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.
I am going to be going out of town for the weekend, so this will be the last post until Sunday night.
CHAPTER 18 – A Journey Begins
Words escaped him; Erik had not expected to find out anything about his birth – his servants had been a dead end – except for James.
James remembered Erik's mother as being a beautiful, black-haired, black-eyed woman with an enchanting smile and lilting voice.
One week ago...
"She was a bright light in the morbid darkness that had encased this family, my lord…I don't know what became of her – it is a great mystery."
Erik felt a disturbed eeriness befall him as he reflected on James' words.
"There was never an investigation into her death…nothing?"
James shook his head and frowned.
"No one suspected anything?"
The look that James gave him brimmed with unanswered questions.
"You must understand, my lord, she disappeared one cold night. Pascal came back three days later – no Jenica – no baby."
Erik's head cocked to one side at the mention of his mother's name – he had only heard it one other time – once, in a fevered dream - his father had revealed it.
"You resemble her, my lord, greatly – you have the same hair and facial features. Your eyes have her shape and her long, charcoal lashes; you have her darker skin color - but you have Pascal's vivid green eye color." James reflected.
"Did you know her?" Erik asked in a whispered voice.
"No one really knew anything about her…she and Pascal married quite suddenly and she seemed terrified of him the few times I saw her."
Erik didn't have to ask his next question, James offered up the information, "Pascal had been gone several months on one of his 'excursions'. He often went away for months at a time – pursuing women, wine, and whatever else he fancied."
James didn't look at Erik as he continued, "When he came back, he and Jenica had been married and she was ready to have a baby – any day…I remember watching her caress her extended abdomen with love and protection…"
It was at this point that James had looked at Erik and smiled sadly, "…she loved you, my lord…and wanted you more than anything in the world – I saw it in her dark eyes."
That conversation had taken place over a week ago – and it still bothered Erik…it was the first time that James had opened up about his mother. Erik remembered the sadness he saw in James' eyes; and knowing his butler as he did, James was seldom somber unless he had good reason to be.
Sergei watched the emotions play across Erik's handsome face and knew he was waging an inner war.
Erik finally raised his troubled eyes, "What makes you believe this woman is my grandmother?"
"I have spent the greater part of the last five years delving into your past, Erik…at times it has been the most unsettling journey I have ever been on." Sergei admitted, "But I know that you will have no real peace in your life and no chance at true happiness if you don't understand what made you who and what you are."
Christine felt as though she was looking down on the room from a distance and that this was all a dream…she had never heard a more heart-wrenching story – and Erik was right in the middle of it.
"James told me that I look like her…my mother – except for the color of my eyes." Erik murmured.
At that moment, Christine saw Erik as the boy he must have been all those years ago. He was an orphan in every sense of the word – not knowing where he came from and unsure of where he was going.
He was more vulnerable in that moment, than she had ever imagined he could be; he was her protector and hero; her courageous and conquering knight whose heart was as impenetrable as the stone castles that were built by his ancestors.
She rested her hand on his forearm and somehow knew that he appreciated the support and comfort from that one, simple touch.
He made no move to touch her, however, and Christine wanted him to accept all that she was offering him. She had hoped that the intimate kiss they had shared would open his eyes to her interest, but he still distanced himself from her.
"Do you want me to leave, husband…so the two of you can determine what to do next?" Christine offered, praying that he would ask her to stay.
When she said "husband", Erik realized his decisions and the circumstances they evoked did not just affect him and his children…they affected her; and despite the fight his mind was putting up, he knew his heart already belonged to her.
When had she become so breathtakingly beautiful…when had her strong determination and courage become a net spread before him to keep him from falling into a miry pit of despair and uncertainty?
He took her hand in his, turned her wrist up, and placed a kiss upon it; he was unaware of the rush of desire that swept through her at the first breath of contact.
"This concerns you too, Christine…whatever I find out about my past reflects on my ability and willingness to handle the future." He smiled slightly, bringing a familiar glow to his striking eyes.
A flood of relief washed over her and she finally felt as though they had cracked a wall erected between them before they ever married.
Sergei was pleased with the scene unfolding before him. Somehow, he had known Christine would be the perfect woman for Erik…she would not balk at the challenges that being married to him would rise; she would thrive off them.
She was her father's daughter, and Sergei had only seen one other man who held up under pressure and an uncertain future better than Gustav Delancy did – and that man was Erik Laroque.
"We will have to go to her…she is quite frail, but her mind is as sharp as yours." Sergei stated.
"What am I getting into, Sergei?" Erik asked remotely, "Am I going to regret this?"
"You have to understand where you have been in order to understand where you are going." Sergei offered. "You have to do this, if for no other reason than to gain peace of mind."
Erik nodded in agreement. He knew he had to get this particular part of his mysterious past out of the way before he could even hope to pursue any sort of relationship with Christine.
He felt relieved that there was someone out there, other than his father and Kamilla, whose blood he shared; maybe his ghosts would finally leave him alone.
"When do we leave?" Erik finally asked with a nervous smile.
"That is up to you, my friend." Sergei stated.
"I say we get started in the morning – after we have a good breakfast." Christine suggested.
James magically appeared at the door with a pleased smiled on his lips. Christine knew that the butler felt more for Erik than just employer/employee feelings; James thought of Erik as a son – and he wanted what was best for him.
"Dinner is served, my lord…I take it we will have the honor of serving you at the table tonight." James asked Erik, with a teasing glint in his eyes.
Erik frowned playfully at the old man and gave him a quick wink, "Yes James, I will be joining my family and the Duke at the dinner table."
James gave a deep bow and spoke in his most proper "butlerized" tone, "Very good, my lord."
Erik sat at the end of the table; Christine sat to his right, and the Duke to his left. Kamilla was so excited about having her Papa at the table that she didn't care where she sat. Kaveh, Bethany, and Giorgia joined them and Christine could not remember a time when she heard so much giggling in her life.
Giorgia and Kamilla were like two little chattering giggle boxes and Christine loved how Erik kept smiling every time he saw his daughter smile – he was a marvelous father. She couldn't help but think how it would look to see him holding a baby he helped create – with her; one of his own.
"How old is this woman you think is my grandmother, Sergei…and other than being frail, does she appear to be in good health?" Erik asked.
Sergei put his wine glass down and shrugged his heavy shoulders, "I'd say she is in her seventies, and she does appear to be in good health."
Erik shook his head, pleased with the answer Sergei had given.
"You told her about me…everything…and she still wants to meet me?" Erik doubted.
Sergei closed his eyes and nodded, "She knows what made you the way you are…she is eager to give you what you have so long deserved – answers."
"Is she the only one, Sergei…the only one remaining of my mother's family?"
Sergei heard the despondency in Erik's voice and knew that he feared what the answers held…would he find that his mother had been as horrid and beastly as his father was – or had she been as much a victim as Erik?
"As far as I can tell…yes." Sergei assured him.
Erik noted the concern in Sergei's voice and urged him to continue, "I am not sure, Erik…but she seems to have suffered a great many tragedies in her lifetime…I can't even begin to guess what they are."
Erik sat quietly for the remainder of the meal, but his eyes were dark and unreadable. He glanced up every now and then, to keep an eye on Kamilla.
He seemed exceptionally morose, and eventually excused himself – stating that he needed to get some much needed rest.
"The Duke has had me slaving over an opera for the last couple of weeks, and I have lost precious sleep – so I must bid you all good night."
He went over to Kamilla and picked her up into his strong arms. He hugged her tightly and kissed her cheek.
"It's time for little princesses to say good night also – they need to get all that beauty sleep so prince charming can take them away from their grumpy old fathers." Erik teased.
Madam Forsythe seemed to appear out of the woodwork, but Erik lifted his hand to stop her,
"I'll put her to bed, Edith…you take the rest of the night off."
Edith smiled and bowed her head.
"Will you tell me a story, Papa?" Kamilla asked, suppressing a big yawn with her hand.
"I suppose that I could come up with something."
Kamilla hugged his neck and waved at the smiling faces of Christine, Bethany, Giorgia, Kaveh, and Sergei.
"Can Mama come, too?" Kamilla asked; loud enough that Christine's eyes lit up.
Erik had never heard her call anyone "mama", and turned to look at the pleased face of his wife.
"Christine, would you care to join us?" He asked.
She nodded her head, said her goodnights, and followed Erik out of the dining room. This was a good moment; one she would not forget.
She followed Erik and Kamilla down the hall and could not help but admire the wide spread of his shoulders beneath the fine cut of his dinner jacket, and the graceful strength in each step he took.
Once they reached her room, Erik deposited Kamilla down on her bed in a fit of giggles as he mercilessly tickled her.
Christine laughed at his antics until she almost cried. He purposefully allowed Kamilla to get the upper hand and she ended up on top of him tickling him until his deep laughter filled the room.
"Papa, why have you been wearing the mask all the time…I miss seeing the real you." Kamilla asked, innocently.
Erik had not expected that, he assumed the children – like everyone else – preferred him with the mask on.
"Princess, there are many new people in the manor and they would be scared of me if I didn't have the mask covering my face." Erik tried to explain.
Kamilla grimaced at this answer and folded her arms across her chest in protest
"How could anyone be scared of you, Papa…you're the mostest handsomest man I have ever seen?" She exclaimed.
"Well princess, that would be your opinion – few would agree." Erik stated with a tweak to her nose.
Kamilla began to argue with him but he silenced her with a warning, fatherly stare and then gave her a big hug and a kiss on the forehead.
"Now, are you ready for your story?" Erik asked, tucking her in.
Her head shook vigorously and her smile lit up the room.
"Long ago, in a far-off land, there was a great famine. It had not rained for days, weeks, and months. Every day, the people watched for a cloud to appear, and every night they hoped and hoped that rain would come tomorrow."
Erik's voice was so soothingly beautiful and Christine could see the effect it was having on Kamilla – and could feel the effect it was having on her.
"But no rain came. The rivers grew narrower and narrower, until there were no rivers. The ponds grew smaller and smaller until there were no ponds. A little water trickled in some springs, but most of them were dry.
"The leaves and the grasses were wilted and brown. The flowers hung their dusty heads and died. The lambs were too tired to play. The birds no longer chirped and sang. The people had fevers and the little children were too thirsty to play."
Kamilla was taken in by the story and her little eyes were fighting the invading heaviness of sleep. Christine continued to lean against the windowsill and observe the night sky as his story unfolded.
"One day a little boy started out with a tin dipper to try and find water for his sick mother. He went past the dusty plants, the quiet birds, and the sick animals, on and on, up a high hill. At last, he found a tiny spring of water bubbling in the shade of a great stone. He filled his dipper to the brim. Stepping carefully, so as not to spill a drop, he started toward home.
"As he hurried down the hill, he heard a faint sound. There by the path lay a little lamb. It was too sick to bleat, but it looked with longing eyes at the dipper of water; and though the lad would not take any for himself, he poured a few drops on the lambs tongue. Then a wonderful thing happened, the tin dipper changed to silver and was still filled to the brim!
"The little boy hurried home and took the dipper of water to his mother. As she opened her lips to drink, she thought of the nurse who had cared for her for so many days and nights. 'Let the nurse drink first.' She said. And another wonderful thing happened, the silver dipper was changed to gold and it was still filled to the brim!"
Kamilla's eyes were closing now, but every few seconds, they would pop open and she smiled at her father.
"The boy raised the dipper to his mother's lips again, when a knock was heard. There at the door stood a stranger. He was ragged, tired, and pale. Like the poor lamb, he was too sick to speak, but he stretched out his hands for the water.
"Without waiting a moment, the little boy took the dipper to the stranger. As his drank, his face grew beautiful, and he said softly, 'The water shall not be less, but more for the giving.'
"As they looked in wonder, the stranger vanished, but out in the yard there gushed a stream of cool water. Men, women, and children hastened with their cups to drink from it. The animals lapped the water that flowed from the spring and the birds chirped and sang as they bathed in the cool water.
"But the golden dipper had disappeared. They searched in vain for it until the sun went down and the stars came out. Then the little lad looked up into the sky and saw it there. It was no longer made of gold, but of seven glittering stars."
Christine smiled at the wonderful conclusion the story was coming too, she thought it one of the best stories she had ever heard.
"And ever since that long ago time, the mothers of the land take their children to the northern window of their homes, tell them this wonderful story, and give each child a tin dipper. Sometimes, very little children have their dippers changed to silver or gold, but many grow old still carrying their tin dippers. For in that land, no one can buy a dipper of gold; it comes only to those who think first of others." (1)
Erik whispered the last line, bent down, and placed a kiss upon his daughter's forehead.
"Goodnight, Princess." He whispered.
She cuddled under the blankets and smiled in her slumber.
Erik walked quietly to the door and Christine followed, they both exited without making a sound and closed the door behind them.
He quietly walked her to her room and turned to address her, "Thank you for your support tonight, I…" he sighed deeply and smiled shyly, "…I didn't expect it, but I welcomed it."
"I am your wife, Erik…I support you in all things." Christine clarified.
She watched a dim light fade from his eyes, and wondered why he looked so sad.
"Thank you for that wonderful story, did you just make that up?" She asked with a teasing smile, hoping to bring a smile to his handsome face.
Erik shrugged but did not smile, "No, but I don't remember where I heard it…it must have been in the gypsy camp when I was a child."
Christine prayed that he would tell her about his past and trust her with what he hid behind the mask.
He tentatively reached for her hand and rubbed her knuckles with the pad of his thumb, cherishing the feel of her soft skin against his. He turned her hand, lifted her wrist to his lips, and placed a tender kiss to her scented flesh.
"Goodnight, Christine." He murmured.
Christine had had enough of chaste kisses, the passionate kiss they had shared had begun a simmering heat in her female core and she wanted more.
She boldly reached up and grabbed the lapels of his jacket, pulled his lips to hers, and kissed him ferociously – right there in the hallway.
At first, Erik was too stunned to react, but as she molded her curves to his hard body, his arms encircled her and his mouth opened to her pleading tongue.
She moaned deep within her throat and Erik's body reacted instantly. Watching her and being near her every day left him in a semi-aroused state all the time and this was only going to make it worse.
He pulled back and raked his eyes over her flushed features, her lips were slightly parted and her eyes were half closed; anticipating her next move.
His long, black lashes cast shadows on his cheeks as he leaned into her. His elegant, powerful hand glided up her velvety soft nape and his strong, deft fingers swept through her raven curls.
Erik lost all thought of his defenses and surrendered to their passion play. He gently tugged her head back and grazed his lips back and forth over hers. Then, he serially licked his way into her mouth, ravishing and seducing her with every lazy stroke of his tongue.
He was her prisoner, content to throw himself into the dark, unknown abyss of probable heartbreak only to sample her forbidden fruit again.
Christine twined her arms around Erik's neck and opened to him once again; her moist, swollen lips an open invitation to his hungry mouth.
"You taste so good…how did I ever survive without your kiss?" Erik murmured as he pressed his lips to hers again.
He savored the molten sweetness of her mouth and languidly moved his tongue over hers. Her soft sigh sent an explosive tremor through his body and he forced himself to end the kiss. He ran his fingers over the pulse at the base of her neck; and raked his eyes from the swell of her breasts to that soft spot; mesmerized by her heartbeat.
"You make me want things I gave up on long ago…I never expected…after Persia – I thought that part of me that makes me a man had died…years ago." Erik softly stuttered.
He languidly brought his eyes up to lock with hers, "I…" love you, that's what he wanted to say, but his mind would not allow him to say what his heart knew to be the truth, "…must bid you good night before I allow myself to go too far."
He walked away from her with what appeared to be the weight of the world on his shoulders. There was only one thing that Christine could think of to do.
(1) The story is called "A Star Story", taken from The New Barnes Readers Book Two; 1917 edition
TBC