Madeline came into the library as Nadir was reading the last of the story. "Poor little Oliver, it did seem fitting that he'd found his calling in the end. It would be years before he'd discover what hidden talents the toils of his youth had produced, for one day he'd be penning a story of a poor little boy himself! The End."
The group was clapping. "Well done sir, well done." DeChagny said to Nadir. "I should say that was excellent. I've not heard that story well, since I believe Raoul was a young lad, his mother used to read it to him."
Raoul smiled and nodded. That is precisely why he'd not objected when Nadir had settled upon that story, though he'd told no one.
"Dinner served, you come." Madeline said, taking on a bit more formal tone with DeChangy present. She flashed a smile at Raoul, and he nodded to her. "Dinner done, dessert served in drawing room, please, you, Raoul there half past eight."
The group turned and looked at Raoul. His father being the first to inquire, "and what of this? Dessert in the drawing room?"
Raoul smiled walking past his father, extending his arm to Meg. "You shall see. With Madeline's kind indulgence, I've a surprise for our guests this evening." He smiled down at Meg, leaning down to put a kiss on her forehead. Meg blushed, Raoul had not displayed his affections in quite so public a way before. "Shall we my dear?" Meg smiled, slipping her arm in his, rising to join him.
Madame Giry had only glanced once at Nadir, and was preparing to follow Raoul and Meg into the hallway when she heard Nadir clear his throat. She looked up and there he stood, his arm extended. "Madame Giry, would you do me the honor?" Madame Giry smiled, and slipped her arm in on his, the pair following Raoul and Meg into the dining room.
Madeline stood in the doorway. DeChagny was still for a moment before uttering a singular "hmmmp." He then followed the others. He was not accustomed to being left out as it were, but tonight he felt like a fifth wheel on a carriage designed for four.
XXXXX
Christine woke, the damp shirt cold against her skin. She'd no idea how long she'd slept but she knew it had been a long while as the sky was starting to turn; it would be dark within the hour. She doubted very much that she would see Erik tonight, indeed she hoped he'd find somewhere warm to sleep in the city, she shan't want anyone to be out on a night as bitter and unsuitably cold as this one.
She rose from her bed, meandering over to the fire. The staff had allowed her privacy she could tell, the embers in the hearth were nearly spent. She put a few smallish sticks in first, and blew on them just slightly. It took but a few breaths and the kindling was a glowing orange. Carefully she positioned several smaller logs on top, waiting and watching as the tender bark took to the flame. Then she'd positioned one larger and two smaller logs on top of that, just the way her father had taught her.
She sat keeping watch to be certain the fire would keep going. As she sat there, the glow of the fire shown in her eyes. Though her skin began to feel warm from the growing flames, she felt bitterly cold inside. She shuddered. She began rubbing her hands together, trying to warm them, holding them out then to the fire. Though the flesh became warm, she still felt cold, though she knew she shan't. She sat down in front of the fire, her legs crossed. Using the poker she pushed the logs about in the fire, trying to further encourage their progress. In truth she had hoped that the warmth that emanated from the hearth would soothe her chill, but it did not. Perhaps it would take a bit of warm tea, and a bit of soup.
Her emotions had gotten the best of her today. Perhaps this was an extension of that confusion. She'd take in some supper, and tend to the writing she'd intended to do for Erik. The thought of being wrapped in the blankets in the library below was an inviting one. She smiled to herself. She rose rather quickly, making her feel a bit light headed. She reached for the chair. She'd a pain in her side, just below the hip bone. Perhaps she'd risen too quickly, she'd have to be more careful. She could almost hear Erik's scolding words in her mind. She smiled. He would be as exhausted as she was by the time the children were born, for certainly his worrisome doting would weary him.
She slipped on her bed clothes, and a thick robe of Erik's she'd retrieved from the closet. Then she stopped. Smiling yet again, she removed the robe and the night dress, preferring to slip on the night shirt Erik had worn the night before. The maid had missed it when she'd collected the articles earlier. Erik had hung it on the handle of the door to the water closet. It was Christine's good fortune to have found it since his other shirt was a cold damp rag in the center of their bed now. Slipping on the night shirt and then his robe, made her smile a bit more. It was as close as she could get now to being in his arms. No doubt it would elicit strange looks from their staff, but she didn't mind. She had need to explain her actions to no one.
She made her way down the stairs to the kitchen. "Misty?" The young girl stood from the table where she'd been eating her own supper. "Mum?"
Christine walked over to her. She'd been dining alone, the other staff having already eaten and she'd just finished the supper dishes herself. "Are you ready for some dinner mum? I've some hot soup, and some bread if you'd like, or I could make you something else, whatever you prefer."
Christine smiled at her. "My dear, please do finish your dinner. No doubt you've had a very long day, what with entertaining me all afternoon, and then seeing to your own duties."
Misty smiled, "no, I do insist. You've had a difficult day mum, and you're just recovering from not feeling well. Please do sit in the dining room, I'll have dinner for you in but a few minutes." The girl was in motion before Christine could protest further. She looked over at Misty's half-eaten bowl of soup, and the book she'd been reading laying face down on the table. It was the one she'd selected when Erik had given all the staff a treat at the mercantile. Christine pointed to the book, "do you mind at all if I have a look at your book?"
Misty smiled looking over her shoulder as she began slicing the bread. "Not at all mum, it's a wonderful story."
Christine smiled as she glanced at the first few pages. She'd pulled out the chair across from Misty's at the small servant's table and sat down. She flipped through several more pages. "Do you find the reading difficult at all?"
Misty flashed her an inquisitive glance. "No mum," she smiled at Christine. "I know that I rarely speak what one would consider perfectly proper English, but I do tend to find books of more advanced vocabulary a bit more intriguing."
Christine smiled at her. Perhaps she could become a tutor for the rest. If she was able to read with some ease at this level, she could certainly make use of this skill. She'd talk to Erik about it when he returned. Next Saturday was the appointed day for the dinner he'd suggested having with his staff. Perhaps there they could do some planning for how this might all take shape.
"Mum, I'd be happy to serve you now." Misty had everything loaded on a small tray and was walking toward the door leading to the dining room.
Christine looked back at Misty's dinner. "Would you mind terribly, if I'd join you here? There is no sense in the two of us eating alone in separate rooms. I should dare say I wouldn't mind the company."
Misty smiled at Christine, neither would she. She brought the tray back sitting it down on the table in front of Christine. She sat in her chair, waiting for Christine to finish saying grace. When Christine looked up, Misty was already dipping her spoon into her soup. They'd be forging a new friendship, she could just tell.
XXXX
It took a few minutes before Erik's eyes readjusted to the light. He began to walk around carefully looking behind the armoires, the large trunks standing on end, the discarded dressers.
Over in the corner under the eave, the last corner he'd yet to explore was a large pile of blankets. If nothing else, he could certainly make use of them to block the window on the way out of the house. It would be a shame for a drift of snow to ruin the items in the attic.
The more he moved about in the attic, the stranger it seemed to him. He could hear things, see things, it was like the room was occupied. He shook his head, it was his imagination, surely a result of being out in the snow and wind. He carefully made his way over to the blankets.
A razor sharp memory flashed through his mind and it was gone. He pictured a small cot, several blankets, and a small wooden box under the bed. A half-burned candle stick, and book on a tiny nightstand beside it. He felt an eerie shiver crawl up his spine. He'd suppressed so much about his life before the Opera House, and at some point in his life….fiction had become as real to him as anything, it had been his singular escape. He couldn't be certain what he was remembering….truth or tale, or if it was merely his creative mind at work.
He reached out, taking the first blanket off the mound. He heard it again, a low guttural moan. He dropped to his knees. There, under the large pile of blankets was the woman. Erik's eyes grew wide. He sat back on his haunches, heaving a great sigh from his lungs. He'd found her.
He took her hand into his. It was deathly cold, and limp. Erik reached down putting his hand along the side of her cheek, it too was cold, but the warmth of his hand made her head turn towards his palm. For a fraction of a second her eyes opened, and he saw the pleading in them. There was something about those pleading eyes…..they seemed so familiar, though he was certain in all his travels he'd never crossed this woman's path.
She gave a weak cough, trying to turn her head fully. "Rest woman." Erik said. He had to figure out a way to remove her from that room, return her to her daughter. Nadir could visit when he'd returned to Chauesser. Right now all Erik could think of was her survival, questions could come later.
He stood, looking around the room for something suitable. He rummaged through trunks, looking at an oversized drawer from the dresser, but that wasn't large enough. Finally Erik spied a discarded narrow door leaning up against the back wall. "Perfect. He untied the rope that he'd wrapped around his waist. Quickly lashing the rope throught the hole where the handle had been and tying it to a post. He'd use it as a sled once he had her on it. He'd use the rope that tied his snowshoes together to tie her to the door so she'd not fall.
Erik went over taking off layers of blankets, placing them on the door. When he'd reached the last two that remained covering her, she feebly reached out her hand, her eyes barely open. She was trying to speak.
Erik leaned his ear closely to her lips. He could barely hear her. "The books, you'll want the books." Erik thought her to be hallucinating, but she tugged at his shirt, pointing down beneath the blankets.
Erik lifted the edge of the blanket, and there, underneath, were two very well worn leather volumes. He lifted them into his hands, tucking them into the bag on his side. "I'll see to giving these to your daughter mum." Erik whispered as he reached down trying to lift her into his arms. "Wait.." she said. Erik thought he was hurting her, so he gently put her back down. "I must take you from here, you'll freeze, the storm is great outside, you need a warm bed and hot soup." He reached down putting his hand along her cheek, it was so very cold. He put both hands on her cheeks trying to warm them.
Inside, from somewhere, he felt compassion for this woman, no doubt it had been Christine's influence on him. Compassion was not in his nature, and it was strange beast…wrestling with guilt of a different kind. He knew how to handle…to suppress…the feelings for all he'd done in Persia…but this was so different…nearly as unsettling. How can one care for someone one barely knows? His mind was rushing.
"No, I must….I must tell you." She said her voice losing strength. Erik leaned down out of respect for this elder woman. "The boy is lost, I've waited here, but he's not come back." Erik thought she was hallucinating again.
"Dear woman, there is no boy, we must get you somewhere warm," he leaned in to lift her once more.
"No! The boy went out in the storm…I couldn't find him…no one believed me." Erik's heart sank…was there a small boy running about the city in this weather? Is that why she'd gone out? "What boy mum, where is he, did you follow him here?"
The woman did not respond. Time was of the essence. If there was a boy, he'd see to finding him. At this moment he needed to get her somewhere warm before she'd no chance of survival. He bent down scooping her up into his arms, blankets and all. He walked over trying to put her on the door as gently as he could. He pulled the blankets up around her, using the rope to lash her to the door. The door was narrow and would quite easily fit through the window. He'd have to come back to cover the window, his first concern was this woman.
As he bent down to begin lifting the door she started rambling. "We lived here…the boy…your boy…" Erik knew now she was hallucinating….he'd been with no woman other than Christine, he'd had no boy. His heart sank. She was indeed nothing more than disturbed. Perhaps all of his efforts, the coincidence of the name, had all been nothing. Either way he'd spared a family the pain of her loss, and that was a far greater thing that he'd done.
She shook her head, "take the books, they'll tell you of him," She smiled feebly at him. "Start with the red one. Give them to no one, only you will understand….promise me," she pleaded. Erik swallowed, his brow fixed and pained…. "I so swear." Erik said. Then she fell limp and silent.
Erik looked down, holding out his hand he could still feel her breath. She'd fallen asleep, or perhaps was beginning to succumb to the cold. He needed to hurry. Slipping the door through window, he wedged it into the snow so that it would not slip down the hill without him. He unlashed it from the post, tying the end about his waist, and slowly took up the slack with his hands. The woman weighed very little, but combined with the door, it would be a struggle. He took in a deep breath, put on his snow shoes, and put one foot at a time out into the snow. It was a distance, and he'd have to cover it quickly, the sun was fading, and so was the woman.
XXXX
"Thank you Madeline, that was entirely wonderful." Raoul said to her as she collected his dinner plate.
"Agreed," said Nadir nodding as Madeline took up his dinner plate as well. Madeline uttering the customary, "you most welcome."
DeChagny had eaten his portion with vigor, his bit of an earlier snack not slowing his consumption. The ladies of course, having eaten only half of what was served them, nodded as Madeline cleared their plates.
The group sat looking at one another as Madeline took the last of the plates. "I do hope this snow lets up tomorrow, I've much to tend to in Paris," Raoul's father said, drinking the last of the wine in his glass.
Nadir nodded, he too would hope that the snow would provide a reprieve. He needed to see to taking care of Sara. It had been far longer than was acceptable to keep her from the ground, and he was a bit ashamed though it was not his doing.
"Perhaps Raoul would be kind enough to allow us to take one of his sleighs into Paris once the snow subsides. I do so very much need to relieve his stable of its current unwanted occupant." Nadir said, looking between Raoul and his father.
"How true." Said DeChagny. Madame Giry and Meg were both looking down in their laps. Sara had been a good friend, a trusted companion those many months, and they'd no wish to dishonor her in this way. It seemed that the circumstances were unfavorable at every turn for this poor woman, even to finding her lasting rest in her final place.
Madeline came around the corner, nodding once more to Raoul. Everything was ready. "Come, please join me." Raoul stood, going to Meg to assist her from the chair. He extended his arm to her, which she politely accepted.
Nadir had temporarily turned his attention to Madeline, they were discussing something in earnest. DeChagny stood, quickly making his way over to Madame Giry, extending his arm to her. She looked up, blinking, lowering her head, she inhaled, but knowing no alternative she stood, smiling and accepted.
Nadir was just turning around having finished his conversation, to find DeChagny escorting Madame Giry into the hallway. He had a surprised scowl on his face, "what on earth…" he muttered under his breath. Walking out in the hall behind them. Nadir thought to himself, DeChagny could benefit himself from the company of a good woman….just not THIS woman.
XXXX
Christine had wandered down to the library after she and Misty had finished their dinner. She'd taken several sheets of paper from the supply in his stationary. She stood just looking around the room. The night before it had been filled with such happiness, such passion, such love. Now there was but a vapor of Erik's presence there.
She pulled his robe up more closely under her chin, rubbing the lapel along the side of her cheek. She was warm, full, and safe. She frowned slightly thinking of Erik moving about in that terrible storm. The doctor had warned him to keep his flesh covered once the weather turned cold again, she hoped he'd remembered his admonitions. The new skin that grew on his cheek was fragile, and he'd need to take care to protect it.
Christine sat down at the large desk. It had a drawer in the center, from which she withdrew an inkwell, and a writing instrument. Her mind quickly wandering back to the drawer that they'd found locked in the library. It was as if her mind could focus on no other spot in the entirety of the house that she had access to but that one locked drawer. Whatever could he want to hide there? From her? She shook her head. It did little good to spend time worrying over it, surely he'd explain when he returned.
XXXX
Once in the drawing room, the group found five chairs surrounding a smallish table in the center of the them. The room had been rearranged a bit to accommodate Nadir's request. At the center of the table was a large cut-crystal bowl of considerable size. It was one of Raoul's favorites for parties and gatherings…it had been his mother's. The group gathered around the bowl, staring at its contents as if it were a fire set out when one travels the countryside.
On the table just next, there was a tray with assorted cordials, as well as the 12 year old bottle of sherry-cask brandy that DeChagny had brought in from Paris the night before. DeChagny smiled, it was just what the doctor would have suggested had he been there himself! The dessert wasn't the cordials, nor was it present. Raoul had something entirely wonderful up his sleeve, and it was fitting for a night just like tonight!
As everyone took their places, DeChagny and Nadir choosing chairs on either side of Madame Giry. She was feeling a bit uncomfortable for the first time in days as the two men looked at one another. She'd not be in the middle of any sort of silly competition or game. Life was entirely complicated enough without this sort of distraction.
Raoul stood, smiling at the group. "Since we've no where to go this evening, and Madeline was kind enough to prepare this for us," he said sweeping his hand around the room, "I thought we'd have a try at it. We could play card games, or some other activity afterwards if we are still inclined, but I'd like to try this first if you'd indulge me."
He looked at them with a smile. Not one had any idea what they were about to embark on, though Raoul was certain they'd thoroughly enjoy it.
His father had risen from the chair and was serving cordials; he hated not being in control. He, made sure to offer Madame Giry a glass before anyone else, smiling as he passed Nadir to hand it to her.
Meg and Raoul glanced at each other, suddenly feeling like they were outside of an imaginary triangle looking in. Everyone having a glass in hand now, Raoul began to explain. "I shall go first, as an example." Raoul averted his eyes, giving Meg a wink as he turned his head, dipping his hand into the bowl retrieving a piece of the folded paper.
Meg's heart fluttered….Raoul was flirting with her!
Raoul unfolded it, looking down he read out loud. "What fruit is your favorite? Do explain." Raoul smiled, "My favorite I should say, is the cherry. It is a sweet dark fruit, it comes from a lovely blooming tree, and the fruit itself is beautiful, and not available in its peek form but a brief season each year. Also, it was my mother's favorite fruit." Raoul smiled, and sat down. "Now, Meg, what say you that you select the next piece of paper?"
She smiled at Raoul, dipping her hand into the bowl. She unfolded the paper, she nearly laughed. "Tell us about the first time you had chocolate and what kind. Who if anyone joined you." Meg hadn't thought about that in a very long time. "It was with my father. He'd taken me down to the chocolatiers just down from the park…it's not there anymore…it was just a tiny shop. We had a wonderful dark chocolate truffle…" She smiled. "We were there picking out a few for my mother, she hadn't been feeling well, and he wanted to bring her a treat… Do you remember that mother?"
Madame Giry raised her hand to her cheek, "yes dear, I do."
Next was DeChagny's turn. He was skeptical, but he'd not want to be viewed as a spoiled sport. He dug his hand deep into the bowl, swishing the contents about as if it were water and he was washing the bowl. He withdrew his hand, shaking it so that only one piece remained in his hand. Unfolding it he breathed a sigh of relief, it was not too personal. "What is your first memory of riding a horse, and what color was it?" He laughed. "I was four, my grandfather had an old mare, as gentle as you please, as steady as a fence post. He propped me up on her back in a saddle and led me about in the yard. I thought I was so grown up, in my fancy knickers and all." He smiled.
Madame Giry looked at him. "So, what color was it?"
He chuckled, "it was brown, a lovely brown." The group laughed.
Next was Madame Giry. She, being the ever proper and dainty woman, withdrew the first paper she touched as she put her hand in the bowl. Unfolding the paper, she blushed swallowing hard.
"Well, do go on," DeChagny said sipping from his glass.
She closed her eyes for a moment, gaining her composure. "When was the last time someone made you genuinely smile, and do share the circumstances." Nadir blushed, Madame Giry blushed. She could hardly speak. They both knew exactly where, exactly when, and exactly who, but for all the discretion in the world, she couldn't speak of it. She stammered, "I suppose just moments ago when Meg recalled the memory of she and her father at the chocolate shop." She said looking down.
Meg grinned at her, though that was a sweet memory, she could tell her mother had something else on her mind entirely.
Next was Nadir. He too swished the papers around in the bowl. They all had a grin on their face. Madeline was peeking in the door, smiling herself. She'd made up questions she thought they might enjoy, and so far it seemed to be going well. She would wait to bring in dessert until Nadir had taken his turn. She nodded to the other maid who went to the back door to retrieve it. The cold wind howled down the hall as she opened it, dislodging a rather large bucket from the drift just outside.
Nadir unfolded his paper, looking down he began to chuckle, it couldn't be possible. He rubbed his chin. "When last did you find yourself in an embarrassing situation, and do tell how you remedied it." Nadir cleared his throat. He too knew when, who, and where, but he'd not be sharing it. He was as red as a beet. "I suppose it was when I standing on the edge of the carriage when I arrived last night, and the wind howled behind me, causing my cape to fly up behind."
Meg looked at him, "Nadir, how is that embarrassing? I do not understand."
Nadir was back peddling, "well, you see my dear, the poor men and women looked at me as though I were a ghost, the various looks of horror crossing their faces…it wasn't until I'd stepped aside and talked to the carriage driver that I realized that he was just as frightened, and I said to him, "do keep a stiff upper lip young man!" He looked at me…indeed a poor choice of words considering a corpse was riding in the back of his carriage."
Nadir looked around, the group had fallen silent. "I found it to be embarrassing…"
Raoul looked at Nadir, this game was rapidly taking a turn for the worse. "I think he should draw another one, what say you?" "Here, here!" And Nadir found himself digging in the bowl again.
At that moment the drawing room doors opened, and in came Madeline, a tray of tall stems, a lovely vanilla ice cream in each dish, covered with a beautiful layer of brandied cherries. The woman behind her held out a flame to each one lighting it. The room just glowed. "Cherries jubilee!" She quickly sat one in front of each of them. Raoul, his father, and Nadir having had it before realized the liquor would quickly burn off. Madame Giry and Meg having not, tried to politely blow out the flame, which made the gentleman laugh. As Madeline left the room she realized she'd brought it in at exactly the right time. The flames were flickering out as she pulled the door closed. Perhaps she could see to dinner for herself now.
Author's Notes:
Dear Faithfuls: I do apologize for my unexpected absence yesterday…it could not be avoided. This chapter is a bit longer than most…perhaps you shall forgive me!
Captain Oblivious: My, my, yes you are obsessed my dear! I can tell that the "force" is strong with you! LOL. Self defense training is an arduous task, but oh so necessary this day and age! I'm starting on this myself next month, though I must say I'll be starting with strength training first…no use in learning maneuvers that I've not the strength to carry out…I could see it now…I attempt to defend myself only to have a would-be attacker fall to the ground in fits of laughter at the inefficacy of my tactics! I suppose either way they'd be disabled, but I'd not want to embarrass myself! Oh…how easily I am side-tracked!
Yes, that kind of love….I hope it finds me someday…I've been listening to Kelly Clarkson's CD…there is a song 'Hear Me'…pretty much describes how I feel about the whole thing right now….I'm ready…but he's not here…. sighs resignedly
Have a great weekend…try to get some rest…. I know dorms don't allow for much privacy…but a hot bath would be good for your aching muscles!
Phantomlover05: Yes, she is a worried little kitten isn't she? He promised he'd return to her….now it's a matter of time…. Have a great weekend!
Crayann: It is alright my dear…I have moments where I confuse people for someone else… "these things do happen" (to quote Firmin from POTO!) No doubt with so very many authors out there, it is hard to keep them all straight especially when we are all writing about the same thing! I am happy to hear that you are enjoying the story still…it has grown rather large hasn't it? Have a wonderful weekend!
Tex110: Yes, French…after all I am French so I ought to know the language…though I do not live in France! I am so looking forward to it…there is so much in French literature that I would love to read without translation….something is always missed when it is translated. It truly is the language of love! I too know a bit of German…some I learned from my grandmother when she was alive….I can count, tell someone please and thank you…and of course…I love you. For some odd reason, that is one of the first phrases I want to learn whenever I take up a new language….something about my fatally flawed personality I guess…..LOL! I do rather look forward to reading a few other fanfics about POTO when I am done writing this one…I'd love to see how other people feel about this subject matter! Oh and yes…poor Christine…she misses him so…but I have to say if he were my husband….I'd be missing him just as much….sigh….. Have a great weekend!
PhantomsRogue: I have a feeling I need to re-watch 'Moulin Rouge' and also perhaps the second disk, as I think perhaps there is more on there that would explain the characters. Now, I do have to admit it was 2:00 a.m. when I was watching the movie, so I could have easily missed some of the things I should have caught. I didn't catch the Chocolat person….alas. Madeline's language…I think you might find it is duly altered once again with this chapter….something I shall have to fix in the previous chapters when I go back through to do revisions! Have a wonderful weekend….
PhantomFan13: Colds are no fun…they give us that achy, nagging feeling… When I have one all I want to do is to crawl into bed with a good book and a bowl of soup…actually, truth be told…I like that scenario even when I'm feeling perfectly well! LOL! Yes, Erik will have an encounter with the old woman…I can say no more though just yet!
Titanic…it is a haunting story isn't it? I recall seeing it in the theater multiple times. It stayed in the theater in our town for two months, and had large crowds right until the last night it played! It loses something having to watch it on the small screen, but it is still very poignant! And yes…it is some of Celine Dion's best work to date! The graveyard…that would be very interesting, though very sad to visit. I can recall visiting the memorial at Pearl Harbor in Hawaii when I was there. We actually walked out on a catwalk of sorts that was right over the ship just feet below the surface…it was so very eerie to know that there were people actually entombed there…I think death in any sea-going vessel is especially sad…there is something so formidable about the ocean…it is so very unforgiving!
Enough on the morose…. Have a great weekend!