"Thank you Madeline." Meg said as the maid left the room, pausing briefly in the doorway. "Young miss, master sad so long time, but, speaks of you, he smiles again. Happy face, he smiles!"
Meg was flattered, as she attempted to smile and close the door behind her. She turned, fully facing the room. Each corner, each window, each thing in that room screamed of luxury. The night tables held crystal hurricane lamps. The dressing table had numerous bottles of perfumed oils. Brushes, mirrors, hair adornments of every kind. She walked slowly over to the dressing mirror, running her hand over the colorful crushed stone, and along the beveled edges. It was all so very extraordinary. She walked over the bed, whose covers had been turned down, noticing a large wooden stick protruding from the foot. She lifted the blankets ever so carefully to expose a highly embellished copper bed warmer, that the maid had slid in to make the sheets more inviting. No doubt the maid would return in a few minutes to retrieve it.
Meg wandered over to the window, looking out she could see a small rose garden, and several lovely angelic sculptures in it, one bore a harp, the other a violin. She turned drinking in the sheer opulence of the appointments. She noticed a door on the right, and wondered where it led. She slowly made her way there, running her hands along the edges of everything she touched, as if it weren't real.
The large brass latch on the door didn't even squeak as she lifted it, opening the door into another smallish room. It was not until the door was fully opened, that its contents were exposed. It was lined with shelves, and shelves of shoes, hats, boxes of gloves in every color. One entire wall was lined with a rack containing no less than twenty dresses of varying fabrics and fringes and lace. The wall at the rear of the room was entirely covered in mirrors, a rather large one at the center, providing a long shadow of Meg's frame. She fingered the dresses, looking at the shoes that matched, parasols and the like.
She moved out of the room, closing the door, and leaning against it. "This had all been prepared for Christine…." Meg felt ill. It was one thing to be given this sort of luxury, but to walk in the shadow of a woman that all assumed to be dead, gave her a sudden forceful shudder down her spine.
She wandered back to the dressing table, where she sat down next to the lamp. She'd not had an opportunity to look at her injuries in detail, and was a bit frightened to do so now.
She swallowed hard as she slowly raised her head to look at her face. She drew in a sharp breath as she gazed upon her swollen right cheek. A slit was in the place her eye normally occupied, and a gash, the length of her finger extended from her nose down to her jaw. Her face contained nearly every shade from the blue color palette, muddled together with red in places. She looked down as tears welled in her left eye. She glanced at the bandages on her arms, and the one on her leg. "He said they weren't deep, that they would heal." Meg said under her breath trying to comfort herself.
Though she was in her bedclothes, Meg wished she could find Raoul, ask if he would put her in another room…..one less occupied. She was grateful yes, but was unsettled at the thought of being there, as she was, in a room that was not hers.
Just then there was a knock on the door. "Young miss? Doctor comes, you ready receive him?" Meg stood and walked toward the door. "Yes, thank you." Meg wandered back to the chair as the doctor entered the room. Raoul stood in the doorway, not wanting to intrude on her privacy. As soon as he saw the doctor sit next to Meg, he turned and walked down the hall to his own quarters.
"Meg, I am Baron LeFavre. I will be your attending physician while you recuperate here with the De Chagny family. Raoul has briefly informed me of the events of the past day, but I wish to hear from you. I will examine your wounds, and give you something to relax."
He looked at the trepidation in Meg's face. Reaching into his bag he retrieved a small flask of water, and a brown bottle of pills. "Perhaps we could start with this." Meg took the pills and water compliantly.
The doctor rose, washing his hands in the basin that Madeline had brought in for him, and returned to Meg's side. "Let's look first at the stitches." He drew in closely, pushing his glasses up on his nose, coming in for a careful examination. "Hmmmm…..quite good, quite good indeed. I dare say for a country physician, I'd not have been able to do a better job myself!" He backed away from Meg. "This doctor, who did you say he was?" Meg simply shrugged her shoulders, she simply could not tell him.
"He did you a great service my dear, this will heal very well, very well indeed. If it is not disturbed, you'll hardly be able to tell you'd had a scratch there!" Meg released a relieved breath. She had been more worried about that than she had allowed herself to believe.
Slowly he examined each of her other wounds, nodding his head reassuringly that Meg had received excellent immediate treatment, and that she would heal well…very well.
"Now dear, do tell me how do you feel….not physically….but inside…how do you feel." Meg looked at him, and without warning began to cry. She raised her hands to her face, ashamed at her sudden outburst of emotion. The doctor reached out and put his hand on her shoulder.
"It is alright dear, such trauma…..trauma the likes of which you've seen….often produces these tears. In time this will lessen, until one day it becomes something of a distant memory of a bad dream."
He reached down into his case, retrieving yet another brown bottle, this one slightly smaller than the last. He turned to her looking rather seriously. "Meg, if you wake, and you find your memories will not allow you to rest, take one of these. Be careful to take one and only one, and then only if you absolutely need to." He looked at the bottle, and back at Meg. "Do you understand?" She nodded. "They are very potent, and will cause you to go into a deep, dreamless sleep."
She stared at the bottle. Something both called to her to snatch it, and yet another part of her feared something so powerful. He tucked the bottle in the drawer next to her bed. "We shan't need to discuss this with anyone…it will be our little secret," he said smiling at her. "Raoul is quite concerned for your well being, and wanted me to see to your comfort, and so I shall."
Each day, I will come to visit you before you retire. I'll change your dressings, and in time, remove your stitches. Do not worry, you have at your disposal all the finest that money can buy." He patted her hand. "Meg, when I visit, we can discuss the things that happened, talk for awhile if you like."
He stood, collecting his things. "Shall I help you retire? Raoul would like to visit if you'd not object?" Meg nodded, "please send Madeline in first…and thank you." Meg could not smile, but the look in her one open eye indicated her gratitude. "I shall." He walked out of the room.
Meg was beginning to feel very relaxed, no doubt an affect of the pills the doctor gave her when he first arrived. She leaned back in the chair, feeling rather sleepy. Madeline made her way back into the room, coming to Meg's side.
"Young miss, you water closet before bed?" Meg nodded, and Madeline led her off to a small door at the back of the room. It led to yet another room, appointed no less richly than the other fine things in the room. He had seen to every detail, nothing had been spared.
XXXXX
The dining room table had been uncovered, and the meal had been eaten. It was an odd mixture really of the things that the coachmen could find in town, considering the few shops that had been open when they arrived. Several sweet cakes, and stale loaves from the bakery. A wheel of cheese and a smoked ham from the butcher's shop. Several bottles of wine from a tavern. It was sheer luck that they had run into the shopkeeper of the general market at the tavern, for he had opened the shop for them to obtain a few additional provisions. A sack of peanuts, some ground coffee, and several dozen eggs. They'd also talked him out of several quarts of milk. The physician had insisted that they find some for Christine.
The horses were happily munching on oats in the stable, several bales of hay brought in for their comfort. There were cots in the barn, but the coachmen welcomed Erik's invitation to stay inside the house where it was warmer. The group sat quietly around the table. With no servants to retrieve their dishes, they'd stayed in front of them until Madame Giry nodded at Christine and they stood collecting the plates. Erik wanted to protest, but given the situation, they were all doing what they could. No one was truly in character that evening, instead, they were a group of people shoved together by circumstances, making the best of it.
Nadir had gathered wood from the small stores in the shed behind the house, remnants of the winter no doubt. Madame Giry and Christine had wandered through the house, uncovering beds, and filling basins with water in each room, lighting small fires to warm them.
Everyone seemed to gravitate to the parlor as the twilight faded into blackness. They sat nearly silently staring into the fire. This group had never shared company before, and it was all very odd to them.
"Perhaps a game would be in order," Nadir offered. Erik scowled. "I hardly think this is the time for us to be…" he stopped. "It is with great sadness that we find ourselves in this house tonight. This house should be like it is every other night, seven months out of the year…quite…empty." Nadir paused, "but, alas it is not. Now we are faced with several hours before any of us will be tired enough to sleep. We could pass the time each sulking in our own corners, or, we could seize the moment, making the best of it."
Erik smirked Nadir was always the optimist. Even the time that Erik had seen him run clean through with a blade, Nadir was commenting on how fortunate that he was that it had been so sharp, making a clean slice through. That was Nadir. Christine had rather tired of crying, and welcomed a distraction from her sorrows. Madame Giry could think of little else but Meg. It was better to be occupied than to sit and fret. The coachmen were accustomed to entertaining themselves, and half thought the idea of retiring with a good book in a fine room really didn't sound all that tedious.
Erick was the one to select the game. Having been a dutiful student of the literary arts, he'd rather taken a fancy to the game of cribbage, and it was this game that he insisted upon playing. In the large oak bureau in the parlor were stowed several cribbage boards, and all of the accompanying necessities.
Nadir busied himself digging in the back of bookshelves, though none, save Erick, knew what he was looking or. Erik took swift course to Nadir's side and pushed aside a bound collection of Dickens revealing several decanters. Nadir smiled, retrieving them, sitting them on one end of the table. Christine and Madame Giry had lit several more candles, and the group assembled.
The play had begun and as the night fell, and the liquor flowed, though Erik abstained at the admonition of the physician, story telling became frequent.
"Now come Erik, do tell us why you've such a fascination with this game." Nadir said through slightly bleary eyes. Erik's face spread with a wide smile. He hadn't talked of Dickens in so many years, and looked on this occasion with keen vivacity.
"Very well, if you implore me," Erik looked at Christine and winked. "Have your read Dickens' story 'The Old Curiosity Shop'?" Erick paused, looking around.
None raised their hand except Nadir. The coachmen cajoled him. "Now, let me defend myself. I only read the book because Erik held a sword to my side every night in our quarters until I'd finished every last chapter! He insisted I needed to broaden my mind, to appreciate the written word!" That made the group laugh with delight.
Erik strode over to the bound volumes sitting carefully in their place on the shelves of the parlor. Selecting the second he opened the book to the story, and handed it to the coachman, "appropriate bed-time reading for you sir!" They laughed again. "Yes, I dare say many of my fancies have been derived directly from what I've read. One must learn to appreciate the simplicities of life, to ever embrace its joy."
Nadir laughed. "Dickens story of the Curiosity Shop mentioned the game of cribbage, and Erik insisted we learn how to play. He's such a competitive bloke!"
Erik walked by running his fingers with a feathery lightness along Christine's exposed shoulders. She blushed.
"And for me good sir?" The second coachman said to Erik. "Hmmm…..let me see…ahh, this one!" Erik selected another volume for him, smiling savagely as he brought it to him. "Oliver Twist?" he said looking up at Erik.
"And for you doctor, a special selection….yes…here it is… 'David Copperfield'." As he handed it to the doctor, who pressed it between his hands. "You should know that Dickens was once quoted as having said that he felt very much like a parent, and this book, was his favorite child!" The doctor had always wanted to read it, but had never found a bound volume to peruse. He smiled at Erik, and it seemed as though Erik was in some small way, saying thank you.
"Now, let me see, for my dear Madame Giry…something most intriguing…..ah yes, this shall do quite nicely… 'The Pickwick Papers'." He smiled handing it to her. "And last for my dear Christine…" he smiled sheepishly "ah yes…." He selected a volume and gave it to her. Christine blushed.
"And what of yours mam?" One coachman inquired. Christine held up her volume, blushing profusely now. "Great Expectations." The group laughed with gaiety. Some at Christine's expression, some because they knew of Christine's condition, and Erik, because he knew the real intent behind the book, and that night he had no intentions whatsoever of letting Christine have time to read it. "And of course, lastly for myself…yes…this shall do… 'Dombey and Sons."
"And for me kind sir?" Nadir called to Erik in a most mocking fashion. "Not having my sword at my disposal, I'd rather thought you'd decline!" The group roared in laughter. "However, if you insist…" Erik smiled, raising his eyebrow slightly. "Yes, this one suits you." He handed it to Nadir. "The Tale of Two Cities! It is the largest of all the volumes!" Nadir said looking curiously at Erik. "Yes, I thought you'd need the most work!" Everyone laughed yet again at Erik's humor.
Erik had been a rather intriguing host. Only Nadir, Christine, and Madame Giry truly knew how ill-accustomed Erik was to entertaining like this. Christine had noted that not once during the evening had Erik tried to hide his face, nor avoid anyone's gaze. He had behaved as any gentleman might while entertaining guests. Inside it moved her, to think this had been the first quasi-normal evening he'd spent, perhaps in the entirety of his life.
The fire dwindled, glasses were empty, and all the games returned to their hiding places. All felt sufficiently ready to retire. They parted ways saying their good-nights. The two coachmen had selected the servant's quarters at the rear of the house on the main floor. Madame Giry had selected the room that Meg had stayed in….somehow it made her more comfortable…made her feel closer to the daughter she longed to hold. The physician had chosen a smaller, well appointed room in the back of the house, near the sun-room. He rather enjoyed the privacy it offered, and it allowed this family to stay in rooms close to one another.
Erik and Christine retired to the master suite. It contained a dominating four-poster bed, encased in black silk, and gleaming white organza, and a large deep, marble fireplace. Erik pulled Christine into the room, gently pushing the door closed, barely hearing the latch before he embraced her, pressing her back against the door. She put one arm around Erik's middle held him close. He looked down at her with curious eyes, and then reached down and slipped the book from her hand.
"You shan't have time to read this tonight…you may take it home with us when we return to the manor." He reached over putting the book on the table. Neither had a change of clothing, nor bedclothes, and sleeping in their soiled garments would not do at all. There was but one alternative. Christine and Erik took turns assisting one another.
"I really must insist you stop wearing these things," Erik said as he unlaced Christine's corset. Christine simply replied "hmmm." Erik reached down sliding a silken sheet around her shoulders, and another around his. They sat on the edge of the bed, staring down into the fire.
"There are so many things that I'd like to say to you Christine. So many things that I've yet to share with you." Christine turned to Erik and looked him in the eye.
"We have a lifetime to share my dear. I'd like nothing more than to relish this pleasant memory. In the worst of circumstances, you reached into this small collection of broken souls, and provided hours of relief. Your ingenious contrivances allowed us all an escape, if but for a fleeting moment. We could have passed this time by wallowing in the losses, but you've produced a diversion that was so desperately needed by all."
She smiled at him, reaching out cupping his hand in her pair. "Yes, we have much to talk about. We've not mentioned the many things that could have occupied our conversations, making us all the wearier for it. Tonight we could do nothing more but wait. You saved us all from going quite mad. Tomorrow will be a new day, and we will all have much to do."
Erik leaned down placing a tender kiss on Christine's temple. There was a knock at the door. "Erik?" came the physician's voice. Erik rose and walked to the door, opening it just slightly. "I'd like to examine your bandages just once, to be certain that nothing is draining or needs to be cleaned.
Erik led him out into the hallway and down to the sunroom. He lifted a match to the kerosene lamp and it ignited illuminating the entire room with light nearly as bright as the sun. "That is perfect," the doctor said as he sat his bag down, opening it widely to reveal his instruments. He glanced out of the corner of his eye at the sheet that Erik had draped around him. Deciding discretion was the higher road, he chose to act as if he hadn't noticed. He looked carefully at the bandages. He applied a bit of salve to the scrapes on Erik's forehead, and cleaned off a few abrasions on Erik's shoulders.
"All things considered Erik, you've recovered amazingly well. You should barely be walking! Yet tonight you endured hours of cribbage, tolerated with great strength I might add, the mixture of brandy and morphine, and now it seems that your wound has finally stopped draining. I've never observed this rapid healing before, you are indeed a fortunate man!"
Erik looked most seriously at him. "Tell me….. is there more to do with this?" Erik said pointing up at his cheek.
The doctor was quite uncertain how his patient would react now, the night had been so pleasant up to this point. "Sir, that is up to you. I'd prefer to continue treating it until such time it no longer threatens to overtake the skin, but I'll do nothing more without your permission."
Erik thought for a moment. "Perhaps you and I can converse about this back at the manor. It seems it would be foolish to stop now, when you've come so far." Erik said, slipping the sheet back over his shoulders. "Good night sir," he said to the doctor as he headed back to his room.
The doctor smiled to himself as he put everything back into his satchel. That might be the closest he would every come to receiving an expression of gratitude from Erik. But, he was more relieved that Erik wanted to continue. That very admission gave him hope that Erik approved, and was embracing the idea on his own terms now.
Author's Notes:
Captain Oblivious: Now you must simply tell me about this video…I've never heard of it…is it real? Now, you've got ME wondering…hmmm…I guess turnabout is fair play!
Phantom Vampire? Sounds like you should be making a movie deal with Wes Craven…with any luck he can get Schumacher to direct it! Oh, and about the trances, you best know what you're doing or it could have unintended consequences…say…if you'd happen to be thinking about this story….his affections might traverse your thoughts and the object of his undying affections could be the author! Yikes…now I don't know whether to fear your sword or your fangs….darn thing is getting rather complicated!
Yes, I felt badly about Sara meeting her demise….the love of a true friend…the greatest act of altruism…one should be so lucky to have someone like that in their life! I hope you enjoy the chapters…I tried to leave things on a little kinder note for the weekend!
DivePrincess: Welcome back! Hope you had a great time, and hope you had a chance to have that Mai Tai! Yes, we've been busy while you've been gone. Hopefully it won't take too long to catch up! Hope you enjoy the next chapters!
Xciel: Thank you for the review. The reason that Madame Giry didn't' want Christine to go into the house was because she thought Erik was dead. Since she hadn't known about the extent of the murders that had happened there, she was frightened by the site of the blood everywhere, and bodies strewn about. It's like that moment when you see a crime scene and it scares you so much that you imagine the worst even if you never actually saw it. That's sort of what I was aiming for. I hope you enjoy the next chapters. They are a bit of welcome relief for the families in light of all of this absurd tragedy.
Phantomluvr: My chapters are growing rather long, sometimes I cut them off at what might be viewed as inopportune points. However, in the case you refer to, I was going for effect. Sorry if it drove you a bit crazy! I think you'll rather like how chaps 83 and 84 end. It's a nice place to leave the families for the weekend!
Phantomfan13: Another night owl? Alas, us bats have to stick together! It is too bad that work has to get in the way of all this fun!
Now, as for Erik's taste for liquor, I don't know that he drank the whole bottle, but it was empty when Nadir found it. Likely he was drowning his grief, which was so common in those days. My guess is he couldn't stand being in the room with a dead Sara, and not knowing when help would come, he turned to the only thing he could get his hands on. Hope you enjoy the next chapters!
PS. Thank you for your encouragement. Obviously you read the less-than-flattering review. I realize this story is not for everyone, nor should it be. If one has their heart set on Christine and Raoul being together, this story is not for them. Thankfully, there are thousands of other revisions out there to choose from. Perhaps she can find one that suits her tastes! Again, thank you for the encouragement!
Stellalorelia: Yes, I am a ravenous reader myself, so I'm sharing your pain! When I find something I like, I consume it by the volume, barely stopping to eat or drink! I've been known to hole up with a good book and read from my first cup of coffee in the morning until the moon is high in the sky! Oh, I've gotten off the subject haven't I.
Chapter 84 is the one I was referring to in my last response to you. I'd already penned it when I read your review which is why your reference to Dickens was so eerie… I'm glad you keep coming back to the story. Last night as I drifted off to sleep on my laptop, I thought that if this crazy story made but one person smile out there in cyberspace, then all the hours would have been worth it! Hope you enjoy this installment!
Pertie: I hope you've not given up yet. You can probably tell from the number of chapters that this has grown to, that I'm an extreme Erik fan myself! It's funny you should pose the question of asking about Erik being the strong Phantom again…I think just now he's regaining his strength! The love of a good woman, and the care of an excellent physician have helped him greatly! Hope you find chaps 83 & 84 a little relieving!
Glitterqueenoftheiceshow: I am saddened to hear that you are disappointed with this revision. Though I realize I cannot make everyone happy, I do tend to try. No doubt you've seen that I've been rather compassionate to Raoul, for he was a man of honor, and equally deserved to be loved. His past was not easy, and he grew into a much deeper character than he'd been in either the movie or the novel. I think if anything, people may like him better now, not less, which is what I think you were hoping for too. Alas, in my mind, the way the world should have been is that Erik ended up with Christine, happy and very much in love. They were, as Plato was once quoted as saying, "split-aparts" two souls so perfectly matched that even the forces of the universe couldn't keep them apart. Yes they were passionate, but one would hope that those who had waited so long to be loved, were newlyweds, would be passionate, for that is the zest of life! The focus in this story was not of lust, but of true love….there is such a difference in the two!
I truly hope you go on to find another story where the dream can turn out as you'd hoped it would. Perhaps in the world as it should have been to you, Erik would be alone, and only Christine and Raoul would have been happy. It was precisely that tragic ending that prompted me to write this story. I do mean this sincerely, it may be time for you to re-write the ending to detail the longings of your own heart. I wish you much luck and happiness, and I hope you find exactly what you're looking for….just as I have.