"Good morning, my friend, I missed you and the Comtesse yesterday."
"Just coffee, Darius. Don't stop it coming until I run from the room screaming."
"I gather the rapprochement is proceeding apace. Well? Have you nothing to say?"
"Is meddlesome interrogation a national pastime in Persia, or were you banished from your native land because of this personal character flaw?"
"Good heavens. Things must not be proceeding apace. Surely you'd be in a more sociable frame of mind if they were," cracked the Persian wag.
"I used up all my sociability yesterday, thank you. I'm…convalescing. Perhaps by Wednesday."
"I see. More red meat and greens, I think, and not so much coffee. Plenty of clear, fresh water, and should you need, ah, an immediate burst of energy, fruit juice."
"Reza, I must apologize in advance. I have wracked my brain for a more cordial way of putting this, and in my current state, I am afraid that the best I can do is: Shut Up."
"Oh dear, Erik; you are suffering if that is the best you can do, you heartless fiend. And after I was so concerned for you yesterday."
"Concerned for me? Why?"
"Because I thought you might well be coming through the floor." He had the nerve to laugh when I turned colors. "But, I digress. Good job, Erik, giving her the devil for going out pamphleteering with the herd."
"Right." I sipped my coffee and tried not to squirm.
"You did give her a piece of your, ah, mind, did you not?"
"Not yet…it…didn't come up yesterday."
"No, I rather suspected it didn't."
"I intend to take it up with her today," I insisted.
"Of course," the Persian nag smirked.
"Good morning," Christine glided into our midst. She declined her customary seat across the table, choosing instead to remain by my side, where she could hold my hand and stroke my thigh surreptitiously. Maddening little vixen. Immediately the daroga reverted to his false charming face.
"Good morning, Christine, you're a ray of sunshine on this dreary morning," he beamed. Good grief.
"Thank you, Reza, you always say the kindest things." Good grief. Christine turned to me, her sweet face all concern.
"I hope you won't be too late tonight, Darling."
"Barring something unforeseen, I should be home as I normally am. What are you planning for today, Angel?"
"Well, first I have to check in with my friends to see if our leaflets have turned up any response. We may have to let a hall for our meeting, if there's too much response to fit all the ladies in the house," she worried.
"Response to what? What was this leaflet thing about, precisely?" I grumbled. Christine dashed off to locate one so I could see for myself.
"Erik, are you sure you want to ruin your day so early?" Reza quipped.
"Here!" Christine waited with breathless pride as I scanned the leaflet.
"POLITICAL EQUALITY for WOMEN!" "CONTROL of our LIVES and our BODIES!" "DECIDE for YOURSELF!" "SUFFRAGE!" It gushed on in like fashion; too many upper case letters and exclamations for my liking. I might have been able to dismiss it as a girlish prank, except for Christine's name and address on the leaflet.
"Christine, what could you have been thinking, putting your name and address on this…this…nonsense?" I demanded.
"Nonsense? Erik, it's not—"
"And when I refer to it as nonsense, Madame, I assure you that I'm being charitable," I snapped. "Don't you realize that if someone were to take this seriously, you could find yourself in harm's way, advertising your whereabouts like this?"
"There are many people who take this seriously, Erik," she replied, returning to her seat.
"I don't mean your silly little ladies, Darling; I mean, what if some men were to take exception? Men who don't know you and imagine that you're really out to overthrow the natural order of things?" I explained. I covered her little hand with my own. I was fast becoming late for work, but giving Christine the proper perspective on this new hobby of hers was nearly as important.
She mumbled something and withdrew her hand from mine, folding it neatly in her lap with its mate.
"I'm sorry, my dear, what did you say?"
"I said, it's not the natural order of things simply because you say so." She sounded like a petulant child.
"Christine, that's quite enough. Now, I've indulged you in this because it's been relatively harmless thus far, but taking it public like this…it smacks of rabble rousing. It's…unlovely, Darling…and unwise. Now, today, I'd like you to meet your lady friends and do everything you can to gather up any of these stray leaflets that you find. Please. I believe I may speak for Reza in that you're free to continue your little…study group here at home, but no more leaflets and certainly no more…public agitating. You're out of your league, child." I patted her cheek. "Alright?" I smiled, kissed her adorably furrowed brow, and started off.
"No."
"I beg your pardon, Darling?"
"I said, No." she repeated, more firmly.
"If you'll excuse me…" the daroga was set to run for the hills.
"No, Reza, sit down. There's no argument here, you needn't make yourself scarce. Besides, I think it may be educational for Christine to understand that it isn't just Erik being bloody-minded, but that any man worth his salt would find such behavior objectionable in a young lady of her quality."
Christine was blushing scarlet. Good, at long last she was realizing the error of her ways.
"There's no reason to be so dejected, Angel. So long as we understand each other, there's no need. And you do understand, don't you?"
"I understand, but I'm not going to stop. It isn't little, it isn't silly, and it isn't meant to be harmless. We mean every word on those leaflets," Christine snapped.
"That's enough, Christine. Not another word," I ordered.
"You can't tell me what to do."
"Please, Erik, Christine—"
"Leave it, Reza! Christine, I'm going to work now. Perhaps a bit of time alone will clear your head."
"My head is clear! I'm not your property, Erik!" she fairly shrieked after me.
I was sufficiently busy for the morning that I had no time to think of Christine until I paused for lunch. There must be one or two of those harridans that were particularly strident and man-hating. I thought of putting a word in with Darius; when he was serving them their tea and biscuits, if he could make a note of such things it might be instructive. If I forbade Christine associating with those particular Amazons, I felt it would go a long way toward cooling her fevered brain.
I was just dipping into my cheese and bread when Jules rumbled in.
"There's a gentleman here," he growled.
That annoying git Chagny was attempting to muscle his way past Jules' ponderous bulk. I could have kissed Jules at that moment; he so obviously despised the boy.
"It's alright, Jules. Thank you." I nodded. Jules shot one final nasty look at the Comte for good measure.
"What is this? What sort of business are you about?" the handsome brat demanded, brandishing some scrap of paper at me. "'Christine, Comtesse de Chagny!'" he read. Surprise, that. I hadn't realized he'd completed his schooling. Then I realized he'd found a copy of the leaflet.
"Ah, yes, that will be Madame la Comtesse's little diversion." I explained. "She and her lady friends have created themselves a 'Women's Studies group'."
"Women's studies?" Of course he'd never heard of it.
"Yes, you know. The pore over legal books to see whether there's a loophole whereby they can initiate divorce if their husband gets drunk on a Tuesday. They snoop through medical journals to find out if there's a way to avoid pregnancy or render their husbands impotent. They try to extrapolate and concoct pseudo-philosophical arguments in favor of giving women the vote."
"I won't have it! That's my name on this thing!"
"Yes. I know." I replied blandly.
"What are you doing about it?" he demanded.
"Everything I can. I only learned about the leaflets after it was too late yesterday. When they were simply gathering and talking their mindless theories over tea, I indulged it, I admit. She's so adorable, it impossible for a man not to spoil her, don't you agree?" I crinkled my 'nose' confidentially at him. It was delicious to rub a bit of salt in his wounds.
"Naturally," I continued, "when I learned that they were beginning to take themselves seriously, I took it under immediate advisement. Christine and I had a chat this morning. I explained my position in the clearest possible terms; she understands it is no frivolous matter when she makes public her name and address. I've charged her with collecting any leaflets she is able to find today, and instructed her that there are to be no repeat performances."
"Right." The Comte nodded, seemingly mollified. "Is there anything I can do?"
Yes. Go to hell.
"I have it in hand."
"I caution you, Sir, that I will not have my name tainted," he puffed like the little peacock he was.
"It has been seen to," I repeated, tiring of his company.
"She never carried on so with me," he accused.
"Which is precisely why she left, you dolt; you wouldn't let her speak," I snapped.
"And what good is letting her have her say if it's to come out with scandalous material like this?"
"I told you, it is well in hand. She's perfectly compliant and agreeable outside of this little craze, and now that it's been seen to, there is no further cause for concern. Good day." I returned my attention to my lunch. I could sense that the genius had not taken the hint and left me.
"Is she happy?" he asked finally. Wounded lover to the end.
"Deliriously so, if I say so myself and shouldn't," I assured him.
He nodded. "Will you tell—"
"No, sir, I will tell her nothing."
"I only want her to know that I can rest easy if she's genuinely happy."
"And I shall do all I can to see that you continue to rest easy," I grinned as nastily as I could. Quite nastily, I'll wager, considering what I have to work with.