik raised his perfectly carved brow and smirked, "It figures, Kaveh always did have a way with the women."
"You're not upset with this?"
A scowl creased his forehead, "Why would I be upset?"
Christine shrugged her shoulders, "She has been married before, and widowed, she is below his class – she has a six-year-old daughter."
"None of that matters, if they make each other happy." Erik murmured. "The distinction of the classes is ludicrous…one should be able to love whomever they wish." He stared deep into her eyes and continued, "I know that sounds hypocritical, coming from me."
He tried to lighten the despondency in his voice before he continued, "Love is something I know little to nothing about – whether it is the love of a parent or the love of a spouse – as you can tell, I have had neither."
He looked away, not wanting to see her relief at his next words, "…I do not expect your fidelity, Christine." He dropped his eyes and looked away from her, " I should have told you this much earlier…you are free to love whomever you choose; I only ask that you not bring him here, to my estate or on the estate grounds."
Her eyes shot up and made intense contact with his. There was no deceit in his eyes and she knew he was serious.
"Excuse me?" She asked, stunned beyond any other words.
He continued, almost as though he had not heard her, "My first wife was not discreet, she didn't care that I knew who she was having relations with…she deliberately set out to goad me…" He swallowed hard before going on, "…my father and she carried on under this roof for several weeks, before and after I married her."
A shocked, pained look crossed her features, "Oh dear!" she gasped.
He didn't even react to her words, "My father and she concocted this plan to regain the manor, and his title. He sent her to my bed; thinking I would easily surrender to her charms; considering I have never been with a woman."
His admission of this did not seem to bother him, he had accepted it a long time ago and had moved beyond it; but Christine was still shocked to actually hear it come from his mouth.
"I never touched her - even though I was attracted to her; but the next morning she claimed that I had raped her." Erik couldn't bring himself to look at her as he continued, "The accusation made it all the way to the ears of the Duke and I was brought before him. Even though she confessed to the deceit and admitted that she and my father planned the whole thing and I had not raped her, the damage had been done - I was forced to marry her to save my reputation."
Erik smiled sadly, "I later found out that no one believed her story and all knew her to be the fallen woman that I knew her to be."
He smiled sadly and finally lifted his eyes to hers. She was not looking at him with pity in her eyes, which he had expected, but she was looking at him with a blazing ember of indignation in her pearly black eyes.
"After a few failed attempts on my life, they gave up - and she continued to sleep with any man who would have her as my father had grown too old for her taste. She despised me, which I expected, but her promiscuity caused problems in many areas…she was my wife in name only...just as you are."
Christine was beginning to understand what he was inferring, "But the children…"
"…aren't mine, as least not by blood." He stated simply. "Kamilla is most likely my fathers and Timmy's father was the head horse trainer...at least we think he was the father." Christine caught her gasp in her throat before it had a chance to escape. Her eyes remained fixed on his stiff frame.
"I had once been attracted to her...but after what she did..." his voice dripped with malice, "...I had nothing left but emptiness; she's all I've ever known of love between a man and a woman." Erik looked away, but continued to speak, "I understand her having the affairs; anything is better than being with me…but she brought them here, in my home…that I could not accept."
He smiled despondently and returned his gaze to her, he could not read her thoughts, but there were tears in her eyes.
"I have never been with a woman Christine, I'm sure you understand why…but I felt you should know about the children and their mother, and know that you are free to take a lover, should you choose to." He stood up; having drank the last sip of his milk and bid her good night, "Would you like me to walk you to your room?"
She accepted his invitation to walk with her, and they slowly walked the halls. He walked with his hands tucked behind him and his eyes straight ahead, but as they reached her apartment, Erik bowed and took her hand to his soft lips.
"Thank you for the company…and rest assured, my lady…my father will not be bothering you again." He turned from her and headed back down the hall.
Once he was well on his way to his third floor sanctuary, Christine hurriedly returned to her room before giving into the angry tears she had been fighting to conceal.
"What a witch she was!" Christine spat as she paced the floor. "How could she do that to him?"
Christine had thought she misunderstood him at first, but he had given her the same choice that he had given Nicholle. He had told her he did not expect her to be faithful to him…he more than hinted for her have an affair.
"He thinks I'm no better than she was…he thinks no woman could ever desire him or desire to be a wife to him in every possible way…" her own voice comforted her as she grasped the reality of what he had been through.
She finally admitted to herself that she had never really hated him; it wasn't in her to be that shallow. There were so many scars on him, inside and out, that defined him as a victim in more ways than she would ever be.
Nicholle had never had his heart - his lustful male nature, yes - but never his heart. She had taught him that love was fickle and sought its own gain, caring nothing for those it hurt along the way.
However, Christine knew that love, true love, in no way resembled what Nicholle had shown him; maybe it was her duty to show him…she knew there was an irrefutable attraction she felt for him.
"Christine, you barely know him…" She tried to reason with her inner voice. "How can you possibly think that you are in love with him?"
Christine would have scoffed at that thought, but her mother's story of long ago echoed in her heart. She had married Gustav Delancy without setting eyes on him, but the minute his blue eyes had touched hers, Teresa was his…she loved him entirely and deeply.
Like mother, like daughter.
TBC
(1) The orignial Brahms Lullaby