"…an extraordinary bit of luck that no one was there—"
"But Erik, you were there!" Christine clasped my face in her hands, kissing me repeatedly. "Only a few hours before! You must promise me you'll never go there again when no one else is there. I would never have known." She trembled deliciously in my arms.
"Remember your Shakespeare, Christine: 'All's well that ends well.' Anyway, if you're so glad I'm alive, prove it." We eased down on the sofa and went for each other's buttons. My tongue teased her nipple; I slipped my hand under her skirt to stroke her silken thigh. She reached for her toy.
"Erik, can we do this here, do you think?" she whispered. "It would be fun."
"You're quite the naughty angel lately, aren't you?" I mused.
"I'm not; I just love you. I feel as if I'll never get enough of you; the more I have of you, the more I want. It does sound wicked…" she realized.
"Oh mercy—I beg your pardon!" Not my voice…not—someone screamed, it may have been me. Much scrambling and fumbling ensued. I attempted to leap to my feet, dumping Christine on the floor. She yowled, as did I.
"Ow, Christine! Let go!" I helped her from the floor and we finished buttoning up. "Are you alright?"
She nodded. "Are you?"
"Yes…it's not a handle, is all."
"I know! I was falling!"
"I know, I'm sorry. Christine, we really need to move house," I groaned.
"We can't leave Reza alone, Erik," she cried.
"Sweet suffering Christ, Christine! What makes you think I give a damn about leaving him!"
"Oh, stop it! You don't want to leave him either, you know you don't!"
"At this moment, I'd leave him in a heartbeat!"
"Hush…" she padded over to the door to admit the Persian fiend. We all sat around making embarrassed conversation for a few minutes, until Christine had the temerity to desert me. I glared at her fiercely, but she ignored me blithely and sashayed off for a bath.
I felt Reza's smirk before I actually saw it.
"For God's sake, say it and have done with it!" I spat.
"Nothing, nothing; I've instructed Darius to keep a bucket of cold water close at hand whenever you're at home."
"I'm going to bed."
Reza chuckled. "Sleep well, my friend, if you try it."
Two days later, Christine met me at the door when I arrived home and dragged me upstairs. I would have been happier if the look on her face even hinted at bliss, but it did not.
"Christine, what is it, Darling?" I opened mildly.
"We had a meeting today." She was fretful; wringing her hands.
"Yes…and?"
"And they say that Josette's gone missing," she sighed, biting her lip. She turned from me and looked out the window, fretting.
"Erik, you—"
"Christine, you expressly told me not to go after her." I turned her to face me. "I did not go after her."
She flung herself into my arms. "Oh, my Darling, if you knew how sick with worry I've been—and for nothing! Erik! I'm so sorry for doubting you." She looked up at me with angelic adoration.
"I love you more than life, Christine. I would do anything to keep you from being hurt," I confessed. All true; every word.
"I know you would. Oh. Erik, I love you!"
I turned to lead her down to dinner.
"Erik, wait. One more thing, I thought you would like to know, my flowers came today."
"Flowers…" What?
"You know…flowers. No baby."
"Oh. OH! Wonderful news, Darling, thank you!"
'Flowers'. That was a new one on me.
The American Amazons descended upon us the day after Christine advised me that we'd dodged the lightning bolt of incipient parenthood, so even their arrival could not dampen my spirits, at least not immediately.
Mrs Stanton was a dear old granny; it seemed she would tuck me in bed with a hot toddy if I were sick. I adored her from the instant I met her, and could not believe she was dear friends with that other woman. I wished she was my mother.
Anthony was a dragon. It was hatred at first sight, I do believe. She reminded me of Chagny's front-door cow; she gave the impression that she was smelling something nasty when she looked at me. Not that it was personal; I think she just hates anyone who happens to be male. She is precisely my worst nightmare about Christine getting involved with these suffragette types. If I were raised in the Church, I would be convinced that I was meriting indulgences just by sitting across the dinner table from the beast. She eyeballed my wineglass throughout dinner and looked as though she was sucking on lemons. No doubt she imagines I'm a drunken wife-beater. I had to struggle to be on my best behavior; I so wanted to act out and irritate her.
I was quiet throughout dinner. The dragon set the tone early on by irritating me, so I was content to let Reza and Christine be the charming ones. Christine was describing how she came to be involved with what the ladies refer to as 'Our Cause', and attempted to draw me into the conversation by saying something like 'Oh, Erik's been so supportive of me!' I don't see what was wrong with that, frankly; but Suzy B said:
"Surely you don't feel you need his permission, my dear? He isn't your keeper, after all."
"No, but…" Christine placed a sweet hand on mine. The dragon took note; I saw her squint ever-so-subtly. I suspect she thought Christine was appeasing me somehow.
"Does he expect your support when he goes off and does something he wishes to do?"
Dear Mrs Stanton poured a bit of oil on the waters.
"Miss Anthony means nothing personal by it, Mr Leroux." (I had acquired a last name when I understood that Suzy B would not be informal with me.) "She is simply always thinking of our cause, you see. She never switches off," she smiled.
"Of course," I replied, biting my tongue until it bled.
"The personal is the political," pronounced Suzy B.
Riiight.
After dinner, the ladies flounced off to a Big Meeting. Reza and I decided there was nothing for it but to get a snootful and laugh at them.
"Egads, Erik, I hate to admit it, but you were half right. Miss Anthony—"
"She's a bloody dragon, Reza; a dragon. I don't know what you're going to do to keep your bits safe; as least I've got Christine with me for protection. Maybe you and Darius should sleep in shifts, keeping watch."
"Mrs Stanton is a dear lady, though," he added.
"Oh, absolutely. I wish she'd come alone. Here, why don't you marry her, daroga? She's a widow…"
"And you're a madman! What the devil gave you the idea I wanted to be married?" Reza cried.
"Oh…I had no idea you were a confirmed bachelor. I thought you were just…waiting for the right woman to come along."
"I assure you, Mrs Stanton is not her!"
"Reza, I daresay, you're positively ruffled. I've never seen you this way before. It's delightful when the shoe is on the other foot!"
When I came down for breakfast, Suzy B was already there. Ack!
"Good Morning, Miss Anthony."
"Good Morning, Mr Leroux."
"I hope you slept well." I think I was being a very good boy.
"I did, thank you."
We sipped coffee in silence for a few minutes.
"So what do you really think of all this, Mr Leroux?" the dragon asked.
"All this Women's Suffrage, you mean?"
"Yes."
"I want Christine to be happy; whatever it takes," I shrugged.
"That is very progressive of you."
"Not particularly; I have been alone a long time. I have no wish to be alone again."
"So you tolerate it," she smirked.
"No, Madame: I embrace it. It irritates her husband, you see."
I actually got a grudging smile out of old dragon.
As soon as I was able, I exacted a heavy compensation from Christine for my forbearance, which she paid happily. We were fairly agreeably bunked on the floor in my room. I offered Christine the coffin repeatedly; it's more comfortable than the floor, to be sure, but she preferred to stay with me. Not that we didn't avail ourselves of the plush interior for a bit of recreation, but it wasn't really comfortable for a night's sleep.
"Christine. I was thinking; do you reckon they make double coffins?"
"I was just thinking the same thing!"
"You see? It's begun already; we're thinking alike. Soon we'll begin to look alike," I said sinisterly, nuzzling her neck.
"Oh, really?" she humored me.
"Yes, my Dear, and once you look like me, my plan will be complete, and I'll send you back to Chagny. Mwahahaha!"
"ACK! Erik! You idiot!"
Much tickling, giggling, and squealing ensued. I can just imagine what our lemon-faced houseguest thought of that.