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)
Kaveh Hushmand - Oded Fehr (The Mummy, The Mummy Returns) - Thank you Mlle.Fox, for suggesting this striking actor as a model for Kaveh.
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.
On the above list of players, I have added an actor to pattern Kaveh Hushmand after. Thank you Mlle. Fox for suggesting him. He's perfect! As always, my friend, you do me proud!
I'm not really happy with this chapter, but I hope you like it anyway.
CHAPTER 14 – Taking Care of Business
Christine had dedicated the next few days to taking Beth's words to heart. She would make Erik see her as his woman…his wife – there could be no doubt in his mind of what she wanted.
He had to see himself as an attractive, viable male whose sensual movements, sculpted, solid body, and scandalously erotic voice made her weak in the knees.
Beth had suggested she be a little bit more aggressive with him about her feelings and make it known that she was not going anywhere.
She mentally went over the things she knew about him: he had a sense of humor, could disable a man in the blink of an eye and the toss of a knife, had the voice of an angel, composed operas, enjoyed horseback riding, played the piano and violin, knew a great deal about many subjects, enjoyed reading, and was a dedicated father.
She had taken it upon herself to become a decent horseback rider, something she had never really done, just so she could spend time with him. Today, she had decided to go for a ride, not knowing that Erik would be home when she finished.
She dismounted as soon as she reached the manor and allowed the stable boy to take over. She ran into the house, expecting Erik to be lingering in the hallway; but he was nowhere to be found.
Disappointment invaded her; she had hoped to greet him upon his return, but he was apparently about business in some other part of the house.
She made her way toward the main living quarters, but was stopped by Beth's frantic voice as she called to her from half way down the hall.
"What?" Christine asked, "Where is Erik?"
Beth didn't seem upset, so Christine relaxed as her sister waltzed up to her. She caught her breath and held up her hand to silence Christine's questions, and finally replied. "Follow me."
ЖЖ
"You can't mean this, Erik…I'm your father." Pascal pleaded, suddenly feeling Erik's legendary wrath descending on him.
Erik stood ominously tall with his hands crossed over his chest and a deadly cold stare in his eyes. When Christine stopped at the arch of the door his eyes locked with hers; in their green depths, she could read the anger that coursed through him.
He bowed his head slightly and briefly curved his lips in a small smile before he returned his hard, icy gaze to the trembling, petrified figure of his father.
"I warned you to never underestimate me…you have signed your own sentence, Father…" the title was hurled from his mouth with vicious force – as though it physically hurt him to utter it .
"…do not blame anyone but yourself for the measures I have been forced to take." Erik loomed over him as he listed the crimes against his father, "You committed adultery with my late wife, conspired with her to regain the title and estate, the two of you made several pathetically asinine attempts on my life, consorted with other members of the aristocracy to usurp my authority and my place at Vassadelle…"
Erik's tone was deep and controlled, but the ruthlessness was barely contained within it's cold timbre. "…you sought to end Kamilla's life before she even took her first breath and then made the same feeble attempt just hours after she was born…"
Christine had not heard this horrible story – was there no end to this man's depravity?
Erik continued, "…you recently accosted and nearly raped my wife, the Marchioness Christine." His eyes reamed into Pascal with seething hatred and there was no sign of the compassion and tenderness Christine had witnessed in him - he was calculated and competent in his decision and Pascal knew there was no escape.
Erik loomed over his father's trembling figure and placed his face within centimeters of his fathers, "How dare you even think about touching her; what you did was unthinkable and inexcusable…you are a stupid and foolish man…and your time has run out."
He straightened his shoulders and turned his back to his father, "You are going to be under the care of Friar Bernard Trudeau at the Belflur Penal Monastery."
Christine tried to contain her joy at hearing the punishment Erik had shelled out. Belflur was hell on earth for those who committed crimes against their fellow man.
It was a stone castle built into the side of Mont Blanc in the French Alps. The "tenants" worked night and day to chip rock from the walls, which allowed more rooms to be built. They painstakingly built every piece of furniture, hand-stitched each rug, curtain, article of clothing – everything, and each man was expected to attend all worship services and prayer services; bound in shackles.
Pascal, like just about everyone else in the room, had thought that Belflur was an imaginary place used to threaten those with weak minds into submission.
Erik mocked the horrified look on Pascal's face, "Yes…Belflur is very real…and you will fit in quite well."
He drew his eyes up and looked at the four, large monks who had come to deliver Pascal into the service of the church.
He gave them a brief nod and they firmly nudged Pascal out the door and toward the carriage they had arrived in; Pascal, for his part, was bawling like a child and begging Erik to have mercy on him.
But Erik had run out of mercy where his father was concerned.
He didn't even watch the wagon disappear before he headed back inside; he nodded at Christine as he passed her and Beth, and stormed down the hall toward his quarters.
He felt as though a giant weight had been lifted from him and a thick, painful thorn had been removed from his side; but a part of him mourned his father's evil heart – what had been the cause and source of his wickedness - and did the same wickedness lurk in his own heart?
It was hours before Erik emerged from his suite. He looked rested and refreshed as he moved down the hall and toward the east parlor.
Kaveh stood at the entrance with a curious glint in his eye, "That was priceless, Erik…I have waited for years for you to do that."
Erik lifted the aristocratic arch of his brow and swept past Kaveh and into the parlor, "Do what?"
"Finally rid yourself and your household of that callous buffoon."
Kaveh shut the door and made his way over to where Erik stood.
Erik frowned and his forehead creased, "The mystery surrounding my birth goes with him Kaveh…the Duke is doing what he can, but I am quickly losing faith."
Kaveh smiled gently and patted his friend on the arm, "Give him more time, Erik…I know he is making headway – I am certain of it."
Erik had asked the servants about his birth, but most of them had not been around at that time, and James had no idea what happened.
Kaveh's voice interrupted his thoughts, "Erik, I have something I need to ask you." Kaveh appeared apprehensive, but continued, "You are like a brother to me…and are, therefore, the only family I have…"
"What is it, Kaveh…out with it?" Erik urged, having some idea of what it was Kaveh was going to ask.
"…I know that I have only known her for several weeks, but it is my intention to ask Beth to be my wife."
Erik smiled; a genuine, rich smile that instantly transformed his face. "She will, no doubt, accept your hand, Kaveh…I see how she looks at you – and you at her." Erik replied, a tug of regret filling his heart.
Kaveh chanced an eye-to-eye appraisal of Erik's general mood; he appeared to be completely at peace with the idea of him marrying again.
"You are her guardian, Erik; it is for you to say if it is alright."
"I am no such thing, Kaveh…she is a grown woman, who has been married and widowed and she can very well choose her own husband…I need not get involved." Erik ran his hand through his hair in agitated swiftness, "My intent in bringing her here was simply to give Christine companionship and someone she could enjoy her time with."
Kaveh smiled broadly and Erik saw the joy in his adopted brother's eyes.
"You are blessed man, Kaveh…to have loved and been loved twice in a lifetime." Erik stated, solemnly. "Sarah would want you to move on."
Kaveh heard the sadness fill his friend's voice and knew he had never known love; at least, not in in it's truest form – but Christine would change that, of that he was certain.
"Speaking of moving on…" Kaveh teased, "…I see how Christine looks at you."
Erik scoffed and dropped his head, "You mean that pale look when all the blood drains from her face in revulsion and disgust…I don't wish to speak of this…she has made her feelings quite clear, friend…I don't need to hear it from you."
Erik walked swiftly from the room, leaving Kaveh wondering how he had lost control of the conversation so quickly. He shook his head and watched Erik leave.
ЖЖ
It was two days later when Christine finally got the opportunity to put into practice some of the new techniques she had come up with.
Music was his greatest love, and his biggest personal accomplishment – and it was a language she spoke – fluently.
Erik could hear the music before he exited the parlor. It was coming from the first floor conservatory; Christine was playing.
He quickly turned in that direction and quietly entered the large, acoustic room. She sat at the piano, playing a flawless rendition of Mozart's Piano Concerto in C minor; one of Erik's favorite's by Mozart.
Her long arms gracefully swayed with the music and her head was slightly inclined toward the keyboard, allowing him an exquisite view of her features.
She was completely taken in by the music and was unaware of his looming presence.
'She is stunning…why has no one seen this?' Erik thought; having heard what others said about her.
She sensed someone looking at her and abruptly stopped playing and stood up; startled when she saw that he stood not ten feet behind her.
'Erik.' She purred, and gave him an inviting smile.
Erik saw the subtle glint in her eyes, and his name on her lips was a sirens song; one that he was all-to-willing to succumb to.
"Christine." He said back.
She smiled at him, accepting his presence like a warm blanket on a cold winter night. "Do you play?"
Erik smirked; and for the first time, Christine saw the carefree man he could be if the pain would subside enough. His smirk lit up his eyes, and the blue in them showed strong.
He took a seat in the cushioned chair beside the piano.
"I do..." He stated with a husky timbre in his voice, "…but I prefer to watch and listen to you."
Christine blushed at his forward words, but a thrill ran through her…a thrill that awakened her body to delights she had yet to experience with this man.
Erik was blissfully unaware of the passion that raged through her body; he would not have believed that his presence was what caused it.
She sat back down and played for him; feeling his eyes on her and loving the warmth of them.
He was suddenly behind her; he did not touch her, but she was acutely aware of the warmth of his body and his masculine scent.
"Relax your shoulders and allow your arms to move freely…you won't tire so easily." He whispered into her left ear.
The delightful shiver that ran up her spine combined with the warm, sensual lull of his voice and the slight graze of his breath on her skin made Christine's body react in a most distinct manner. She crossed her arms over her breasts to hide her reaction to him, hoping he had not already become aware of it.
He took his seat, once again, "I'm sorry for disturbing you; please continue…you play beautifully." He complimented softly. "Do you sing as well?"
Christine had hoped he would ask...she had the perfect song in mind that would start him thinking about what she desired from him. The melody flowed from her fingers with expert ease and her voice - true and pure - caressed his ears...
"Away from you, there is no music,
there is no sunlight, the world is gray.
Away from you, the clocks are frozen,
and time's a traveller who's lost his way.
"The people I meet might as well be statues;
the words we exchange might as well be Greek.
The room that I'm in may be bright and cheerful -
but to me, it's dim and bleak."
Erik listened with ferocious intensity to every word she sang. Her voice touched each fiber of his body, leaving him breathless and at her mercy.
"I'm half alive until the moment
the door swings open and you walk through.
Now my world start to glow like a strained-glass window,
and what was old and cold, is warm and new.
And so now you see why I can never be...away from you."
Erik could not grasp why she was singing such an openly romantic song to him; of all the songs he was certain she knew, why this one?
"Away from you the world is lifeless,
as though creation has gone awry.
The trees are bare, there are no flowers,
the fields are thirsty, the streams are dry.
"We live, you and I, for a breath of sunlight,
so brief and escape from a world of gray.
Our moments of warmth have been touch and go, love,
but tonight, we'll touch and stay.
"The people I meet might as well be statues;
the words we exchange might as well be Greek.
The room that I'm in may be bright and cheerful -
but to me, it's dim and bleak."
"I'm have alive until the moment
the door swings open and you walk through.
Now my sould is afloat on a wave of music
that I could feel such joy I never knew.
And so you see why I can never be...away from you." (1)
She rested her fingers on the keys for a few treasured moments before resting them in her lap. She knew the words were going to cause a strirring of thoughts in Erik's mind, but she did not know how he would handle those thoughts.
Erik had been lost in the sound of her voice and the stirring melody she was weaving with her agile fingers. He knew he could sit and listen to her sing for hours, and never grow tired of hearing her.
"That was exquisite." Erik stated, still a bit shaken by his reaction to her voice. "Your voice touches me as no other ever has."
Christine felt the tears well up in her eyes and turned on the bench; she looked straight into his restless eyes.
"I am glad you enjoyed it." Christine finally said. "I know that you are a far more advanced musician than I am, could you teach me how to be better?"
Erik had not expected her to be interested in learning anything from him, but he found himself reveling in the idea of influencing her in any way. Her eyes were on him, lending their warmth and making him swallow deeply.
"Perhaps...but you are quite accomplished." He whispered. There was a moment of awkward silence before Erik cleared his throat and spoke, "A few weeks ago, you were making use of my extensive library...are you enjoying all that it offers?"
Christine smiled, "Yes, I have…I have never seen so many rare books."
"Did you find the Jane Austen books you were seeking?"
Her husky tone floated over to him and wrapped his senses in sweet intoxication. He could not believe how steady his voice sounded.
"Yes I found them all and have managed to read each one." Christine smiled.
Erik returned her smile, "So, what are you reading now?"
"It's a new book by one of my favorite authors, Jules Verne." Christine held up the book, showing him the title.
Erik smiled, and this time the smile reached his eyes, "You are reading, Around the World in Eighty Days….excellent choice."
"You have a very well stocked library, Erik." Christine complimented, breathlessly.
Erik nodded, "Have you read his other two books?"
"Yes, I love the adventures he takes his readers on…especially the voyage beneath the sea." Her eyes lit up as she spoke and Erik thought she had never looked more beautiful. "What an exciting trip that would be!"
"Do you like to write your own adventures?" he asked as he smiled at her enthusiasm.
Christine wasn't sure how to answer that question. It was rare for a woman to express herself in the form of a book, but Christine did enjoy writing about far off places and fairy-tale lands.
"I've thought about it, but I have never actually pursued it."
"You need only ask for whatever supplies you need, and they will be yours." Erik emphasized. "You are the marchioness, everything is at your disposal."
"My nieces and nephews say that I am quite a story teller…" Christine stated with a dreamy smile, "I love to make children smile and giggle with far-away lands, the damsel in distress and the knight in shining armor that rescues her from the fiery dragon."
Erik chuckled, a low, passionate sound that reverberated within her, "That sounds delightful…perhaps if I had one of your stories to fill my head, I would have fewer nightmares."
Christine had thought, on several occasions, that she had heard his muffled protests deep in the night...she had determined he suffered from nightmares.
Erik felt as though he had said too much, "It has been a pleasure being with you, Christine..." he brought her hand to his lips for a brief kiss.
He stood up and headed for the door; his broad shoulders and narrow hips caused a sigh of appreciation to catch in her throat. There would be another time to widdle away at his defenses - and she hoped it was soon.
Her low, sultry tone reached his ears and he had to close his eyes as her voice swept over him, "Good night, Erik."
He turned, smiled slightly, and gave her a sweeping, elegant bow, "Good night, Christine."
TBC
(1) Song is "Away From You", sung by Sarah Brightman