Chapter 117 The Calm Before the Storm
Erik gently woke Christine. They'd slept until it was nearly dark outside. The household was still awake, Erik could hear them talking and closing the windows and shutters on the house on the floor below. Erik had to agree with Christine, it had grown cold outside, though in her presence, he felt nothing but warmth through and through.
Erik heard footsteps on the stairs, and then a gentle knock on the door of the master chamber. "Monsieur?" Called a small voice. The woman peeked inside the door hearing no reply.
Erik called out through the open door between the two rooms. "We are in here." The woman glanced over to where she had heard Erik's voice. Seeing him there holding Christine in his lap, she smiled. She had a small bundle of wood in her arms.
"I'll start a fire for you Monsieur, then I'll bring you up a fresh pot of tea." Erik nodded, "thank you." Erik thought for a moment. "You've no need to bring the pot of tea up, we shall come down." She smiled at him as she knelt next to the fireplace arranging the kindling, "very well Monsieur."
As Erik sat with Christine in his arms, inside a room that would be the nursery for their yet unborn children, he watched as the maid built the fire. He shook his head briefly, just once. How very odd it was…it was nearly a normal set of circumstances, in a normal household…and he relished the thought that there might be many, many, more days in their lives where he might bask in these simple pleasures.
Living for years beneath the Opera House, no fire to warm him, no woman to love him, had eroded his grasp on humanity. But now, slowly, the creature he held within his arms had breathed life back into him.
Soon the maid was finished, and she rose going from the room. Erik lifted Christine into his arms, carrying her through the doors, laying her carefully on the bed. He went to her closets, where the things that had been brought from Courtland Manor were placed. He looked through the wardrobe, not many items were in that closet that would be fitting her soon. He'd have to take her into to Chauesser and have a seamstress make her garments suitable for her present circumstances.
Erik drew out a thick nightdress, and a plush robe. Going back to Christine he smiled as he looked at her sleeping like a kitten curled once again in a ball in the center of their expansive bed. Laying her items down on the bed, he went about changing into his nightclothes and long black smoking jacket. He was grateful that his staff had retrieved some of their personal effects from Courtland Manor; it made their stay at the winter house a bit more comfortable. Once dressed, he returned to Christine.
She was just beginning to open her eyes. The radiant glow from the fire had begun to warm the room. Erik stood beside her just watching as the slow, deliberate, blinks of her eyelids, rimmed in long silk-like raven-black lashes, revealed the warm chocolate brown eyes of the woman he so loved.
She reached out her hand for his. "Erik…" He came to rest next to her on the edge of the bed, taking her hand in his. "I am dreadfully sorry for my behavior…to have left so abruptly…I know that I shan't worry for a future over which I am able to exert so little control. I know that you worry for me…I can see it in your eyes.."
Erik looked away…had it been that obvious? "We have been through so very much together, you and I, and this shall be no different." Christine tried to sit up, Erik coming swiftly to her aid as she found herself somewhat tangled in the blanket he'd wrapped around her.
She leaned her head over onto his shoulder, rubbing her soft cheek on the curve of his neck. "Erik, there is a happy serendipity about all of this." Erik looked at her with such question in his eye…how ever did she arrive at this optimistic conclusion? Christine smiled at him.
"All those years we spent in one another's company, not really knowing….we learned to love each other…appreciate each other…" She nestled into Erik's chest. "I never thought I'd find a true love…someone as passionate about life as my father." She kissed his neck, sending a shudder down his spine. "Lads my age were decidedly less than exemplary in that regard…others wanted mere ornaments…others well…I wasn't like some of the other girls at the Opera House." Christine looked down at her lap. Erik knew what she meant.
Christine turned her head looking back up into the depths of the oceans that were Erik's eyes. In her own glowed a deep, mesmeric, passion. Her voice as sure and pining as a mourning dove. "And you my dearest Erik, how long you suffered, how long you waited, how long you tarried upon the thought of our being as one." Erik felt flushed…she had known. A moment of silence fell upon them, their eyes locked in a hypnotic dance.
Christine tilted her head back, reaching up with her index finger lifting Erik's chin so that he too was staring up at the ceiling above their bed. "I've found your secrets my love…."
Erik smiled as he stared at the precise point where he'd finished his painting on that ceiling. Where, when he'd finally come to the end of his labors on that hot summer afternoon. In love he'd fashioned it; he'd hidden the words in the swirls of the ribbons. And truly, only she could have found them. Erik tilted his head back down, looking deeply into Christine's pleading eyes.
"If one has waited so long….loved so much….I shan't see how God would separate us now that we are finally where we belong, where we've always belonged, in one another's arms." Christine said, a single tear cresting and breaching her lower lid.
Erik leaned down placing a passionate kiss on Christine's lips. He wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her torso against his. Gently, he turned slowly lowering her to the comfort of the bed beneath them. He would be gentle, he would be tender…he loved this woman…loved her with every fiber of his being…and they could do nothing more than express their love in the way that their creator had given them.
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Nadir's carriage rattled off of the cobblestone streets onto the dirt paths that would lead to Raoul's house. He both looked forward to, and was concerned for his arrival at Raoul's. The pine box would make him less than welcome, though he really had no choice in the matter.
His mind wandered to all he'd have to accomplish the next day. He hoped to have Sara at Perdue's just shortly after sunrise, to avoid traversing the streets of Paris during a busy day. He needed to care for so many things. After he'd deposited Sara, he'd be off to the offices of the government, and then Sara's Inn. That much he'd settled upon.
Nadir looked at the wrapped gift on the seat across from him that had bounced around all the way from the winter house. No doubt Meg would be grateful to receive it. He knew how very much Christine and Meg cared for one another. Their separation was painful for truly this was the longest they'd been parted since Madame Giry had taken Christine under her wing. The package was daintily wrapped, something Meg would appreciate no doubt. He smiled, it would bring a bit of happiness to the young woman.
Nadir's mind made the easy transition from Meg to her mother. He smiled, a slightly different expression crossing his face. Erik's words were ringing in his ears. "We are not young men anymore…" His thoughts wandered to Meg. He could hardly believe what she had told him…her mother hadn't denied it… How in the world would he ever broach this subject, how would he, or could he even begin to think of himself at a time such as this? Nadir knew of Erik's wishes, that both he and Madame Giry should find happiness. It had been a very long time since either of them had taken comfort in the pleasures of another's affections. For now, Nadir would be entirely pleased to sit and talk with her, to be near her, nothing more. IF it was to be, he would not force nature's hand, he would let it run its due course.
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The doctor finished examining the man. His pulse had slowed. In part because of the morphine he'd administered for his comfort, and in part because his body was no longer putting up a fight. Though his life's mission had been to preserve life, inside, he hoped for a swift, heaven-sent act of mercy. The man's condition was floundering…he could do no more for him.
The doctor removed the stethoscope from his ears. He looked at the man's wife, whose eyes were searching his face for any shred of hope. She sighed, for there was none. A bitter gloom, nay, the shadow of death, had settled upon the room where the man lay slowly leaving this world for the next.
He stood, wishing to leave this husband and wife alone for what would surely be the last hours of his life. He'd wait outside, at a respectable distance in case he were needed, though he couldn't imagine why. He reached out placing his hand on the woman's shoulder. He nodded as she looked up at him. "I'll be but a door away if you need me." She fought back the swell of tears, barely able to say, "thank you.."
The doctor walked out, silently closing the door to the room. Finding a chair in the hallway, he settled in for the wait. He'd done this so many times, for so many families…but it never got any easier. Especially in a case such as this one, when a man and his family are robbed of his life, in a senseless act of treachery.
He'd be traveling no further tonight, so he slipped his hand inside of his satchel, retrieving a small flask of brandy. He used it medicinally of course, and for comforting grieving widows. But tonight, in the house of a woman of temperance, it would be of no use to anyone but him.
Tipping the silver vessel just slightly, he poured in a bit of the liquid. He sighed. In truth liquor was nothing more than cruel manipulation of one's nervous system. It dulled the senses, giving one temporary leave of their pain. But, as sure as night follows day, it would come back with a vengeance once the affects had left the blood. Though his rational mind understood all of this, his cause and effect mind longed for the relief, if however temporal.
He thought back to the last nights that he'd spent visiting with Raoul, with Meg. He was entirely certain that they would fare without him, though he felt guilty. He'd promised Meg to be there every night. His guilt traveled deeper yet; truly another issue beleaguered his already wearied mind. Would the doctor who treated Meg in that small village have been able to save the man who now lay dying in the next room? He'd never met another physician who'd made him question his own competence…until now.
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After the dessert dishes were cleared away, Madeline came in with a pot of coffee. Raoul rose to meet her. Taking the silver server from her hand, he leaned down and whispered something in her ear. She smiled up at him, reaching out to touch his forearm. She curtsied slightly, turning she left the room.
Raoul went first to Madame Giry, filling her cup, then to Meg, then to his father. The senior DeChagny was looking daggers at him, though he'd not repeat his performance from earlier in the day. Raoul finished with his own cup, and then returned the pot to the silver service Madeline had placed on the buffet. Raoul found his place once again at the table.
The group was silent as they each took a sip from their cups. All that could be heard was the gentle scraping sound of a china cup reclaiming its home in the indent of its mated saucer.
The group was distracted as they heard a slight rattling at the window. Instinctively, Raoul jumped to his feet, going over to the glass, pushing the curtain aside. He was certain to remain directly in the path of anything that might find its way to Meg. There was nothing there. He leaned down looking outside. Nothing could be seen, the sky was dark, not so much as a star twinkled, and the moon was obscured by a thick blanket of shadowy clouds. In what little light emanated from the house, Raoul could see the shrubbery and yearling trees that had just been planted, swaying heavily in the wind. The window rattled once more, this time a bit longer.
"It appears that a storm is coming," Raoul said as he turned back to the three who had risen from the their chairs and had been inching over to the window out of curiosity. A cold gust of wind broke through the cracks in the window frames. With the storm windows having been removed now that winter was over, the cold air easily made its way inside. "I guess in this case it didn't pay for that early bird to remove the windows so soon." Raoul said, slightly mocking his father's favorite statement.
Raoul glanced over at the fire; he'd have to see to having the staff bring in more firewood, lest the house cool too much for comfort. He turned as he heard a sound coming from the hallway. It was Madeline. She'd no doubt just finished drawing his father's bath, and lighting a fire in his room. He nodded, and she did so in return to acknowledge that she was finished. She turned, now going out to join the others. Celtic music had always been her favorite. Its deep mournful tones beckoned her.
"Father," he said looking at the man who was so obviously tired, and in need of rest. "Your room has been arranged for you."
DeChagny knowing that it meant his bath was readied. "I suppose I shall retire, it has been a long day. I've enjoyed the pleasure of your company for dinner this evening." He went to Madame Giry, reaching out lifting her knuckles to his lips, "Madame." Then turning to Meg, he did the same, "Madelmoiselle." He turned and departed through the doors and on up to his room. He was grateful to be going, and they were grateful to have him go, they could relax.
A broad smile crossed Raoul's face. Meg wondered at it. She glanced over at her mother, she was doing the same. "What is it? The two of you smiling at me…what?" Madame Giry nodded at Raoul.
He extended his arm to Meg, "come, we've something we'd like to show you." He began walking Meg toward the stairs. Madame Giry following just slightly behind. Raoul paused, he smiled back at Madame Giry, extending his other arm, "Madame Giry?" She smiled, coming in to accept. As he escorted them up the stairs he said, "tonight fortune smiles upon me, I've not one, but two wonderful women on my arm!" They all laughed. Meg didn't know for certain, but she had an idea of where they might be going.
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Nadir's carriage finally turned onto the long path that led straightaway to Raoul's house. Ten minutes…in ten minutes he'd have to think of some way to break it to the stable staff that they would have to shelter, if but for one night, the pine box. With any good fortune at all, he'd be able to bring the box into the stables undetected, having first the opportunity to tell them of it before they saw it. Yes, ten minutes…and he'd get to see her….Madame Giry. He shivered again. The night had grown cold, making him look forward all that much more to the warmth of a fire and good company.
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Erik and Christine lay awake in each other's arms. She was drawing pictures on his chest with her fingers. He was running his mindlessly through the loose strains of her dark curls. They'd been talking about names. They'd both conceded…one of each they'd decided, at least for the time being they'd be at a truce. They'd pick three of each, listed of course in order of preference. So far, they'd had only two. Gustave, Christoph, Katherine, Sara. They'd toyed with the idea of Meg and Nadir, but the thought of it had only elicited a fit of laughter between the two of them, trying to imagine using those names. "That is at least a beginning, we've months to decide." Christine said smiling up at Erik. She shivered.
"There is indeed a chill in the air isn't there?" Erik said as he drew the blankets up further around Christine's shoulder. They could hear the winds beginning to howl outside. The storm windows were always left on at the winter house, save a few that they removed on the lower floor when they came to clean it once a month during the time that it sat unoccupied during the warmer months.
"My dear, I've retrieved some night clothes for you, if you'd like to…." Erik's voice dropped off. Christine was staring up at him with a pout. Erik laughed, growling just a bit, he slid back down next to her. "My dear, you behave as if we are still on our honeymoon!" He smiled at her. "If you'd prefer, I could retrieve the pot of tea the maid was going to prepare for us." Erik paused, that had been over an hour ago.
Christine smiled at Erik. "And perhaps our dessert?" Christine had left the table before she'd had time to consume hers. Erik leaned down, pecking her on the end of her nose. "And dessert."
Erik rose, putting on once again his nightclothes and smoking jacket. He went to the window with the intention of pulling the drapes in tighter to block out any hint of breeze. He parted the curtains slightly. He turned back, looking over his shoulder, he smiled at Christine. He had the look of a small boy on his face, a boy who'd just taken his first peek at the Christmas tree…. "Christine, come…." Erik held out his hand to her.
She slid from the bed, putting on her robe, padding over on the cold floor to his side. Erik took her hand pulling her into his arms, and then turning her back into his chest. He led her toward the window, moving the curtain as he wrapped his arms protectively around her. His head coming to rest just above her left ear. Christine looked out the window marveling. Erik whispered, "perhaps we are still on our honeymoon."
From the outside, looking into the warm glow, a couple stood in their bedroom on the upper floor of their house. A flickering fire as the backdrop, the window as a frame. There outside, as the chilly winds blew, gusts of snowflakes were falling. A spring snow…sometimes they produced the most curious storms. Unpredictable, uncontrolled, and sometimes unequalled. The ground had only a light dusting. But as they stared up into the sky, they could see that it was progressively increasing.
They were in the warmth of their home, in the warmth of each other's arms, and they'd no other place they needed to be. Since Mother Nature had seen fit to set the mood, they'd relish it, they'd decided. Even if for just this one night, they could pretend, they were indeed still on their honeymoon, for truly, theirs had been cut short.
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Raoul had made Meg close her eyes, though she knew right where she was. He reached down sliding the key into her hand, and then gently gliding it into the door. "Now my dearest Meg, open it." Raoul whispered into Meg's ear. He turned to smile at Madame Giry. Tears were welling up in her eyes. She turned the key, until she heard the lock unlatch. She opened her eyes, smiling at Raoul, he nodded. She pushed open the door, immediately gasping.
Meg walked slowly into the room, Raoul following her in. Madame Giry stood in the doorway not wanting to diminish the feeling of the moment for the two of them.
Meg had known that he'd replaced the furnishing, or she might have felt faint again. Raoul was smiling at her. The room had been repainted a lovely shade of cream, accented with pale yellow. There were a number of vases of cream-colored roses, from his greenhouse no doubt, giving the room a heady scent. The bed was four posts, and hanging from them were layers and layers of the finest ivory lace, held at the corners with wide golden satin ribbons running down and curling on the sheen of the newly polished hard-wood floor. A new pair of settees was in front of the fireplace, a lovely buttery cream fabric covering them. An ornamental rug woven deeply with ivory roses and heavy vine, lay on the floor. A small wooden table provided a slight separation for the two, only large enough for several dainty china cups and a tea pot.
Meg looked over in the corner, next to the window where she and her mother had stood gazing down at the statue. The one thing that had remained in the room was the large dressing mirror with the crushed stone. Next to it sat a new piece, and it looked like a mate to the original. The most lovely vanity that Meg had ever seen. It too was inlaid with the crushed stone and gems, the oval mirror looking just like a smaller version of the larger one. The chair was made of exquisite tufted velvet, plumped full of the finest feathers. An entirely new set of implements lay on the top, all golden gilded. Several bottles of parfumes, scented lotions and oils lay atop a crystal tray. The light from the candles danced off the angulated cuts of it, glittering like a million diamonds.
Meg's tears overflowed as she walked from one part of the room to the next. She ran her hands along the gleaming edges of the polished wood. Every color, every texture, were what she would have chosen if she had selected the items for herself. She walked over to the bed. There was a small set of stairs leading up to it, the bed itself had been replaced, and now a larger bed, even more sumptuous than the last was in its place. The covers were made of the most lovely embroidered silk Meg had ever laid eyes upon. Its thick brocaded edges seemed to glint in the soft light of the tall, graceful hurricane lamps that lay on either side of it.
All of this was all utterly overwhelming for her. What had once been in the room had been entirely lovely, rich. Yet somehow, it had been outdone by what the room now contained. It felt a bit like what she thought a royal family would have.
One more turn revealed to her, a place she'd no doubt she would spend many hours. There in the corner, on the opposite side of the bed, nestled in, was a most curious piece of furniture. It was a nearly circular shaped couch of sorts, covered in a deep creamy velvet, numerous velvet pillows leaned up against the back of it. It lay just beneath the window that Meg had stared out the night before. In the summer it would be a place she would love to sit as it overlooked a beautiful garden, and as its backdrop the Eastern horizon where she could watch the rising sun.
"Oh Raoul…" Meg said in a breathy tone. She turned scanning the room. Bathed in the light of several regal hurricane lamps, she sighed, the room looked like a fairy tale.
Raoul leaned down, placing a tender kiss on Meg's cheek, brushing away a loose wisp of hair. "A room more fitting you." He said, smiling at her sincerely. He led her by the hand to the doors of the closet. "My dear…" he said.
Meg's heart fluttered. She'd not even thought about the closet, it hadn't even occurred to her that he might change the contents of it. She held her breath as he opened the doors for her. The entire interior of the closet had been changed. Yes there were still mirrors on the opposite wall, but in place of a simple set of poles for garments were four heavily carved armoires. Yet another settee lay at the center of the room so that Meg might dress within the privacy of that room if she liked.
Raoul nodded at Meg as she put her hand on the first of the armoires. She opened the door to find dresses of every shade and color that Meg had ever admired. A pale sage, a lovely saffron yellow, a pale rose, a buttery peach, a silver-hued lilac, a rich cinnamon, a champagne ivory. Each dress a different fabric, some with lace, some with deep ornamentation, some with lovely embroidery. Meg had never had so many lovely things all at once, and perhaps none as expensive or as exquisite as even one of them.
The next armoire was full of silken under garments, night dresses and no less than three evening robes. The third was full of matching shoes, several parasols, shawls, cloaks and the like.
Raoul blushed, the next armoire was delivered at his behest. Meg walked to it opening it she found that it was entirely empty. She paused, turning to look at Raoul. He came up next to her, whispering in her ear. "This one my dear, you shall one day fill yourself…it is for a special dress, and a trousseau. It is my hope that one day you'll have want to fill this."
Meg did feel faint now. She leaned into Raoul, tears streaming down both of their faces. Raoul simply held her. "I am sorry that I'd put you in this room before…even though it had never been occupied or seen, it was a cruel thing that I did. I hope that you can forgive me…"
Meg looked up at Raoul, her mind made up to refuse the apology as it was entirely unnecessary… instead she found herself reaching her hand behind his neck, pulling his head towards hers, gently kissing him.
Madame Giry averted her eyes. She felt a bit like an unintended guest.
Truly the pair were lost in the moment. Raoul reached down slipping his arms around Meg's back as he pulled her to him. All of his doubts washing away in those moments. They would have a long road, Raoul knew it, but he could for the first time, picture the two of them in it.
"Raoul," Meg said, "I didn't mind those other things…but thank you for doing this for me…but how in the world did you ever…we were together the entire time, how could you have known…the cream colored roses, the velvet, the lace? All of my favorite things…." Meg was genuinely curious.
Raoul looked over his shoulder, nodding to Madame Giry. She came into the dressing room where they stood. "I did have a bit of help from an expert on your likes and dislikes…" Raoul said smiling as Madame Giry entered, taking hold of Meg's hand.
"Mother?" A smile crossing Meg's face, "but when did you have time, wherever did you find all of these things…the hurricane lamps, the crystal, the settees?" She looked at her mother.
Madame Giry smiled at Meg and then at Raoul. "I too had a bit of help, Raoul was kind enough to have his sister at my disposal."
Meg smiled. His sister had helped make all of these selections? That was a very good sign…good sign indeed. Meg's face went blank…. "Raoul, but what of all of this once I am well enough to…." Meg immediately felt ashamed for even mentioning it.
Raoul's face turning down slightly. "Meg, we shall cross that bridge when we've come to it..for now….I wanted you to be comfortable, to feel entirely at home here while you recuperate." Raoul leaned down placing a kiss on Meg's nose. In truth, he hoped she would never want to leave…those items would never belong to anyone but her…and wherever she went, if she did not stay there, they would follow.
"Thank you Raoul, thank you…and mother." She leaned over embracing her mother. "Thank you." She whispered in her ear. Madame Giry smiled.
"Now it is not yet time to retire, and I've but one more treat for you." Raoul knew what that would be, the lady fingers...suitable only with a cup of coffee. Perhaps they would retire to the parlor once more while they waited for Nadir. Certainly he would be along anytime now, unless he'd waited until tomorrow.
The trio went out of the room, and descended the stairs as they had gone up, one on each of Raoul's bent arms.
"So that is why you kept me out of that room." Meg said playfully, "spilled wax indeed." Raoul laughed, "now my dear, truly there was spilled wax in the room, thought I dare say not in large enough supply that you couldn't have worked around it." Meg laughed again, it was trickery, playful trickery. She and Raoul had become rather gifted at playing games.
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Nadir's carriage approached the side of the house. The cold winds had begun to howl. He wondered at the large glow he saw from the back of the house in the direction of the stables. It looked as if the entire back gardens were aflame. His hopes of arriving undetected quickly withered.
Raoul's staff had finished their dinner, and were deciding to retreat indoors to continue their merriment as it had grown unseasonably cold. A damp chill was in the air. "It is entirely unusual to have such weather this late in the season, it does not bode well my friend." They looked up. "Is that snow?" One looked at the other nodding.
Soon all of the staff were standing outside looking at the sky as the winds began to howl, swirls of snowflakes began to fall fast and furiously. "No sir, it does not bode well at all it's an omen I tell you…"
The other man was about to protest when at that precise moment, Nadir's carriage came round the side of the building heading directly toward them, toward the carriage house.
The first maid gasped, she had spotted it. A hush fell over the group as they looked at the pine box beneath the carriage. It might as well have been driven by the headless horseman from the dark fairy tale….its mere approach and presence sent an eerie wave of apprehension through all who gazed upon it.
In the swirling snow, the blowing wind, the opening of the carriage door caused yet another layer to the growing trepidation. Nadir stepped out of the carriage, his cloak fluttering ominously behind him in the gale, as he took in the terror he saw in their eyes.
He knew what was on their minds without asking. They thought he'd brought this omen upon them by bringing this box to rest in their stables. They'd not greeted him, simply looked at him with apprehension and loathing.
Nadir turned, Meg's package tucked under his cloak, and walked toward the house. There was nothing for him to say. The carriage rattled off slowly toward the last stall of the carriage house. The entertainers were already removing their items from the carriage house dining hall. The festivities were over now….most decidedly over.
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"Doctor!" The woman called out for him. He rose to his feet quickly opening the door and rushing to the woman's side. "He's trying to say something…" she looked at him pleadingly…it was the end, she knew it…his hands had already begun to grow cold.
The doctor leaned down closely trying to listen. In a low guttural tone he could hear what would be the man's last words… "he said Raoul was next…he was next…." And he breathed his last.
Author's Notes:
Dear Faithfuls: In the days that this was written, it was unseasonably cold where I am. There was indeed a nip in the air and my morning walks required a jacket be worn. Depending on where you hale from, this chapter might provide relief from the heat, or, a forward look at the impending fall. Either way, I hope no one felt chilled to the bone. The next chapters might require a cup of hot cocoa! Don't say I didn't warn you!
Lireil-eris: It was very nice to hear from you. I must say I am a bit like a doting mother that waits up for her children when they're out past curfew! I worry. Oh yes, coffee, tea, and me. I know most people are usually staunch devotees of one beverage or the other, but for me, I could not decide. I fully appreciate, and religiously indulge myself in both beverages. In fact, as I sit here now I have both a cup of hazelnut brew, and a glass of iced jasmine tea sitting at my side! I do believe I have a split personality! Iced mocha's, latte's cappuccinos…most decidedly a wonderful treat. I'm certain that Erik and Christine would have loved them as much as we do….too bad they didn't have a Starbucks or shaved ice back then! LOL But they did have some things we don't have so much any more. Choclatiers really were there, not just Godovia, and not just for special occasions. It was very much a part of their lives…the simple pleasures. This world is far too fast and demanding for most of to slow down and enjoy those things for more than a minute and then we are off and running again. Perhaps that is why this period of history is so fascinating to me!
I smiled today when I read that you are part Russian. Just last evening I was dining with friends at a Russian restaurant "The St.Petersberg". Our waiter was a handsome chap, actually from Russia. I had the most wonderful poached dill salmon (his suggestion), and of course no visit to a Russian restaurant would be complete without a cup of borscht! Then a most curious Russian dessert, long stemmed cherries, marinated in brandy, chilled, dipped in chocolate, and served with a shot of cherry infused vodka! It was all very Russian! The white linen tables, the heavily carved chairs, the use of gold and cobalt blue in the décor and plates and glasses, all very Russian. I loved every minute of it! Yes, I rather look forward to my trip to Europe. We've yet to decide the length, I suppose it will depend on how many countries we try to take in. I've no doubt it will be at least 14 days, perhaps a few more. I am a bit afraid, that I shan't want to come home! I always have a grieving process when I leave a country that I fall in love with!
Yes, our dear Christine. I think it gives us some insight into her character. Though in many ways she's so "grown up", she still has the irrational side at times. She'd been excited about becoming pregnant, not even thinking about the delivery…sometimes when we are young we focus so much on the temporary acquisition of something, that we forget to think about the outcomes, the long term affect on our lives…this is the case with Christine….not that she could really have prevented the pregnancy though…. Yes, childbirth in those days was dangerous for both mother and child. Delivery methods were primitive and often unassisted…if a mother couldn't deliver on her own, she often died trying. But let us do remember that this young woman is being tended by a gifted, forward thinking physician! So, things may be much brighter for her than most!
I'm happy to hear you share my thoughts on Leroux…I think he, just like several other great authors such as Edgar Allen Poe, was a tormented soul. Too bad we never really knew of the woman who jilted him that caused such a story to be born in his mind….ahh….that would be an interesting story indeed…the thoughts inside the head of an author that causes them to write what they do…..hmmm. I'll have to think about that one a bit more.
Hope you enjoyed the part about Meg FINALLY getting to see her room. So much had to happen there, it took several days for them to finish it!
ElvieIII: I admit I am always flattered when someone tells me that this is their favorite fanfic… I only wish I had a way to express my gratitude because mere words do not do justice to how that makes my heart soar! This has been a wonderful thing for me to be able to do…I feel so alive…and it warms my heart to know that others are enjoying it too! bows humbly
Ahh, do not worry. I may have plenty of mischievous bones in my body, but not one cruel one! I hate it, and I use that word with all of its intended force, when you are reading a story, or watching a movie that you are very much enjoying and then it ends abruptly and you are left wondering what in the world happened. I think if they can't finish it, they shouldn't start it…but…that's just me! So much of life doesn't provide resolution, no definitive answers…why in the world should we have to tolerate that in our entertainment when the authors are quite capable of finishing their work properly? O.K., now I've ranted and raved, and I will be quiet. All that to say, that shan't be me!
Raoul a ponce? Well, yes, perhaps he is trying to put Christine out of his life…but let us keep in mind he believes she is dead…or never coming back which is as good as dead. Inside he has the pressure from his father to produce an heir, and he really does care for Meg. Perhaps he's going a bit overboard trying to show her he is ready to move on. Though it does seem a bit premature…I think he is trying to make sure that THIS ONE does not get away! It is hard to tell what he will do when or if he finds out about Christine…that truly would be a test wouldn't it?
DancingDragon42: Thank you for the compliment on the chapter. I rather enjoyed that one myself! I could just see DeChagny eyeing Meg's every move to see how she handled herself, and if she was "worthy" of Raoul's affections. Madame Giry must have been very proud of her daughter, and very thankful that she'd spent all that time training her daughter in their little dorm room at the Opera House. Sometimes a mother does things for her children preparing them for a future she hopes they will have. Other people might think her to be crazy, but in moments such as this, when social manners matter so much, it makes all of the work worth it!
Yes, the babies…I can hardly wait to see them myself!
ChristineluvsErik: LOL! What was for dessert indeed! By now you already know! Yes, the romantic side of me will not be silenced…just when I think it has…well…it hasn't. In this case, I think dessert was the best course of all! Oh my…I'm just realizing now that you probably meant at Raoul's….and I was thinking about the cake for Erik and Christine….I am truly blushing…. O.K., at Raoul's….the glorious apple pies that Madeline had been baking! She topped them with fresh whipped cream with grated vanilla bean, and a glorious drizzle of creamy caramel that dripped down the sides, clinging to each exposed slice of apple and flaky crust, pooling on the bottom of the plate, reflecting the eyes of the beholder as they eagerly searched for their forks….yikes…I think I need dessert! See…it's that autumn thing again…I'm getting so ready for my trip to the orchard, and the ensuing rash of baking with apples and cinnamon that follow shortly thereafter!
MeowLeFae: It is wonderful to hear from you! I do worry about my faithfuls when our little Phamily hasn't heard from them! I couldn't agree more…cranberry relish is a delight…we make ours with the crushed cranberries, celery, toasted and chopped pecans, a bit of grated orange peel, sugar…yes, it is a treat indeed…no fowl is properly dressed without it! I laughed when I read your analogy of the trim waistlines! Yes, meals were a long drawn-out process then. The portions were not huge, but great emphasis, especially in Europe at among the elite, was put on relishing a fine meal, and sometimes it was an all-evening event. They would have bristled at the idea of "fast-food". Food was meant to be savored, enjoyed, celebrated. So, perhaps they had it right, and we have it wrong…they enjoyed their meals…most of cannot even remember what we ate the day before! Just an observation!
Loved the line about Geico…I have a friend who pulls that one out of the hat every once in awhile. She makes up a somewhat plausible scenario about some awful thing that happened to her, only to end it with that line…but I just saved a ton on my insurance by switching to Geico! I want to ring her little neck! Here I'm trying to be empathetic and I've just been dupped! She loves it!
Yes, work can often be a zoo. Most of us can picture just who you mean as you named each creature…a few faces come to mind for me right now!
Tex110: Thank you for the compliment on the chapter. I am glad you are enjoying the story thus far. Yes, the altitude in Colorado is a bit high for me as well. One of the last times I was there, a friend had brought his car along, a new high-performance car no less, and he had all sorts of trouble just because of that very thing! I must say that the first days we were there it was a bit of a chore walking. I remember the day we went to Seven Falls, I thought I was going to croak! I used the abundant supply of chipmunks in the area as an excuse to go slow…I had to stop and feed them of course!
Crayann: Good to hear from you! I understand completely…we all get very busy. I am always happy to hear that our Phamily members are keeping up with the story even if they don't have time to review. I smiled, and blushed, as I read your note. If I do get this published, I've quite a little signing to do…and of course, my Phamily would come first!
When you talk about New Jersey…ah yes, it reminds me of the wonderful autumn I spent in New England, I dare say a while back now. It was entirely wonderful! We spent time in Pennsylvania, New Jersey, upstate New York, Vermont, New Hampshire, Massachusetts, Connecticut, Maine, Delaware, West Virginia…then up into Canada. It will live in my mind as one of my most favorite autumns! That part of the United States is so absolutely wonderful, especially that time of year…it is at its pinnacle of beauty then. Have you ever heard of Shelburne Farms (Vermont), or The Mount Washington Inn? They are two places I actually dream about. Sitting in the library of a Vanderbilt mansion late at night in front of the same hearth they sat in front of…it was like walking among ghosts… I could go on and on about New England…but I shan't. If you live there…you already know the feeling…
PhantomFan13: Meg was reacting, not thinking. When she made a dash for the carriage house, it was simply impulse. She'd no idea that all of her stuff was stored out there, she just happened upon it. Her guilt is driving her to do things that are entirely irrational. She couldn't even explain to herself why she'd run there! She was panicked about being discovered. Inside she feels this turmoil. She has this terrible secret she is hiding from Raoul, actually, several secrets, and now she feels she's further betrayed him because she'd promised him the other night that she'd not go outside unaccompanied….and where is that she finds herself? Just where she'd promised him she wouldn't be! So, it is all leading up to what is sure to be a difficult time when Meg can no longer take her guilt…..
Yes, I have spent quite a little time on Raoul and Meg…it is all part of the plan my dear. You cannot really care about a character that you barely know…and their developing relationship is important to the ultimate culmination of the story…there is a struggle there that has to be learned, explained, for it will make the ending that much more understandable, plausible…. I am happy to hear that you will remain faithful to the end….as shall I! I do apologize that my responses are sometimes very brief. Depending on the number of reviews, and my time of course, they can be rather short. I never want anyone to feel slighted and therefore try to give everyone a little something! Hope you enjoyed this chapter…