Christine and Erik strolled arm and arm down the street, Christine's head nestled up against his chest. They barely noticed the pleasant stares that older couples gave them as they passed by. There was something entirely wonderful about seeing a young couple in love. It made the whole world seem a little brighter place.
The pair stopped to peer into several windows, including the clock maker. "My father had a clock the very likeness of that one. I remember it when I was a girl. On Sunday mornings he would stand in front of it with his pocket watch, and reach inside the glass door adjusting the arms ever so slightly. It was a ritual of his that I always seemed to enjoy."
Erik leaned down kissing the top of Christine's head. They continued their stroll down to where they'd first come into town. In a distance they could see someone waiving their arms about wildly. Erik breathed in and let out a little chuckle. "Erphan…no doubt he's been looking for us!"
"Really Erik, Erphan? Who's ever heard of such a name? Could we simply not address him by something less ambiguous?" Erik laughed at her as they continued on their path toward the young man.
"And what would you have me call him my dear? Both his names were already quite occupied by the present company." Christine thought a moment, "Perhaps Erphan isn't entirely horrid." Erik laughed, squeezing Christine's arm.
Erphan was a mere block away when he began calling out to them, drawing everyone's attention. "Perhaps we'll have to teach our young prodigy about the finer skills of socially acceptable behavior!" Erik said, scowling just a bit at the scene Erphan was making.
"Sir, Madame, I've taken care of all you asked!" He ran up to them quite proud of himself, and quite out of breath.
"That is fine. And have you a change of clothes now?" Erik inquired. Erphan simply nodded his head. "Now then, I have but one further favor to ask of you." Erik leaned down whispering something in Erphan's ear. He discretely stuffed a small bundle of money into Erphan's hand, and the young man was off again. Erik called after him. "We shall meet with you at Christina Campbells when you are finished." He turned waiving to them as he ran off down the street.
Christine and Erik enjoyed the rest of their leisurely stroll back to the tavern. The park had been a brief diversion as Erik told Christine of what his visions of production would be if he were in charge. His descriptions so vivid that Christine could nearly see it played out in all of its grandeur, the heat of the torches he described that lit the stage for the play warming her cheek.
The town was slowly going to sleep as they arrived at the tavern. There Erphan stood dutifully holding the reins of the horses. Erik reached out, taking one of them, helping Christine up into the saddle. Erphan held out the reins to the other horse, but Erik declined.
He chose to mount the horse with Christine, wrapping his cloak around her as she leaned back into his broad chest. The ride would be much warmer in Erik's arms, and far more pleasant. She turned her head back slightly, placing a tender kiss on his neck. She felt safe, she felt happy, and she could imagine wanting to be no other place in all of the world than right there, in that moment, with him.
Erphan led the way down the cobble stone streets, back to the edges of the city. Once outside on the dirt roads again, the lights of the city behind them, the night grew quiet.
Erik was happy, content, but so much about all of the events of the night seemed unreal. He thought of the glances of the girls in the shop. He'd felt invisible. It had simply not occurred to him that they were looking at him! "They thought me to be handsome?" Erik said to himself.
To him it mattered very little what other women thought of him. He only had eyes for Christine. She had loved him in the dark, the light of day, and through the valley of the shadow of death itself. No earthy beauty could distract his love, or undying devotion for this woman.
So much of this new life he'd be able to live was unsettling. The haberdasher had treated him with respect, but not out of fear, but pure and simple respect. The moment contained neither fear nor power, and that was most unusual for him, for his entire life had hung precariously between those two words…up to this point.
He smiled to himself as he thought of Christine shopping with him, and how she'd blushed when the woman had whispered in her ear. Seeing her across the mercantile, looking at him with such love, gave him such pleasure.
He laughed a bit when he thought of the dinner they'd had that evening. Erik had intended it to be relaxing for Christine, a treat for Erphan, and simply painful for him. He'd imagined fidgeting throughout the meal, wanting to run, hide, find his mask. Yet in all of the distraction of his irritations, he'd not thought of his mask once this evening, until now.
His mind wandered to watching the light in Christine's eyes as she gazed upon the clock in the window. She looked at once like the precocious six year old, observing her father's ritual of setting the clock. How it pleased him that he could do these things for her.
His mind wandered back to the Opera House. Not often, but there had been times he'd felt a bit guilty for having demanded such a sum for his salary. In truth, save a few large expenditures, he'd not really required much. It was the fear of him that bid the owners to comply with his demands. Had the sum been too little, they'd have dismissed it. No, the sum had to be outrageous or it wouldn't have caused them any pain…in the end…it was better for both of them.
Now, out in the real world, he required much. He'd saved nearly all that he'd acquired, making him in any man's eyes, a very wealthy man. Though his tastes rather ran the gamut, he'd found himself leaning toward opulence over function in the last years. Perhaps it had been his growing affection for Christine. His imagining the finery she'd require to be happy.
He smiled to himself as he recalled her comments when they'd first united in the caverns below the Opera House. She'd told him that she'd be happy with him in the muddy depths of the moors, as long as they were together. Her willingness to live a life of poverty and obscurity to be with him, made him want to give her all the more. She was never unappreciative, and often overcome by his generosity.
Oh she was different from any other woman he'd ever known in so many ways. It was her precious heart that made him love her from the first. Gentle spirits such as hers were never raised, molded, nor trained, they simply must be born. She had been one in a million, and he'd been blessed enough to have found her.
He reveled in the warmth of her in his arms as they rode back to the winter house. He could tell that she'd fallen asleep. She was a bit more inclined to do that now, than she had been before. She was always bright eyed and eager to learn. Now, that she carried their child within her, she required more rest, more nurturing.
Erik raised a silent prayer of thanks. "Thank you for allowing me to be here with her Lord. Thank you for allowing me to wake so that I might care for her. Thank you for the blessing she now carries within her. Please care for her as only you can….keep her in your watchful eye, as I keep her in my arms." He bent slightly placing a kiss on the mound of curls that peered out over the top of his cloak. They were nearly home….home...that was indeed a wonderful word.
Author's Notes:
Just a brief explanation about chapter 93. Yes, it was likely to be the singular chapter in this entire book that was devoid of Erik. This was intentional. Out of respect for the turmoil that Raoul certainly had to deal with, and for a proper transition for the characters, Meg and Raoul required a chapter all of their own. The end of Raoul's undying devotion to Christine….and the awakening of his feelings for Meg.
Chapter 94 is should really be called Erik's reflections because it was time spent inside of his mind. He'd come to terms with so many things, he needed to reflect. When he lived below the Opera House he'd had all the time in the world to reflect, to write, to simply be. Now being part of the "land of the living" he had to deal with all the complexities and trivialities of interacting with others. He was now in a world where he would use neither fear nor threat to accomplish his goals. He now needs to learn an entirely new set of skills to acquire what he wishes. A new Erik is forming, though the old never disappeared entirely.
Phantomluvr: Congratulations, you deserve a gold star (I am being sincere!) Did you know the average person (post-education) will not have read more than two books, cover to cover, for the rest of their entire life? A truly appalling statistic! It (P & P) is a hard book, and it is a love hate thing….you hate loving it…or you love hating it! Good job! Next on your list…you guessed it… "Great Expectations", o.k., punjab expected now
Stellalorelai: I am happy for Meg and Raoul as well. My earlier notes explain my rationale for this, that chapter being solely the territory of Raoul, and his change of heart. Yes, the moment when, if ever it should come, that Raoul discovers Christine is not dead…that will be a sticky-wicket! Yes, so much of the story left to tell. PS. Sorry I've not responded to your e-mail, I've been burning the candle at three ends, and well, a candle only has two, so you understand the dilemma! Hope to get to it very soon!
PhantomFan13: Yes, Raoul….a broken heart does mend…but it never forgets! I favor also the chapters with Erik in them…I just thought that Raoul deserved a little TLC as he made his decision. Don't worry…plenty of Erik, the wonderful Erik, is yet to come…