Chapter Fifteen: Lessons II

Erik cast his eyes over the little device which Casanova referred as the English vestment and his assurance cap. The first of its kind was a present from the Earl of Condom to his king who had countless mistresses, to protect him from contracting syphilis. Men did not invent it to protect women from the shame of getting pregnant outside the wedlock. Nonetheless, it did manage just to do that, although the male preference for virgins was a clear indication that men preferred enjoying their sexual encounters without its aid. The thought of making Raoul raise his rival's child as his own in blissful ignorance entertained him a little, but he had no wish to bring another life into the world. It could also jeopardize Christine's fragile refutation and raise Raoul's suspicion. Raoul had already been separated from his Christine for longer than two whole months. He would rather withdraw himself from Christine the very last minute than put her through unwanted pregnancy. He had no wish to break her marriage. He was glad that Raoul would be always there for Christine.

Christine sat on the long couch, smiling anxiously, as he placed a tea tray on the low table in front of her. He filled a cup and handed it to her, gesturing her to drink it. She complied, searching his eyes and waiting for him to speak first.

"Shall we?" He rose, moving towards the piano. Her hand quickly grabbed his arm, stopping him moving further away from her.

"You told me you could be seduced," she said, her eyes now calm and resolute. "Seduce me then," he replied softly but firmly, kneeling down beside her.

She took his face in her hands and kissed him, letting all her passion find its outlet through her lips. He returned her kiss with equal force and found her eyes smiling.

"I've decided." Her eyes contained fire as her hands found their ways around his neck. "I want to make love to music."

He lifted her up effortlessly and carried her to the cellar, which he had converted into a guest room. The room was dark, only lit by a few candles. He laid her on the bed, his eyes staring into her determined eyes.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" he asked, foreseeing the response. "You understand that what we are going to share will not last."

"I can do this for that very reason," she replied, her voice not wavering, "because I know you will let me go."

They made love in complete silence, without a single word of sweet nothings. The promise of Don Juan was fulfilled. Raging fire consumed them both while their bodies were intertwined. He caressed her contented body gently afterwards. She let out a soft sigh. Looking at her beautiful face and remembering her desperate embrace, he understood it wasn't just a desire that had guided her. She desperately needed to love him physically.

"What are you feeling?" he asked, brushing her hair with his slender fingers.

"I feel shame. I feel sad that I betrayed the trust of my husband who loves me with all his heart and soul. Yet," she paused a little, closing her eyes in deep thought. "I feel liberated. Because the shame I feel now is nothing… compared with the shame that had haunted me… I betrayed my Angel… denied him and my deepest urge. I feel somehow I made it up for him. And I feel happy … because I feel… I know what it is like to succumb myself entirely to him, without fear…without struggle."

"You had to know, didn't you?"

She did not say anything but Erik knew the answer.

"Christine… do you hear music in your heart? Does it touch your soul?" Erik asked, seeing how she looked like that vulnerable child he had once known and loved. He carefully wrapped his arms around her bare shoulder, which looked unbearably fragile.

"You will still teach me, even after this?"

"No …. There is nothing that I can teach you." He shook his head, tender sadness filling his eyes. "Your techniques are now perfect. You understand pain and passion. These qualities will make your songs special and endearing. I will not provide my guidance when you do not need it. Just follow your heart, and you will find your song."

Her eyes were sad but showed understanding. He pressed his lips against her forehead. His kiss was brief and gentle. Through that kiss, he told her he had forgiven her. Christine felt peace in that same moment. She somehow felt that the kiss was from her angel and that he had finally forgiven her.

Six weeks later, Christine received a letter sealed with a skull wax. It read:

Dear Christine,

As you must be aware by now, the French army is badly losing the war, and the defeat is immanent. I have now located your husband. He is leading his regiment towards Versailles in retreat. Go and find him. Do not let him risk coming back to Paris to find you. Parisians are angry with the government and its incompetent nobles.

I bid you a farewell. Our paths shall never cross again. I have forgiven you and trust that you did the same for me.

Yours one last time,

O.G.