Realizing that we had not parted on the absolute best of terms, I decided to bring a trifle home for Christine to reassure her that I was not still angry about her disrespectful scene of the morning. I found a lovely rose gold bracelet which I thought would do the trick. I was quite pleased to see that there was no herd of buffalo in the parlor for a change. Excellent, a nice quiet evening; remove Reza and it will be a perfect evening.
In the parlor, Christine and Reza were awaiting Darius' word for dinner. I kissed her extravagantly, hoping to forecast my plans for the evening. My darling was a bit less effusive than I would have liked, but I attributed this to Reza's presence. When Darius summoned us to dinner, I held Christine back to present her with her gift in private.
"Oh, Erik, it's lovely! But it isn't my birthday or anything."
"It's just an 'I love you' gift," I replied.
"And I love you. Here, help me," she smiled. I helped her with the clasp and we went in to dinner after rather less of a kiss than I would have preferred.
"Look, Reza, what Erik gave me for no reason at all!" she chirped.
"Very lovely indeed, Christine, it suits you."
"How was your day, Darling?" I opened.
"Fine. I was a bit tired, I didn't really do very much today," she replied thinly.
"I hope you're not falling ill," I worried.
"Oh no. I'm sure it's nothing like that," she smiled. "How was your day?"
"Uneventful." I had decided that it would avail nothing to reveal the Comte's visit to Christine. I wasn't lying, anyway. A visit from him is most definitely uneventful, to say nothing of unfortunate.
After dinner, Christine took herself up to a fragrant bath, and the daroga and I retreated for cognac.
"Prudent decision, the bracelet," Reza opened.
"Hm."
"She was mad as a lovely little hornet after you departed this morning."
"Right, well, you see, a shiny trinket turneth away wrath," I replied. "My little Christine is returned to her charming self. The Comte called on me today."
"Really? What did he want?"
"To warn me that he would not tolerate his name being splattered all over those ridiculous leaflets. I assured him that things were well in hand. I daresay I'm managing it more effectively than he could."
"Good for you, Erik. I'm glad you were able to converse with him as civilized men."
"Whatever you say, Reza. I was just this side of curt; he really is intolerably dull." I drained my cognac. "Well, Daroga, I'm off to make an early night of it. Don't worry about the floor."
"Oh my. Good night."
I was quickly disappointed in my plans. Christine's upstairs behavior was equally restrained as her downstairs behavior had been. Not really restrained; rather, non-existent. It was as if I was keeping her from a book she desperately wanted to finish before bed. Not that I pretend any expertise, but I was singing from the same libretto, so to speak, as I had last night with great success, and I was provoking no reaction whatsoever. No sighs, no squirms, no insistent nudges. Finally, utterly at a loss, I resolved to dig for an explanation as quickly as possible, thereby salvaging the evening.
"Darling, are you…unwell?"
"No, I told you I'm fine, Erik."
"I meant, ah…"
"Oh. No."
"Well, I'm wondering what's troubling you, because you seem quite disinterested in the proceedings," I explained. What followed next was easily one of the most extraordinary moments I've experienced.
"Oh, I'm sorry, Dear," Christine replied, ever so sincerely. Then, quick as you please, she drew her bed gown off, tossed it aside, and settled flat on her back like a pretty little corpse on a slab.
"There," she nodded, and laid stock still. To say I was confused would be an understatement. Christine was apparently awaiting my pleasure obediently. I renewed my efforts, but she remained unmoved, and unmoving.
"Christine, what is this? Do you intend to participate at all? To move, to vocalize, anything?" I ultimately demanded.
"No; why?"
"Why? Why not? What happened to last night?"
"Last night I was under the impression you wanted a partner to share your life with," she replied.
"I do!"
"Oh. Well, that's not what you said this morning, Darling. This morning you indicated that I was to obey you unquestioningly and do precisely as I was told. If that's what you want, then, that's what you'll get. Which is it, Erik? It's up to you."
"I want it to be just as it has been," I felt this should have gone without saying, frankly.
"I do, too, Erik," Christine cooed, allowing me to draw her delectable form closer. Much better, she seemed to be herself again. "Erik, I just wanted to mention…"
"Yes?" I suspect I sounded a bit irritated.
"I intend to carry on with my meeting and organizing activities, and I didn't collect any leaflets today. I didn't want you to think that I obeyed your orders from this morning, because that would be dishonest."
"Christine, must we discuss this NOW?"
"Yes, I'd like to make certain that we understand each other, as you said this morning. Do you understand, Erik?"
"I understand that it's unchristian of you to present your suffragette's platform while in the nude. You have me at a cruel disadvantage, Christine. Cover yourself, for god's sake!" I stormed.
Christine drew the sheet up around herself. It was heartbreaking to see my toy taken away, but if she was going to harangue me with this women's rights stuff, she could at least do so covered and allow me to think.
"I would like very much if we could limit these discussions to breakfast and dinner, and definitely out of bed hours. It has a decidedly unromantic effect, Christine, do you follow?"
"Yes. I follow. It has a decidedly unromantic effect on me when you tell me that what's important to me is silly, and little, and against the natural order."
I drew a martyred sigh. "So you're saying that if I don't permit you to carry on with this rabble rousing, man-hating nonsense, you'll…" I was about to say 'deny me my rights'. Of course, the problem was, I didn't have any rights. Ha ha.
"I'll what?" she asked.
"Ah, you'll…never mind. What is it you're trying to convey, Christine? How is it you want me to behave?" I had to ask, because I frankly had no idea anymore, since she'd turned into a suffragette.
"I'm trying to convey that I'm not a child, and you're not my master. Don't you remember what I told you about Raoul, about how he never listened to me?" Inexplicably, Christine elected at this moment to melt against me and kiss me warmly. "Erik, I want you to be my lover."
"I want to be your lover, my Angel." I rather felt this should go without saying as well, especially with all the evidence she had close at hand attesting to the truth of it. Once again, I happened to be just where I wanted to be, and it seemed that Christine might forget about that English Curse…
"Erik, you understand, then? I'm not your property," her little hands were surprisingly effective at impeding my progress.
"Why don't you just claim my trousers in the morning, then, Woman—or does that term no longer apply?" I admit, I was feeling quite frustrated with the current state of affairs.
"What? Get off, get off me, you brute!" Christine exploded into a riot of flailing arms and legs. Dammit. Ouch and dammit. I was rendered breathless and speechless by a particularly vicious, if unintentional, attack. I could not howl, or vomit, both of which I desperately longed to do. All I could do was crumple into a tangle of noiselessly screeching nerve endings. My ruthless assailant fussed and fretted; I believe she thought I might die. So did I.
"Erik, ohh, you poor dear, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it—please say you know I didn't mean it, please?" She petted me and sympathized, and even rushed all the way downstairs to fetch me a glass of wine. I returned to my former self, slowly. I was not entirely certain that I had not been damaged beyond repair, but Christine was extremely solicitous and insisted upon making a detailed examination of her own. I could hardly refuse…and when she suggested that perhaps she might kiss and make it all better…
Ultimately we were both well satisfied that I was none the worse for my ordeal.
"Erik, I hate to bring this up again, but…you do understand, don't you?" Her fingers did a spidery dance across my chest.
"Yes. Yes, I understand, I'm to keep my mouth shut." I growled, unconvincingly.
"That's not precisely how I'd prefer you put it, but it's a start," she agreed.