Erik tip-toed into the room, carefully drawing the door closed behind him. There were but a few small candles lit. He moved quietly, not wanting to disturb Christine if she were already asleep. He peered behind the silk curtains that encircled the bed, but she was not there. He smiled as he glanced over and saw the sliver of light coming from beneath the door to the water closet.
It was quiet as he approached the door. Surely she'd fallen asleep in the comfort of the soothing heavily scented and salted water. He opened the door, slipping into the small room. His suspicions proved correct as he found her sound asleep, up to her elbows in frothy bubbles. Her hair daintily pulled up behind her in a silk scarf. She looked like a sleeping angel to him. Oh how he hated to disturb her, but knew that he must. He slipped his hand into the water. It was still very warm. His mind immediately drifting back to the night they spent at the Candlelight Inn. There they'd been on their honeymoon, in fact, it could very well have been there that their child had been conceived.
He reached down gently nudging Christine's shoulder. She didn't move, but sighed sweetly. Still she slept. Erik stood above her admiring how comfortable she was. The water was inviting, and he'd had half a mind to join her. Alas the basin wasn't nearly as large, and he feared he'd spill the contents of it if he attempted to. Instead, he pulled out several large bath sheets, removed his jacket, rolled up his sleeves and reached in lifting Christine into the towels. At first she struggled, confused by the movement, and then she realized it was Erik. "My dear sweet Erik," she mumbled as he carried her over to the bed.
He removed her scarf, letting her tendrils fall around her shoulders as he laid her back to rest. He carefully dried each hand, arm, ankle, foot, knee, running his hand over her stomach. Christine woke, smiling sleepily at him, "Erik, I can…." Erik put his finger up to her lips. "Shhh…after all, it is my turn!" pulling the covers up over her. He leaned down kissing her temple as she drifted off to sleep once again. Yes, he'd thought about a proper nightdress, but knew it would only wake her further should he insist.
He gazed admiringly down at her sleeping face. He ran his finger along the curves of her cheek. It was growing slightly fuller, and he thought it suited her. Changing into his bedclothes, he slipped beneath the covers. Nestling in closely to Christine, he pulled her into his arms. He found his hand protectively resting over her mid-section. He couldn't help but marvel at the feeling of the small lump of flesh in her abdomen. He rubbed his hand over and over it again.
He listened as Christine began to mumble something. Though he couldn't make it out, he could see that she was smiling. She slid her hand down to join his. A tear escaped Erik's eye that night as he lay holding her…he was eternally grateful to have this woman in his arms, and he was entirely certain, he'd come to love her a little more each day.
XXXX
"No, you must retire grandmother, you need your rest!" The young woman closed the door behind her as she left the room, latching it soundly.
"I feel guilty locking her in as though she were a wild animal mother. Isn't there something that can be done?" Her mother shook her head sadly. "I've never seen her quite this disturbed. She is so very convinced that she knows the poor man. She's never been this adamant before, I fear her condition has worsened. The doctor assures me there's nothing to be done, except protect her from harming herself or someone else."
The daughter sat crying at the table. How she wished she'd been there those years for her mother when she lived alone. Had she and her husband not lived so far away then, maybe she would be well today, maybe she'd still have her mind. Now, there was nothing there except this shell of a woman, tinkering in a past that never existed. She'd barely exhisted, and now she sat locked up in a room for her own protection. The granddaughter sat next to her mother on the bench. "Do not worry mother, all will be well, all will be well."
XXXXX
Nadir waited. Trying to stay awake while being perfectly still was difficult after such a long day. The bed was particularly inviting. He struggled with the temptation of lying down to rest on it. Oh how many nights he and Erik had spent quietly waiting. Waiting until the rest of the world was asleep. They had perfected their disappearing act, but tonight Nadir did not need to disappear, he needed to retrieve that picture, lest it be found. There would be no mistaking the picture. It would raise far too many questions that remained yet unanswered.
Nadir retrieved his pocket watch, opening the face. It was nearly midnight. He quietly made his way to the window, peering out he could still see the shadow cast by the light from the window in the room below his. Someone was still awake. He returned to his chair, reclining slightly. He would wait, it was far too important The temptation to sleep would not rob him of his opportunity to do what he knew must be done.
He sat patiently analyzing over and over in his mind what the two men had told him. DeChagny spoke of a village hours from Paris, a small rather formal town. A man of position would surely want to put his son in a village with class and culture for his summer away. Erik felt drawn to the town, it reminded him of something. Erik had been with the gypsies since he was four or five… Based on what he surmised De Chagny's age might be, that would make the situations nearly a perfect match. This woman who stalked Erik in the streets, she was an old woman…far too old to be his…mother…Claire would not be that aged.
It puzzled Nadir. Why would Claire's father have left the child in that city? Why wouldn't he have sent him off to an orphanage in a distant city? Perhaps he knew the family would never return, or perhaps he thought the child would die, and this left the fewest number of questions. It was difficult to imagine his motives. Perhaps it was not as it seemed and it was merely a set of events that paralleled but were completely unrelated.
Nadir shook his head. Perhaps it was nothing at all. But how odd that all of these things should unknowingly fall into place. Chauesser was five and a half hours from Paris. Far enough to not be influenced by DeChagny name, but not too far that he could not have been quickly retrieved should the need have arisen. But the old woman….how did she fit into this picture? It made no sense. Erik had spoken of being raised by his mother, a mean surly woman. Nadir settled in his mind that he would simply have to find the woman Erik spoke of. To talk to her before he could make any assessments. Finding her would be the trick, he knew very little about her, save what little description Erik had given him. Nadir closed his eyes briefly. The thought of all the events described floating through his mind.
He heard a large thud in the room below his. Nadir carefully made his way to the window. Looking out, he could see that the light had been turned down. In but a few minutes he would be free to make his way to the sunroom.
When he was confident that all had gone to bed, he carefully removed his shoes. Stocking feet allowed for much more agility, and a much softer stride. It took minutes for him to open and close his door without sound. Patience was a key ingredient when one needed to travel undetected.
Slowly, painstakingly he made his way, step, by careful step, down the hall. He needed to pass the master bedroom. Doing so took a particularly long time as Erik was behind that door, and Nadir knew of his keen senses. Finally, after nearly twenty minutes time, he found himself in the sunroom.
Nadir carefully pulled a chair over to the wall, reaching up to the shelf where he'd placed the picture. He stretched, carefully padding around with his hand. At first a panic began to set in as his hand discovered nothing. Then he felt it. He let out a relieved sigh. Carefully he took the picture down, glancing at it in the small bit of moonlight that filtered into the room. "Erik…" he muttered under his breath. He slipped the photo into his breast pocket.
Warily he dismounted the chair, putting it back in place so as to make the room appear undisturbed. Nadir stood staring out at the night sky. This room was lovely even in the moonlight. No doubt Erik had designed it to be enjoyed at all hours of the day, for truly that was among Erik's many gifts. There was a small pond just beyond the tree line; it glimmered in the surreptitious light of the moon. Nadir sighed. His physical exhaustion bid him retire, the comfort of the bed beckoned him. There was much to be done, and as beautiful as the night was, he needed his rest. He turned to go from the room.
"Good evening my friend," came Erik's wraithlike voice from the shadows. "What brings you to this room in the dark of night?" Nadir gasped. Though he desperately tried to cover his obvious horror of being laid bare, he knew Erik would intuitively question him. "Erik! You gave me a fright, do you not recall that I am an old man that could have…"
Erik's eyes were fixed in serious position directly on Nadir. "How long have you been standing there Erik?" his voice quivering in obvious trepidation. "Long enough friend….long enough."
XXXX
Meg leaned against the closed door. She let out a gasp. The night had been long….so much had happened, so much reason to shed tears of happiness at the very thought of it. But it was not that which occupied her mind now.
She thought about the previous night's dream, and how she'd not taken her medicine this very night. She needed the bottles in her bedroom. She could retrieve them, taking them back with her to her mother's room. No one would be the wiser, and she'd be able to sleep.
Moving over to where her mother already lay sound asleep, she called out softly "Mother?" There was no response. Meg made her way over to the cot that Raoul had brought in for her. She quickly changed into the nightgown that was laid out. She looked at it with question, she didn't remember seeing that nightgown before, but then again, she'd not memorized all of the garments in the closet.
She patted the bandages that the doctor had changed for her. He'd already dressed the wounds, she'd no need to disturb them tonight. She walked to the door, putting her ear lightly against the grain of the wood for a long while. Hearing no sound, she settled on venturing down the hall to the room where she'd been staying….to the drawer that held her momentary salvation.
Stopping several times to look back over her shoulder, she made her way down the dark hallway to the room she had occupied only the night before. Once at the door, seeing that it was tightly latched, she knew that it would take some time to open it without sound. She warily turned the handle, pushing the door open. Swiftly disappearing inside, she closed the door behind her.
Without light her task would be more difficult, but she thought she had spent enough time in the room to move through it by memory alone. She had no idea where the wax spill lay, and no want to carelessly slip on it. She reached out her hands trying to find the divan that was not but a few feet from the door. She felt about but could find nothing. She took several more chary steps, hand outstretched in front of her, yet still nothing. She began thrashing her arms around in front of her as though she were blind, taking several additional steps.
Abruptly her arm hit upon something. Running her hand along the surface she quickly identified the object. It was the mirror Raoul had of his mother's. But how is it that she should find it there? Meg supposed they'd moved the remaining furniture to one side of the room to allow for proper cleaning. She continued on, reaching out. The bedpost, she knew for a fact was three paces from the window. She reached out and continued, three paces, then four, then five. Was her mind playing tricks on her? Meg was confounded. Even if everything had been moved to one side of the room or the other, surely she'd have run into something by now!
Traveling another dozen precarious steps, Meg soon found herself on the opposite side of the room. She was perplexed. Reaching out she pulled on the heavy drapery that hung over the window. The fabric in her hand toppled to the ground, revealing an entirely open window. "Where are the curtains?" Meg uttered under her breath. It was not until she turned to face the door on the opposite side of the room, that it occurred to her what had happened.
She smiled, a sad smile. The room, save the mirror that had belonged to Raoul's mother, was wholly empty. Even the curtains had been removed, and the windows covered by the heavy blanket that Meg had managed to pull free. Tears ran down Meg's cheeks….he'd done this for her.
She moved freely now back toward the door, the moonlight that poured into the room through the uncovered window lighting her way. For Raoul's sake, she'd pretend she'd seen none of it.
Meg made her way down the hall and back once more into her mother's room. She quietly turned down the lamp and retiring to the cot she pulled the covers over her shoulder. As she was drifting off to sleep, she raised several prayers. One for Raoul. One for her mother, for Nadir, even for Raoul's father. She winced as she thought of Christine and Erik. She'd no idea how long it would be before she would be able to see either of them again. She prayed that they would be safe and well.
Her mind wandered back to the empty room. She'd not complained. Suddenly she felt guilty for the thoughts she'd even had about the many fine furnishings that were now obviously removed. No doubt he'd have plans to refurnish the room, or perhaps move her to another.
Meg stopped, maybe he'd simply had the items moved out so that they could clean the floors. Surely that was it. Meg felt silly as she thought of that most obvious explanation. No one would rid themselves of such fine things.
She shook her head. As she rolled over on her side, rubbing her cheek, she thought once more about the pills. She'd no idea where the little night table might be in that large house…..the table could have gone anywhere…she raised another little prayer that she'd sleep through the night, and not need the additional aid, for she'd no idea where to even begin looking for it.
XXXX
The boy was peering into the carriage house behind the Inn. He'd seen the activity with the officers earlier in the day. Surely they were looking at the carriage for some reason, and had made it all too easy to retrieve it. Surely they'd have taken it if they'd suspected…but he wasn't entirely sure, and he could not be too careful.
Last night had proved to be a restless night under the tree, and it had been fruitless as well. He'd not had opportunity to confirm that it was indeed the woman, though he suspected it was her. The buzz about the Starboard had spoken of a woman at the DeChagny mansion, and Raoul's quick defense of her life.
He'd watched with careful eye, DeChagny had not come from the house once evening had arrived and he knew he'd never get out alive during the light of day. Though he had every need to avenge his father, his brother, his own sense of self preservation garnered the larger share of his present will.
He would try again. But tonight, he'd have to see about retrieving that carriage. It was the legacy of the Crawlings family, and if he could not soon avenge his father and brother's deaths, he'd need to find his way to another city, another place, until such time he could return and catch them unaware.
Author's Notes:
Lirel-eris: Yes, we were worried about you! Thank you for your kind words regarding the story. I think the reason I update so often, and so much, is because I have been on the other end of stories where you wait and wait, and wait, and then finally the next book arrives, you've nearly lost interest. So, if I'm going to lose a reader it will be because they no longer enjoy the story…not because I've left them hanging! (Hopefully I don't bore anyone to the point of abandonment!)
I am happy to hear you are liking Raoul's development. The more I watch the movie…the more compassion I feel in my heart for him. Yes, he was a pretentious fop, but had Erik not been in the picture, perhaps no one would have thought him a bad match for Christine…perhaps he would rather have been like Prince Charming….so, I do want him to have some resolution, some happiness in his life, though it may not be an easy road. Truly, what one suffers for, one appreciates most! Each night as I sit down to my computer, candles burning, POTO blaring, I try to get into the mood of the time period…and I feel very close to these characters…almost like a family that I visit in the dark of my library. It may seem a bit strange, but that is how I find myself best able to connect with what I would be feeling if I were in their shoes. Raoul struggled with his emotions over Christine…finally letting her go…and then realized he'd had feelings for Meg. I'm glad you liked that he offered the picture to Madame Giry as a gift to Stephan and Elizabeth….time will tell if that picture actually makes it there! I am equally glad you are enjoying the E/C moments in the story. It make me smile each time one reveals itself in the story….one can only imagine being that much in love! And last, yes, Raoul's poor father. He is a sad sort isn't he? Yes, he has a tough exterior, and you could be right, perhaps friendship…true friendship, will provide him an opportunity to be at peace.
Now, Madame Giry and Nadir…it is something that defies all the odds really, they are both loyal now to both camps…how they will resolve it, if they can, shall be very interesting.
Erik and Raoul…yes…it is interesting to think about…but I must stay tight-lipped on the subject just now! Sorry… To answer your question about POTO…yes, I've seen it on stage a number of times. Now I know that there is definitely a camp of people who would like to throw stones at me for what I am about to say, but here goes. I did like the different versions I saw on stage. They were intense, heart-felt, well done, and moving. But…I loved the movie version best of all. There is simply no way to do what was done in the movie on a small stage, or without the size of orchestra they had when they made the film. And some of the added scenes such as the swordfight that was not in the stage version, or the twists that they gave to each character, well, there is a reason it costs millions upon millions to make a movie. In this case….I believe it embodied the story in a way which will be appreciated by so many more than would ever have known it. Those of us who enjoy reading a good story, attending plays, and the like, are in the minority when you consider the population over all, so I am immensely pleased that they brought it to the big screen for everyone to partake of. Perhaps it will peak the interests of some to go out and buy a book and read it! The book itself is good though I dare say Gaston's version has been much improved upon over the years by those that followed him.
Now, about mythology. Having been a student of Latin, I delved quite easily into Greek Mythology. I loved everything about the culture, the characters, the mystique. The idea that creatures were imbued with powers that controlled weather, love, death, etc. was quite intriguing. Sadly, I've never read anything from Irish Mythology….yet anyway! Sorry for the long reply…I couldn't leave your questions unanswered!
Nidia: HOLA! Nosotros estamos felices tener usted en nuestro "Phantomfamilia!" Yo hablo un poco español . ¿Habla inglés? Lo siento, yo comprendo nada muchas escriba español . No sé todas palabras! Soy de los Estados Unidos! Venezuela es muy bonita! Me encanta Gerry Butler también! Yo escribo mas mañana para ti! Buenas noches!
Hybrid Knightress: Thank you for the compliment. I am happy that you are finding Meg and Raoul to be a suitable couple. It was hard to imagine them together at first, but is all part of a grand plan…and I hope everyone enjoys the ride! I rather enjoy a variety of music, movies, and literature myself. This world is so full of many wonderful things, it would be hard not to dabble a little in all of it! I can go from listening to opera, to Christian rock, to Jazz, to Frank Sinatra, the Backstreet Boys…so you see…I can understand your eclectic personality too! Though I must say I do have my favorites…and right now the Phantom has my heart!
Poetzproblem: Thank you for the encouragement. Yes, our Raoul seems to be getting over Christine nicely, and you are right, I wonder how solid his promise is once he learns of her deception, if ever he does….His mother's prediction was a little bit eerie I agree, it makes his acceptance of his new love much easier for him, because his mother had been the only person who had truly loved, and trusted. Hope you enjoy this chapter!