Raoul rode back into town, it was nearly three o'clock, and his group was the first to return, their section having been smaller than most. He saw his father walking out of a shop so he dismounted his horse, walking over to him he said "any news?"
His father reached out, shaking his hand in formal fashion. "Have you found anything?" Raoul searched his father' always stoic face for some indication. "Son, I've not found your Christine, but I did manage to find her friend, Meg is it?"
Raoul felt instantly ashamed. He had been so fixed on finding Christine that he'd not given much thought to Meg's whereabouts.
"She is staying with her ballet mistress mother at the inn over there." The elder De Chagny pointed toward Sara's inn. "They are indeed fortunate…Madame Giry's uncle has come to retrieve them" he said.
"Retrieve them? They are leaving the Opera House….Paris?" Raoul looked strained now. He'd lost Christine, and now her trusted friend…his trusted friend.
"Yes they are traveling to the country until the Opera House is repaired. They'll be leaving at the end of the week."
"She'll not soon forgive me…" Raoul trailed off. He looked down at the ground. His thoughts were so consumed by Christine that he had devoted little room to the horrors or losses that others were suffering.
"Who'll not forgive you?" his father asked. Forgiveness, nay, apology was unfashionable, and certainly beneath a Vicomte. Any social faux pas that had been made would certainly be forgiven without the formality of apology, given the circumstances.
"Let us have some tea father, Raoul now pointing toward the café he'd frequented several times in the past days. The two men walked toward the café, pushing open the heavy wood door. They were greeted with warm hellos from the bevy of men who were inside.
XXXXX
Meg and Madame Giry were dressed, empty bags in hand. Madame Giry having left a note under Erik's door… "My dear Stephan: Meg and I have gone to collect some of our things. We will be back before the dinner hour. Love your niece"
They strode out of the Inn, making their way to the Opera House.
XXXX
Raoul sat down with his father in the far corner at a table only large enough for two. The owner brought over two fresh cups of tea, and a few scones. Placing them down without a word, sensing the men had something serious to discuss.
Raoul began "the night of the fire, Christine begged me not to make her do it. Meg begged me on behalf of Christine, but I assured them both that everything was prepared and that were absolutely certain of success." Raoul seemed to be far away now, having seemingly traveled back in time, the gleam of the raging fires nearly apparent in his eyes. "Meg was Christine's confidante, nearly a sister to her….she must be heart broken….in my grief….I had forgotten that she would be suffering also." Raoul's eyes wet with tears that threatened to spill over.
"Then go talk to her. She was there preparing for dinner when I was there not long ago. Find out where she is going, and perhaps you can deliver the news to her yourself should you find Christine." He sat the cup back in its saucer, reaching for a scone.
Raoul's eyes shown the first twinkle in days, a smile crossing his face briefly. "What a good idea Father!" he exclaimed. Raoul sipped the last of his tea, rising to go. "I'll take care of this" his father said. "You go. It will soon be time to meet all the men back at the police office, I will see you then."
Raoul put his cloak around his shoulders, fastening it beneath his chin. "I'll see you then sir." Raoul nodded his head in polite gesture, not having donned a hat to tip. His father nodded in acknowledgement. Raoul turned back and said "walk with me?" His father welcomed the invitation, as he rose and joined him. They walked toward the door, the senior De Chagny leaving a small pile of coins on the counter for the owner. Then exiting the building with his son at his side.
"Twice the cost" the café owner said, smiling as he picked up the pile of silver coins. He shan't tire of guests like this. Perhaps he would see much more of them in the coming months as the repair work began.
XXXXXXX
Knowing they were completely alone now, Christine walked about freely. "I'll take the dishes to the kitchen before Sara returns" she said, moving toward the door. "Be always on your guard my dear…always." Erik said, talking seriously. "I will" Christine replied.
She carefully moved down the staircase, feeling light as a feather on the wings of love, but having to be deliberate and slow in her movements, it was sheer torture. She wanted to scream to the world that she was in love. Run through the trees yelling Erik's name at the top of her lungs. Yet now, she moved as slowly and stiffly as she thought a seventy year old woman might.
She was turning from the sink when she heard a quiet knock at the front door of the inn. She moved slowly to the window in the kitchen, trying not to make a sound. Her breath caught in her chest, as she saw who was at the door…it was Raoul! "No!" a small gasp escaping from her tightened throat. She felt faint. The knocking became much louder and more insistent. She cowered now in the corner, hoping every shadow would obscure her from view.
Part of her yearned to go to her friend, telling him that she was sorry, that she would always care for him…. but she knew she could never speak to him again. The pain and misery on his face brought tears to Christine's eyes. Her childhood friend's heart was breaking and she was the cause of it. If only she could comfort him, but she knew she could not. A tear dropped over her lower lid, followed by several more, each traveling to her chin and dripping down on her chest. He had been good to her…she knew that he loved her….perhaps as much as Erik did…but he could find another…one more suitable in his father's eyes…. Christine belonged to Erik…had always belonged to Erik, and she was his forever now. Christine couldn't watch any longer.
She slipped behind the kitchen door, muffling slightly the sound of his knocking. She glanced around and was at once relieved to see a servant's stairway that led to the upstairs. She slipped up them quickly, finding herself in a closet, with a door on the other side. She passed through it, and was in the hallway at the opposite end of the hall of her room. She walked ever so quietly until at last she was on the other side of the door in her room, her back pressed against it, her chest heaving. She looked around….the room was empty. "Stephan, she called out shyly… the name seeming so foreign on her tongue. He was not there. The window was ajar just slightly.
Her eye caught a small envelope on the table. She picked it up, opening it, she read "My dear Elizabeth: I am feeling a bit better today, but regret that we must cut our visit short, health reasons considered. I've gone to inquire about a hansom to take us home. Your loving husband, Stephan."
Christine put the note back on the desk. She plopped face down on the neatly made bed. Her chest heaving up and down under the weight of her silent cries. She was overwhelmed by the emotions, not having expected them. She had no doubt that she loved Erik, perhaps beyond reason or rationale, but she could not quell the guilt that she felt having put Raoul through the ordeal. She was inexperienced at relationships, feeling both childish and heartless as she followed her passions, and in the heat of the moment allowed conflicting feelings to dominate her mind. She didn't know if she could ever forgive herself for all she had done. She hung her head, the quote "all is fair in love and war" running through her mind. The irony of those simple words…love perhaps is as violent and cold as war at times…it is the very nature of the beast.
She startled as she heard voices in the rooms below. Moving to the door as quietly as she could, pressing her ear to the wood. She could definitely hear Sara's voice, but who's was the other…. she knew in an instant. Sara was back from her visit and had invited Raou'l into the house!
Christine's pulse quickened, her heart beating wildly in her chest, eyes darting back and forth in the room, not really knowing what to do. She felt faint again. She sat down on the edge of the bed trying to rationalize what was happening. "He couldn't know you were here….he'd have police with him if he suspected…but why here, of all the inns on this street, in this City…why here? Maybe he'd seen Madame Giry, maybe he'd talked to someone, maybe it was coincidence…after all they were searching…"
Christine felt herself starting to calm until she heard footsteps on the stairs. She had to hide, but where? She stepped first toward the window, thinking about leaping through it, then looking at the dressing screen, thinking she could hide there, but what if Sara peered around it….as she heard the steps walking the hall toward her room, she leapt under the covers of her bed, laying face down and pulling them up around her shoulders. A gentle knock at the door. "Sir? Mum? Anyone in there?" Sara called out. Christine at once was wishing she had locked the door behind her, but alas she had not.
She heard the door open ever so slightly and again Sara called out "Sir? Mum?" Christine tried not to breathe. Sara walked in and over to the bed.
Christine could feel Sara's eyes boring into the back of her head. "Mum?" Christine just groaned quietly as if an old woman being disturbed in her slumber. Sara sighed, and walked away from the bed "least she's not dead" she muttered.
Christine could just make out Sara's figure in the corner of her eye. She had walked over to the dresser and had picked up the envelope. Christine realized now why Erik was so careful, one just never knew. Sara flipped the envelope over several times before sitting it down, never having opened it.
"Thank you" Christine said in her mind. Sara walked back to the door and out of the room. She waited until she heard footsteps once again on the stairs. Christine let out a singular gasp. "That was too close…Erik is right…we must go…must go at once."
Christine laid back down on the bed trying to listen to the conversation downstairs. She could make out only bits and pieces. She could hear Sara offering him a cup of coffee. She heard Raou'l clear his throat, and then she heard what she thought was a sob.
The tears returned to Christine's eyes. Why must she mortally wound one man to save another? Her heart ached for both men…one had her heart as a child, and one now embraced her as his wife. She'd not wanted to hurt either of them. Raoul would go on to find another, he'd have no trouble, though she knew he would miss her. Erik had but one lover, she had chosen…she had chosen.
He seemed to stay forever. The lights were starting to dim as the sun began its descent in the Western Sky. A mysterious beautiful blue, orange, and yellow being cast in its failing rays.
Christine had lain silently fading in and out of consciousness. The voices below no longer threatened her, she'd long since given up trying to make out what they were saying.
Her dreams returned to her, Erik on the beach playing with their daughter, Christine now cradling a tiny swaddle in her arms, someone she heard herself calming, "Gustave…shhhhh." She smiled in her sleepiness. Yet on the other side of the shore, just beyond the jagged rocks, a lonely form sat weeping. She rose, walking towards the pitiful thing. Her husband and daughter off in a distance, the baby no longer in her arms. She reached out to touch its hunched shoulders. It flailed around, writhing as if she had stabbed it with a knife, it's eyes now wide and fixed on her. "Raoul!"
She jerked awake, sitting straight up on the bed gasping for breath. In the nearly dark room she felt arms embrace her. "Shhhh Christine it is alright," he whispered in her ear "I am here to guard you, you have nothing to fear." She grabbed onto him, as a lost child does her savior. "Shhh now, it is o.k." Christine began to cry "don't ever leave me, I'm lost without you."
"I shan't leave your side again my dear. Do not worry for the voices you hear, they mean us no harm, they do not indeed know we are here." "I love you" was all she could manage as she collapsed into Erik's strong, protective arms. He cradled her, stroking the back of her head, rocking back and forth. Any doubts that may have flickered in the back of his mind now dissolving, she trusted him…trusted him completely.
Christine began to relax into her husband's embrace, tears of terror turning dry, a comforting sob emitting from her throat. She was so tired…so tired. Erik kissed her tenderly, laying her head against his chest, leaning against the headboard. He sat gently stroking her back with one hand, the other hand lying on her cheek. She felt safe. The world around her was in turmoil, but in his arms the world outside did not exist.
"Erik, he's been here for hours…Sara came upstairs looking for us, she picked up the letter…but she didn't read it…I understand now why you told us to always.." "Shhh….I know. I've been watching the house, and this room since the sun began to set. I was never far from you my dear, and would have been swift in my action should you have been threatened in any way."
Erik leaned down kissing Christine's forehead. Christine briefly smiled, nestling her head inside of Erik's shirt. Somehow clothing made her feel far away from him. It was only the touch of her skin against his that truly brought her comfort. Erik put his arms around her, holding her closely. Sitting in silence, listening only to the muffled voices below, the wood floor the only barrier between the man she loved, and the man she had thought she loved.
XXXX
Meg and Madame Giry were making their way back from the Opera House. Both women carting a large traveling bag apiece. They'd left some things behind, but the most valuable things were packed neatly inside. Their plan was working, everything seemed to be proceeding as it should.
Meg could see Sara moving back and forth in the steamed window. No doubt setting the table for dinner she thought. "Mother, do you think that Eri…um..Stephan and Elizabeth will join us for dinner this evening?" Madame Giry shot Meg a knowing glance. "Perhaps my dear, perhaps."
Madame Giry pushed open the door with her shoulder, having unlatched it. She came in, back toward the kitchen, helping Meg set her bag down by the inside of the door. Meg blanched, her face went white and she hurled forward into her mother's arms. "Meg, what on earth, my dear are you alright?" Madame Giry supporting the full weight of her daughter in her arms.
Madame Giry heard scuffling behind her as someone came around to assist her. Thinking it was Sara, she began "thank you Sara, I have no idea what…" Madame Giry choked on her words as they caught in her throat. There at her side was Raoul! Madame Giry knowing full well in that instant why Meg had fainted. "Raoul!" Madame Giry said, startle in her voice.
"Madame Giry, let me help you bring Meg to the settee." Raoul grabbed Meg under each arm, as Madame Giry put her arms under her knees. She tripped on her dress causing the three of them to nearly topple to the floor. Raoul reached out and scooped Meg up into his arms, carrying her over to the couch, laying her gently down, propping a pillow behind her neck.
"Sara?" Raoul called out, could you bring us a cool damp cloth?" Sara disappeared into the kitchen. Raoul turned, going over to help Madame Giry up from her knees. He embraced her "thank God you are alright. I am sorry I've not paid a visit sooner." He said leaning away from her and then back into an embrace. Madame Giry could do nothing more than put her hands on Raoul's back, returning his feelings. "You've no doubt been busy" was all Madame Giry could manage.
They both turned their attentions back to Meg. Sara returned from the kitchen, small basin of cool water in one hand, a soft cloth in the other. Before either woman could react, Raoul was dipping and wringing the cloth in the water, gently applying it to Meg's forehead.
Sara grabbed a newspaper, and began fanning Meg. Madame Giry holding her hand, kneeling at her side now. The three of them sat, all eyes fixed on Meg. She stirred ever so slightly, blinking quickly adjusting her eyes to the light. Meg gasped, the first face coming into focus was that of Raoul's. "Meg, Meg…." Raoul said. She, hoping it had been a dream. "Breathe!" She could hear Sara's voice in the background. She let out a long breath…she hadn't realized she had been holding it.
"Meg…" she could hear her mother's voice, though she couldn't see her. The world coming back into focus now, Meg realized that only the four of them were in the room, no police, no Erik, no Christine. She struggled to upright herself, Raoul leaning in to support her. She reached up and put her arm around his shoulders as he lifted her into a sitting position.
She felt lightheaded but fought the urge to close her eyes. She could see her mother behind Raoul and Sara, her eyes wide with concern, fear flickering behind the deep blue. "Meg, can you hear me?" She looked over at Raoul. He looked older to her. His eyes rimmed in red, his cheeks patches of red and white from hours of shedding tears. His normally well coifed hair, a bit disheveled, his cravat loosened, his jacket abandoned on the chair.
Meg had never been this close to Raoul. She knew he was handsome, but his closeness, even under these circumstances was overwhelming. "Yes, I am quite alright, thank you." Meg managed. Her mother looking somewhat relieved.
"What on earth frightened you so dear?" Sara was at her side, stroking her cheek. "You looked like you saw a ghost!" Meg turned to Sara expressionless, not knowing quite what to say.
Madame Giry said, "come, sit at the table, I'll bring you a cup of tea." She moved in gently prying Meg from Raoul's arms, and Sara's inquisitions. Meg's legs feeling a bit wobbly still, leaned heavily on her mother's arm, shuffling over to the table. She grabbed the side and sat herself down into one of the sturdy chairs.
Sara and Raoul joined her, each pulling out a chair and shuffling it over next to Meg's. Meg looked pleadingly up at her mother, who nodded back at her. "The day….it's just been a bit overwhelming" Meg said looking back and forth between Raoul and Sara. Meg reached out and touched Raoul's hand, a shudder ran up her spine. "Thank you for…." Meg looked up at Raoul, trying to smile.
"I am glad I was here to assist you." Raoul said, the overwhelming pain she'd seen in his eyes, easing just slightly. "How have you been, have you been managing alright since…" Meg just didn't know what to say. No matter what she said, she felt as though she was betraying someone.
The pain returning to Raoul's face. "We've been searching, but so far we've found nothing…" his eyes now seemed distant. "I know how close you were to Christine and I…." Tears welled up in his eyes again. Sara reached out putting a comforting hand on his shoulder. Raoul tried to muster all the poise a gentleman should have, he continued "we've been searching, and we will continue to search until such time we've interviewed everyone who might have been in the City that night, until every inch has been reviewed" he said resolutely.
Madame Giry looked a bit uneasily at the stairs, Sara catching her glance. "Your aunt's asleep upstairs, I've been to check on her already. Your uncle's out, not sure where on earth he went alone at this hour" Sara said.
"Yes," Raoul said, perking up just a bit, trying to straighten his coat, formalizing his demeanor. "I understand that you're going to spend sometime with them in the country." Raoul said looking at Madame Giry. Her eyes darted to Sara. "I visited with my father this afternoon, and he told me of the arrangements." Raoul looked back and forth between Meg and Madame Giry. "I trust the two of you will allow me to contact you, to perhaps visit if there is news?"
"Why yes of course, we'll leave directions at the Opera House so you are able to find us should the need arise."
Raoul smiled politely. "Meg, is your head feeling better?" Raoul turning his attentions to Meg inquired. "Why yes, thank you" Meg said shyly.
Sara rose as she heard the teapot beginning to boil. She walked over retrieving several cups. "Sir, will you be joining us for tea, or perhaps for dinner?"
Madame Giry felt her stomach rise into her throat. Her thoughts rushing in from every side. "What if Christine or Erik came down and saw Raoul sitting at the table, what would Erik do? No, there had to be some way for her to warn them, to interrupt the plan, to…." Her thoughts were jarred to reality as she heard Raoul politely declining the invitation as he was to have supper with his father and the search party at the Starboard.
"In fact, I should be expected over there soon, as I am certain that all the parties have returned by now" Raoul said, now standing, tightening his cravat, smoothing his hands over his hair, and straightening his coat. "Sara, thank you for your kindness, and your fine company, I shan't forget it." Sara smiled. "Madame Giry, Meg, please say we'll visit once more before you leave. We've so much to share…it has been a great loss for us all. We must stay in communication."
Madame Giry rose from her chair, embracing Raoul as a mother would a son. "All things will work out," she said patting his back "all things will work out as they should." He smiled at her, taking her hand into his, lifting it and kissing her knuckles. She smiled at him and nodded.
He walked over to where Meg was sitting. She began to rise. "No, no, save your strength," he said bending over and kissing her on the cheek. "You care for yourself, someday soon the sun will shine again." He reached out and put his hand under Meg's chin, looking her deeply in the eye. She smiled, and lowered her eyes before saying "you care for yourself too Raoul." The pair parted eyes and Raoul took up his cloak and walked to the door. "Good evening ladies" he said, as he opened the door and left.
XXXXX
Upstairs, Erik let out a small silent sigh. "He's gone now" he whispered into Christine's ear. She did not move. He realized that she had fallen asleep. He carefully shifted his weight, laying Christine's head down on the pillow. He gently pulled a blanket over her sleeping form. Rising from the bed he moved to the table and lit a candle. The room was starting to become chilly, a draft wafting in from the partly ajar window. Erik moved to close it and then set about making a fire.
He would go down for dinner, letting Christine get some rest. "It is best," he thought to himself. Christine and Erik together were electric. It would be much easier to play his part without her at his side. He needed to satisfy the innkeeper's curiosity, and he needed to let Meg and Madame Giry know of the plans that were made thus far. Yes, he'd go down for dinner now.
XXXXX
Meg rested her elbows on the table, head in hands, in very un-lady-like fashion. Sara had retreated to the kitchen to check on dinner's progress. The ham had been slowly roasting since the morning filling the inn with a sweet smoky aroma. Sara slipped a pan of rolls that had been rising into the oven. "Twenty minutes or so until dinner." She called out to Madame Giry and Meg. "Thank you." Madame Giry called back.
She slid her chair over very closely to Meg's. "My dear, are you alright?" Madame Giry said putting her hand on Meg's shoulder. "Oh mother, what on earth was he doing here? I was so startled it frightened me. The next that I knew he was dabbing my forehead." Meg looked as though she'd faint again.
"My dear, it frightened me too. I suppose he just needed to make sure we were alright. I spoke to his father, it makes sense that he would do the polite thing and check on us before we would leave the City. In some ways it makes this much more believable, and much easier for us all." Meg nodded.
"Mother do you think we should check on…I mean see if they're alright?" Madame Giry smiled at her daughter, putting her index finger just below Meg's chin, running it along her jaw. "I'll take care of that. You sit and rest. When you're feeling up to it, perhaps you can help Sara set the table."
Madame Giry rose and walked toward the stairs. Halfway up she paused. Meg turned around wondering why her mother would stop now. "We'll uncle, what a pleasant surprise." Madame Giry walked the few stairs up to meet him, helping him down the stairs. Meg's eyes wandered up behind him, hoping to see her friend descending, but alas he was alone.
Madame Giry assisted Stephan to the table. He began to cough ferociously. Sara came rushing out of the kitchen, a concerned look on her face, thinking it was Meg. "Oh, good sir…." She paused looking curiously at the door. "I didn't hear you come in, my apologies." Sara looking back and forth between the man at the table and the door.
"Will you and your wife be joining us for dinner?" Sara said hoping to at last have everyone together. He cleared his throat, and with much strain in his voice said "I regret Elizabeth would like to rest, perhaps she will eat later. I am afraid taking care of her old husband wears on her strength." Sara nodded, a bit disappointed, but happy to have an opportunity to talk to at least one of them.
Meg, Madame Giry, and Stephan sat making idle conversation. Mostly fabricating stories about life in the country, the gentleman's farm he owned, and assorted pleasant memories. Sara busied herself in the kitchen trying to be as quiet as she could so as to not miss too much of the conversation. Oh how she loved having people at her inn.
XXX
Christine woke, feeling the warmth of the fire, and seeing the candle flickering. She glanced toward the window, breathing a sigh of relief, it was tightly latched. She could hear laughter downstairs, a blend of the women she knew, and of that of an older man, no doubt Erik in character.
She stretched her arms above her head, touching the headboard, and slowly brought them down to her head. Her stomach was starting to growl, and the lure of the aromas from the kitchen were tantalizing. She'd have to powder her hair again, pull strains of makeup across her cheeks, and practice her droopiest face. She pulled herself from the bed, lighting softly on the old floorboards so as not to disturb them in case she changed her mind.
The room was warm now, the heavy blankets abandoned on the bed. Christine pulled out the powder and began mixing it with a bit of hair balm, working it into her palms and into the curls of her hair. She was nearly finished when she heard the scraping of chairs under the table in the room below. She could make out muffled voices, exchanging good-evening pleasantries. She sat down now on the chair by the fireplace, realizing as she heard footsteps on the stairs, that she had missed supper entirely.
Soon there was a pair of footsteps outside the door. She could hear the clinking of a tea cup in a saucer, thinking Erik would have been kind enough to bring her a cup of tea. The door opened, and in came Erik, Meg, and Madame Giry. They'd brought her up a small feast! Her eyes delighted at the sight of her family, but turned quizzically toward the tray that they brought and sat next to her. Erik raised his finger to his lips, signaling that they should all be careful what they spoke of now. They all nodded in acknowledgement, understanding his gesture.
"Elizabeth my dear, if I'd known you stirred, I'd have retrieved you for dinner" Erik began. "Thank you Stephan. Not that I do not prefer company, but the rest was good for me, I was more tired than I thought." Christine smiled at the three.
They came to rest in chairs, and Meg took a spot on the floor by Christine's feet. "Do eat my dear, it is still warm." Madame Giry said, pointing toward the dome covered plate on the tray before her. Erik reached over and lifted the cover. On the plate was ham, mashed potatoes, a roll, butter, and vegetables. A small fruit tart lay off to the side. Christine was most definitely hungry. She bowed her head for a moment before lifting knife and fork, slicing off the first bite.
They began a small conversation talking about the weather, and the travel plans that had been arranged for tomorrow afternoon. Each interjected thoughts that might be relative if they were actually going to a house in the country that they'd been hundreds of times before. Christine could not finish the ample dinner, but heavily eyed the tart. Erik smiled at her. "Being a grown woman my dear, if you'd like to have the tart instead, I'm sure no one would object." Christine smiled at Erik, blushing slightly. As her tutor he had been very strict, one thing followed the other, one never skipped a step. But now as her husband, he was more keenly aware of pleasing her, and that had a sweetness all its own.
She smiled, pushing away the plate slightly, and pulling the small saucer with the tart closer to her. Madame Giry glanced away, sensing intimacy between them that she'd never seen before. Meg simply smiled, knowing that Christine was with the man she loved, and Meg could see it in their exchange of glances.
Just then, there was a gentle rap on the door. Meg rose, going to the door, each looking at one another, before Erik nodded. Meg opened the door. "Sara," Meg said, not opening the door fully. "She's not yet finished, we could have brought the…" she trailed off as she noticed the silver tray with five stemmed glasses, and small china plates, each containing a large dark-chocolate truffle.
"I've brought a bed-time treat." Sara said, standing expectantly looking at Meg. "Do come in" called Madame Giry. Sara smiled as Meg opened the door allowing her entrance. Each party maintaining their composure. Sara walked over to the group, nodding as each one took a glass of cognac and a chocolate. When the last was taken, Sara put the silver tray under her arm, holding the glass of cognac, raising a toast. "To a wonderful family. May God bless you on your travels. May you return soon. I shan't forget your acquaintances, and hope that you will visit often when you come back." Each one raised their glass, drinking from it lightly, and taking a bite of the bitter chocolate.
"Thank you Sara" Madame Giry said. They chatted briefly by the fire, Sara looking at each one, trying to emblazon in her mind their faces, so she wouldn't forget them. A few minutes later, Sara picked up the dishes that had been finished, leaving the tea for Elizabeth. Each said their goodnights and departed.
As the bedroom door closed, Christine turned to watch Erik nod to Madame Giry. The room was silent until the last footsteps could be heard on the stairs. Erik went over to Christine, smiling at her, taking the glass from her hand, and pulling her up into a warm embrace. "You did very well my dear Elizabeth" he breathed into her ear. She smiled, nestling her head in by his neck. "As did you my dear Stephan. I assume as we fall off to sleep tonight you will tell me of the plans for tomorrow?" "Yes, I shall. But we aren't going to sleep just yet."
Christine looked at Erik smiling. She expected him to embrace her, instead he took her by the hand. Quietly leading her out of the bedroom, just a short distance to a small door on the left. Opening it she felt a small cool breeze about her ankles. Erik reached down putting his cloak around her shoulders. He led her up the tiny winding stairs to the roof.
"Now close your eyes." Erik whispered to her. The air was a bit chilly, but she could sense warmth not far away. He led her over to the chimne that rose out of the roof. Gently leaning her back against the brick, and down to a sitting position. Several soft blankets covered a pair of crates like finely upholstered chairs. He sat on the one next to her. "Now, open your eyes." Christine's breath caught in her chest. From the roof, the lights of the city twinkled. The gas lamps of the bridges still lit for the evening travelers, the faint glow of a city going to sleep twinkling far below. It was the opposite side of the Opera House, a view unmarred by the disaster of the previous nights. The house was situated on a hill, giving full view of the city below. "This is beautiful Erik, simply beautiful."
She nuzzled in next to him, he leaning down to kiss her brow. "I thought you would enjoy it. After all, a honeymoon should end with fireworks." Erik smiled at her as she turned to him. "I've loved being with you, being together here with you. Some day I will tell our children how hopelessly romantic their father was." Erik smiled, pulling Christine into a passionate kiss. There the pair sat on the moonlit rooftop. Warmth surrounding them, love filling them to the depths of their souls. A short honeymoon filled with no less love, no less passion than one that would last a lifetime.
Waytoointoerik: I love your tag name! It would have been good for me too! Thank you for the compliment. I've thought about the title several times, wondering if it truly represented the story, but decided changing the name would be too confusing. I will continue to update as chapters are written. This one finished at nearly 1:30 a.m.! Stories in my mind do not respect time, they demand obedience, so here I am.