The winds howled fiercely as a fresh wave of snow began to fall. The men had pushed the sled over the largest drifts as the dogs had struggled and failed. They were tired, they were all tired. Their snow shoes had proven to be of limited use as what now fell was a miniscule layer over the glassy sloping crusts that had formed on the drifts. They'd taken picks and shovels to push through the ice as anchors just to stay afoot.
"There, up there, I see something!" One of them shouted. They'd been trying to follow the path that Nicole's mother had suggested to the innkeeper that they would travel. The first man pushed up the hill with two picks as anchors. He struggled, but finally reached the top. Looking down he saw a large mass of black fabric blowing in the wind. There were arms and legs sticking out in various directions and positions.
"Lord, they've frozen to death!" The one man shrieked as he pulled the first cloak from the heap of flesh. The remaining four men, finally reaching the first. They stood in a circle surrounding them. Looking down they shook their heads. The first they'd uncovered was Nicole. Her face was caked with hair frozen to her cheek, a layer of snow covering her exposed cheek. The largest of the men pushed through the others.
"Let's be having them then. We shan't be leaving them here. We'll be taking them back to the tavern either way, let's put them on the sled before the storm swells.
They carefully lifted Nicole from the top. She moaned. "This one's alive!" The sled driver, who'd turned his back so as not to bear witness to the carnage, turned abruptly. He was relieved to see who they put in the sled first. His daughter would be entirely relieved.
He quickly covered her with a horse blanket. Next they pried Nicole's mother from the old woman's side. She was cold but she too moaned when they forced at her limbs. The flesh on her inner cheek, the one that had been lying on the old woman's chest was warm to the touch. They loaded her onto the sled next to Nicole. Next, two men carefully removed the old woman from Erik's arms. He'd held her so tightly but now his arms gave way at their bidding. She they nestled in between the two other women on the sled.
The one man said, "they probably saved her life, putting her in the middle of them like they did." Lastly the four men went to retrieve Erik. He was a large man, strong, and sturdy. They turned him over on his side. "Good Lord the man's covered in blood, but where's it coming from?"
The one man backed away a bit, the larger two men stepped up and heaved Erik onto the third man's shoulders. "It matters little where the blood is coming from now, if we don't be getting them somewhere warm. I'd say he faired the worst, his back was buried in the ice and snow. His pulse is faint, but he has breath."
The sled driver breathed a sigh of relief. He'd felt responsible for bringing the man away from his wife and household. Yes, it had been at the man's bidding that he'd taken him with, but he felt responsible still. That in fact is why he'd found himself in Chauesser again after the snow subsided from the first wave. He'd wanted to take the man back to his house, to the young woman who bid him farewell that very morning. It had been one of the most pitiful sights he'd seen in a long while. His heart broke for her as they'd pulled away from that house.
Before long they had all four of them loaded on the sled. The trip back would be much swifter, a track and path they'd created would make traversing the hills much less arduous. "Mush!" The man called out to his dogs, the sled lurched forward. Now they'd have a foothold in the drifts.
XXXXXXX
Back at the tavern they'd prepared three makeshift beds in front of the large hearth at the front of the dining room. They'd no real hope that they would find the old woman, they only hoped they'd found the three of them and with any fortune would return them safely there.
The innkeeper was busying his staff. "Basin's of hot water, some warm soup, a change of clothing, I don't care what it is, just warm and dry."
The young man walked next to him nodding, "and some bandages, and pillows too." The innkeeper nodded.
"I'm thankful to find you here tonight sir. I'd say your grandfather would be proud of you just now."
"Stop with your flattery sir. I've done nothing worthy of praise." He looked at him with all the seriousness a man of twenty odd years could. He was just a year out of medical school. He'd traveled to Chauesser to honor a wish that his grandfather had requested of him when he'd provided the funds to go to college. It was mere chance, as far as he was concerned that he'd found himself there in the first place.
"Sir, if they've been out in this weather for as long as you say, there may be little hope of saving them, and if we are blessed, they won't lose limbs over it." He looked down at his boots, a brief look of sadness overtook his face, he blinked, his face returning to its stoic gaze, he looked back up at the innkeeper. "My first year in medical school we'd no short supply of amputations due to cold exposure." He looked around, and then leaned in closer so as not to have anyone else hear. "You do have, do you not a hand saw …one you'd use for trimming trees and shrubbery?"
The innkeeper looked at him with a level of horror that could not be concealed. "Surely you jest doctor!"
The doctor looked down shaking his head side to side. "I'd not jest about that sir, I can assure you it is not a matter for even the most morose of humors."
The innkeeper looked ashen. "Do have someone fetch it for you, but keep it concealed in a blanket. Let us pray that it isn't needed. We shan't want to frighten anyone."
The innkeeper nodded, unable to utter his response. He walked resolutely over to one of the young men in his employ, whispering in his ear. The young man glanced at the doctor…he looked as if he'd be ill.
"And a bottle of, no two bottles of vodka if you have it." The doctor called out to the young man. He simply turned and walked away.
The innkeeper returned to the doctor's side. "It shall be done." The doctor nodded. "Then all we've to do now is wait." The innkeeper nodded.
"Come, let us sit, have some coffee, I dare say this may very well be a rather long night." as the two men walked over to the bench by the fire, the innkeeper said, "you won't be minding if I'd make mine a brandy now would you?"
The doctor chuckled a little. "I should say not, perhaps I'll join you myself later." The men sat on the bench. They'd wait for their arrival. Successful or no, they'd be back soon enough.
XXXX
Raoul had bid Nadir and his father goodnight, escorting Madame Giry and Meg up to their rooms. He'd taken Madame Giry to her room first, leaning over he kissed both of her cheeks. "Bonne nuit Madame Giry, do sleep well." Madame Giry smiled at him, "and a good evening to you as well Raoul." He smiled in return. "I shan't want for any to rise early, but please do alert Madeline if you should and would like company."
She leaned over embracing Meg. "Sleep well my dear." She entered her room and closed the door behind her. As she walked over to the lamp to turn it up, she noticed an ivory envelope sitting next to it. She smiled. She'd not seen it many times, but she knew in an instant to whom the handwriting belonged. She lifted the envelope into her hands caressing it. She set it back down. She'd ready herself for bed, and retire there to read it before she'd delve into the book Erik had given her.
Funny, she'd had more time at her disposal these last days than she'd had in many years, and yet she'd done little in terms of being productive, and her reading had been shamefully neglected. Perhaps this was what living life on the other side was like. She'd never imagined what the life of an aristocrat was like to live. She'd merely accepted them as a different class of people to whom she owed her livelihood. It was their patronage of the Opera Populaire that had allowed her to explore and embrace her art…her life's work, and had provided a shelter for she and Meg after her family was altered by her husband's untimely death. It was not nearly so dull as she'd imagined, but was just as tiring as if she'd spent the day instructing at the Opera House.
Her mind wandered to the Opera House for but a few fleeting seconds. She longed to take Meg there. To show her the beautiful quarters where they'd be… she closed her eyes. It was entirely possible that neither of them would occupy that space now…The next two months would be telling of what the remainder of their lives would hold.
In her distraction she'd managed to undress and was slipping on her nightdress and robe. She walked to the vanity sitting down once more, as she'd done thousands of times before to brush out her hair, counting each stroke silently. She'd lost count several times, being far too eager to read the note to finish the activity. Unlike the chorus girls she'd call to task for cutting short a planned repetition, she'd stopped after only half the strokes.
She rose, retrieving the envelope and crawled beneath the covers of her bed, the book laid open next to her. The hurricane lamp turned up just slightly for reading. She slid the envelope between her hands before running her thumb under the seal to release its contents. A singular ivory card, with the petal of a yellow rose attached slid into her hands. She smiled.
My Dearest Antoinette,
I'm certain this note will find you in the same state of mind that I've found myself in even now as I pen this note. It is with great humility that I share my thoughts with you. For indeed we've known each other for some months now, and much longer we've been allied through our mutual friend. It shan't be a wonder to anyone that our feelings would tend toward the serious in any regard, though I dare say they surprised us the most.
It has been a long many years since I've thought of a woman as anything but another man's wife, or another man's keep, and I fear that it has been the same for you in the opposite regard. We've both much to consider, and far more to weigh in the privacy of our own minds. Come what may, I shall always want for you to know of my deepest regard for you, and that I shall always hold you in my fondest affections.
It is a most cruel thing that I am now compelled to ask of you, but I've recently been encouraged by said mutual friend, to seek happiness wherever it might find me, and I'm to convey his wish for you is the same. I pray only that you'll consider it Antoinette, and consider it carefully. It shall be a long while before I shall mention it again as we've much that requires our immediate attention. It is not until we've time to think of ourselves, to have opportunity to render to our feelings their proper due, that we could truly consider the costs.
I've no doubt that this shall find you either entirely relieved and in agreement, or in utter despair. No matter which course your feelings now take, I pray only that you can both forgive and understand my boldness. The value of the virtue of patience has rather become me these last years, so alas, I've become a patient man. In due time, all will be settled, but until then, we shall remain, as we've always been, the dearest of friends…though my heart shall no doubt be in want for you forever.
I shall look forward to your reply, my dear sweet Antoinette. No matter what is chosen, I shall remember with great fondness the precious moments we've spent in one another's company.
Nadir
Tears streaked down Madame Giry's face. She'd expected something different entirely. Truly these words broke at the very fragile edges of her heart. She understood, even agreed as he thought she might. Perhaps he knew it was a far less cruel thing they did to deny themselves than to be tortured at every turn because of their own selfishness.
She wiped the tears from her cheek. She'd pen a reply…she couldn't bear to face him just now. Somehow the blow was softened when you couldn't emblazon the voice in one's brain, a note was a more suitable avenue, one that can be revisited when needed. Yes….she'd pen her reply….but tomorrow. Tonight she'd care for nothing more than sleep. Deep, releasing, healing, sleep.
She turned down the lamp, pulling her covers up under her chin. In the darkness she began to weep silently. Happiness was not to be hers in this lifetime perhaps, for it seemed to be prematurely snatched from her before she'd even been able to embrace it.
XXXX
Raoul escorted Meg to her room, accompanying her inside. Madeline had tended to the fire, it had been sufficient stoked to last for what Raoul thought would be hours. Meg smiled at Raoul as she made her way to the vanity. She'd become rather comfortable with him in her quarters. She had to admit, waking up and finding herself in his arms was entirely wonderful. Even the pangs of guilt had begun to subside; surprising her immeasurably.
As she sat at the vanity, she removed the fixtures that had bound her hair. She glanced in the mirror at her own reflection. The stitches on her cheek were healing well, the line of the scar no doubt would be faint. The swelling had subsided, and the redness was fleeting. In the background she could see Raoul's face alit by the glow of the fire. He had turned himself round so that he could watch her. She felt suddenly a bit shy. They were becoming closer, and even the mundane things such as this, would be a part of their lives if they were to be.
She began to run the brush through her hair, counting each stroke. Raoul sat silently watching. The light from the lamp on the vanity filtering through Meg's hair with each stroke, making it appear as strands of spun gold, layered with amber shades of the finest honey.
She sat so gracefully he thought; as poised as a prima ballerina would be. He knew in his heart that though she'd gladly abandon that life for one with him, for she'd told him as much, he'd no want to deprive her of that joy….she'd trained all of her life for it, indeed it was in her very blood. He smiled, slowly rising…
"You love it don't you Meg?" He slowly made his way, step by deliberate step, over to her.
She was counting "forty-nine, fifty, fifty-one," She smiled shyly, continuing to move the brush methodically through her hair, "love what Raoul?"
He paused every few steps, taking her in from every angle. "The dance…"
Meg smiled, "sixty, sixty-one, sixty-two…the dance?"
Raoul paused again, he had moved into the shadows, just beyond Meg's view. "Yes, the joy of the movement, the satisfaction of mastering it, delighting an audience, pleasing your mother."
Meg smiled, glancing down, "eighty-three, eighty-four…" She didn't know what had brought on this conversation.
"I can see it in your eyes, I could hear it in your voice when you spoke of it this evening…the questions…when you'd answered the questions…"
Meg's face took on a sorrowful expression. Her hands now resting idly in her lap. "It's all I've known Raoul, all my life, I've been mastering it since I could walk I suppose, to me it as natural as breathing….but why do you speak of this now?" She was truly perplexed.
Raoul's heart had started to move faster than his mind had intended. His thoughts were of making her his, and he knew that this required so much more of her than what he knew she might be able to give. He simply needed to know if he could even ask that much of her.
"This night when I'd mentioned, brought up I suppose, the idea of marriage." He paused, Meg had set the brush down on the vanity, she was looking down at her lap. "Meg, so much has passed between us these last days…these last months…we've known of our feelings for one another, but we've denied them…" He paused again.
Meg could feel her lip begin to tremble. This truly had been a telling night. The questions in that bowl had provided much insight into the lives of every one that sat in that room. It was a seemingly innocent game….the affects of which were not, if truth be told, felt until hours afterwards…much like a drug of trickery…seemingly harmless…ultimately telling.
Meg replied without hesitation, "Raoul….one cannot make a choice to embrace one thing without making a choice to abandon another when they both require the same part of you….ballet, the dance as you called it, has been my life…all consuming."
She swallowed hard, closing her eyes as her chest rose and fell…it was the truth…the pure truth she spoke to him in these moments and it genuineness of it filled her with such relief. "If I am to embrace this new life….this life with you….I must choose…I know I must. If I am to speak from my heart, I would not be truthful if I told you I would not miss it…not long for it from time to time…but would I trade it…the temporary….for a life of happiness?" She looked down, inhaling, and then turned around to face him.
He stood in the shadows, tears streaming down his face. Swirling through his mind were the words of his father's bitter confession the first night his father had joined him in this house. The confession of his mother's melancholy after abandoning all she held dear to be with him…he'd no want to subject Meg to a similar if however different fate…he'd seen first hand what it had done to his own mother.
She rose, walking to him, reaching out for his hands, taking them into hers. She looked around the room, then back into his eyes. "Would one choose the flame of the lamp that sits here, a wick with a bit of kerosene, that will surely run out? The flame it is beautiful and comforting, but it is only temporary."
She led Raoul over to the fireplace, sitting down with him on the divan. "Or, would one choose the glowing embers of a finely stoked fire whose warmth will comfort you, its intensity consume you for a lifetime. One is small and will last but a short while. The other is intense, all encompassing, and if properly tended will endure."
Raoul looked at her. A hopeful gaze in his eye. "Meg, I.."
"Shhhh Raoul." She brought her finger to his lips. "I do not know what our life shall be like, what wonders await us…but I know that I am willing to abandon my past to look forward to a future that is as full and bright as the flame that even now warms our flesh. If it is to mean that I shan't be able to return to the Opera House with my mother when the time comes….than it shall be so."
Raoul's eyes filled with tears, his lips trembled. He took her hands into his, sliding a bit closer. "Meg, I've given this much thought…when that time does come…we will have to think most seriously of our status…our arrangements…" He swallowed, glancing into the fire. He raised his eyebrow. "There are some who would say it to be most improper to have us under the same roof….unmarried, without your mother here as chaperone." He glanced up at Meg.
Her eyes had grown wide. She'd thought he was referring to an engagement…but this…no this…he was quite serious…this was more than an engagement he was suggesting. "Raoul, I …"
He was shaking his head. "It is something that we need not answer tonight….I simply needed some assurance that you were feeling as I did, that you'd be willing to…" He stopped, closing his eyes, he shook his head. "No…there is no reason…no…I simply cannot see why you shan't be able to do both Meg, if that's what you wish."
She cocked her head to the side. He turned to face her fully. "What if you were to return with your mother there, and then stay here with her when you've time for a rest away from the city?"
She blinked, she was confused….hadn't he just been suggesting marriage? "Raoul, I do not understand…."
He shook his head, putting his hands on her forearms, looking into her eyes with a hopeful glance. "Meg…my dearest Meg….I do not wish to rush you, I do not wish to push you away…I am but trying to consider how we can remain together until you've enough time to decide…to be certain. Right now, in this place, these circumstances …they all surround you, perhaps clouding…influencing your decision. I want, as I am certain you do, for you to be certain." Raoul wondered how long this doubt would linger in his mind…would Meg ever be able to truly love him…truly believe it is she that he loved and not Christine?
Meg's mind was reeling. Was he now not certain himself? Perhaps she could take this opportunity to visit Christine, to travel back there for a time, however briefly…to say her goodbyes…to be certain that Christine would forgive her…to thank Erik properly, to talk to him….
Meg looked up at Raoul. "I understand Raoul…perhaps when the time nears for my mother to return to the Opera House, I shall go to visit Elizabeth and Stephan…perhaps for a short season. If ever there were a place where I could be away from all the influences, as you say, that would be the place. They are the oldest and most trusted souls that I know…if anyone could help me to sort out my feelings they would."
She looked at Raoul…perhaps he too needed a break to be certain…to make certain in his own mind that he could do this, that they would be able to this. She looked into his eyes, and there in them was a look of such relief.
"My dearest Raoul, I've no doubt that I shall want to return to you, but there is much wisdom in what you suggest. We should be certain."
He smiled gathering Meg into his arms, burying his head into the crook of her neck. "Meg, if you decide to return, it will be then that I shall have something of particular importance waiting for you. I know a proper length of engagement is months, but I should like to think we might alter that somewhat if we are ready then."
Meg smiled at him….he was speaking of marriage…he was being ever the gentleman…providing her a way out if she so desired. Meg leaned into his arms, as he pulled her into a warm embrace. They sat staring into the glowing embers.
Raoul pulled the blanket down from the divan, slipping it over Meg's body. He placed an affectionate kiss on her forehead and began running his fingers through her hair. A new sort of comfort had settled between them. The pressure of what was expected to be, was released. Everything about how their lives would proceed from this point forward was in their hands…no expectations…simply time and choice to be together… They could learn to enjoy one another's company in a new way…this time with the thought of what might be, but knowing full well, they ultimately still had a choice.
XXXX
Christine had made her way down to the first level of the house. She couldn't sleep, though she knew she should, one could not will one's body do what it would not.
She'd wandered the hall from library to parlor to study, and back again. She'd been quite, and so far as she could tell she'd not disturbed anyone. She'd gone to the kitchen and made another cup of tea. As she sunk the tea ball into the cup, it began to hiss as the leaves swelled from the heat of the water. She leaned her head over inhaling the peppermint. It reminded her of the candies that her father used to bring home for her after he'd been out late into the evening at a performance. She was to have been in bed sleeping, but somehow she'd always managed to fool her governess into thinking she was sleeping and then she would sit in the window to her room and watch the road until she saw him come home.
He would slip into her room with a peppermint in his pocket for her. He'd croon about his little girl and pull her into his lap and sing her a lullaby…and she'd be off to sleep. Oh how she loved being in his arms…she felt safe there, like nothing in the world could hurt her as long as he was there.
She smiled at the irony. In his final hours on this earth, her father had lovingly promised her an angel, and in truth though he'd turned out to be a man….a wonderful man, he had been as her father had promised…a guide, a guardian. Now she longed for his arms to hold her just as she'd longed for her father's arms when she was young.
The pain in her side had subsided, to which she was much relieved. Now save the sleep she was missing, she felt the best she had in hours. Though she worried, she tried to think only the best of thoughts…he would return…he would be well…spring would return. She was ready to raise a silent prayer asking for that very thing when she heard the grandfather clock strike two…she smiled…
Her father used to tell her when he'd be gone for a long while and he knew it would be late when he would return, he would say, "don't be blue, before the clock strikes two, I'll be home to you." She shook her head, something in that simple statement had always brought her comfort, and on a night such as this one, every little comfort helped alleviate her worry.
She found herself once again leaning against the arch in the window seat in the library, tucked neatly beneath a blanket. The room was warm and comforting, and if she squinted her eyes, she could pretend to see his shape at the piano playing for her just as he had the night before….oh how she loved him…oh how she longed for him….oh how she'd trusted him. She was letting him be the man he was born to be, for to allow for anything less would be to cheat him of the life he was born to live…and he'd already been deprived of so very much.
Author's Notes:
Dear Faithfuls: As it turns out, I will be gone on Monday and Tuesday as I'd feared. I won't have any connections to my beloved computer these next four days, but I hope to have a few moments to pen something and later translate it to my computer! Thank you for tolerating the 'blips' in my writing that happen from time to time. Alas, real life can be very demanding!
Phantomsrogue: Alas, there is so much more to happen to these dear, dear, creatures. It had never been my intention for the story to move in slow motion, as it has at times, but I don't want to miss anything, a feeling, a moment….I am a bit obsessed with capturing the feelings of these dear souls, for I've come to love them dearly!
It is with much humor that I read your review. When we begin being distracted from everything else that is "real" in our lives, we know we've become truly obsessed. I must confess THIS story and the idea of the other has truly consumed much of my waking mind. I now, at times, must force myself to concentrate on work…something I've never done in my entire life…I've been a serious one for the lion's share of my life…but now my mind wanders so frequently to this "other world" of fantasy and fiction, that it has become "real" to me. Does this sound as confused as I think it does? LOL! I do buckle down and do my work, my job demands it, but that doesn't mean I am not distracted at times!
Oh, and do not, I repeat do not doubt the name of the story…I rather like it…. 'The Darker Side of Paris', hmmmm…what a fitting title that would be. Wouldn't you pick up a book and at least read the back cover if you saw it? I know I would… I am getting more excited at the prospect every day. Yes, I agree that Lestat and Erik would have to encounter one another on several occasions, perhaps even watch one another from a distance, trying to size one another up, but never being able to truly do so…sort of a dance….I once heard Andrew Lloyd Webber describe the Phantom as the right side of danger…I think that is fitting. Lestat, well, he is the embodiment of danger…of all things nefarious…The Phantom…he still has his soul, though damaged it may be. Yes, we should start brainstorming a bit…
Yes, work does require me to be diligent and go where I am bid to go…I do like my work, but it can be a bit trying at times! Though my computer will stay at home, my old fashioned notebook shall travel with me… Have a great weekend…and do keep the cogs of that brain of yours moving to 'The Darker Side of Paris'…oooooo, I do like the sounds of that!
Christineluvserik: A warm group hug is just what Erik needs right now…and I think I just heard an amen from all of the other members of our Phamily out there! LOL! Yes, he has been through so very much, so very much…and has so much to look forward to. Can you imagine how he will feel to get back home and pull Christine into his arms! Oh it gives me goosebumps, and since there is no one else here to hug, I'll hug myself! Yes, yet another reinforcement as to the fragility of my mind!
Assignments are a wonderful thing, though sometimes demanding. I must confess that I do miss our Phamily terribly when I am away. sighs mournfully Have a great weekend…and yes, my little "fund" is growing!
Hopelesslyobsessed: Welcome back my dear! It is good to hear from you! Yes, I have sensed that now nearly everyone is concerned with what is in that drawer in Erik's desk…oh how easily Christine drew us in to her obsession! LOL! And I do not remember saying that the blood was Erik's or that it was his wound….hmmmm…but one never really knows do they! The water on the desk my dear….a bit of good old-fashioned foreshadowing… one of the oldest writer's tricks on the book!
Thank you for the compliment on the story. I continue to be humbled by the kind words from our Phamily members…it truly keeps me going!
Batteredchild: The angst has gone on for a bit hasn't it? I can only imagine how desperate I would have felt in that situation. They'd no way to communicate with one another. No snowmobiles, no cell phones, no satellites to track them….we are a spoiled lot now aren't we? All they could do then was to sit back and wait for the inevitable to happen. Yes, the men should have gone out long before to help those women…but it was just as true back then as it is now…hence Erik's statement… "all it takes for evil to triumph in this world is for good men to do nothing." How many times do people sit back and wait until it is too late for their help to be of any use? I know I see it every day…I cannot explain what I do for a living…but I can tell you that I see this happen every day in my work…every day…perhaps that is why it is so poignant for me to make a point of it in this story….hmmm….I am getting a bit too philosophical now aren't I?
Have a great weekend, wherever this story finds you!
Phantomfan13: I am happy that you and your family are alright. Tree limbs and what not can be collected and discarded. People cannot be replaced! You'll find this quite strange but I rather enjoy storms, their power, their majesty! Even when the power doesn't go out, I light candles and sit in my library and watch it through the large window that leads out into my back yard. Something about it is so mysterious, so awe inspiring don't you think? Though I've had my share of close calls with storms…I didn't say I was smart about it…I'd rather watch than take shelter…and that can be a bit foolish at times!
Thank you for your kind words in regard to this last chapter. It made perfect sense in my mind as I penned it, but I worried that it would be a difficult read, as he transitioned in and out of the present and the past. I am happy that you could follow along on my ramblings! I must confess that while I've heard excerpts of Kay's novel, I've not read it. First access to it has been a problem, and second because I do not want to borrow too much of her story, lest I be cannibalistic in a literary sense. I want to stay true to our little version without too much influence from other story lines. As to Erik's age, yes I imagine him to be in his early thirties…too much older, I agree, would make it a bit weird for us. However, back then, it was not at all uncommon for older men to marry MUCH younger women….I know….the idea is a bit foreign to us in this day and age, but security was so much an issue for them then, that if a man had money, and a young woman's family needed it, she often was the "bargaining chip" her family used to acquire a bit of security. This happened more often than what I would have liked. Perhaps that is why there was a large women's movement not long after this…in fact…if you know a bit of Parisian history…you might know of the Commune which was gaining strength during 1870, and they very much preyed on that very issue…empowering women. Well, enough on the history lesson…sorry, I get a bit carried away!
Erik's stitches are intact, and he wants me to tell you thank you for worrying about him! LOL! Raoul didn't exactly propose…you know how sometimes you say things you are feeling, but didn't really mean to say them? That's sort of what happened to Raoul…what I affectionately call a "Freudian slip"!
Have a wonderful weekend, and maybe a good old-fashioned campfire is in your near future with all those branches? I know I have a fire pit in my back yard that is full of branches I've collected over the last few weeks. It beckons me….and I intend to enjoy a good fire this weekend myself!
WriterMuseoftheNight: My, my, there are many kindred spirits out there in our Phamily! Yes, our beloved Erik must grant us his permission before we release any details that he shares with us! LOL Yes, it would be nice if we could send the little group of them a care package now wouldn't it? Yes, the consequences of being out in the cold…no doubt unless we live south of the equator, we've all been out in the cold weather for an extended period and know all too well what our skin, our lungs, our limbs, feel like for a long while after we've come indoors. In Erik's case, he's a special sensitivity to it for so many reasons. He'll come to respect his life on the surface of the earth in a different way than he has before…. Have a wonderful weekend!
Oh, recommended reading….I could write you a list, a very long list…it depends on what you like. If you're wanting something older, and haven't yet read it, 'Great Expectations' written by Dickens is wonderful. If you are looking for something a bit more modern…I'd recommend the book I going to start when I travel out of town next week… 'The Historian'. Now if you are not a fan of Dracula, go for something else, perhaps. I tend to lean toward historical fiction myself, so my recommendations are a bit slanted! Then there are several classics that are coming to the big screen, 'Oliver Twist', and 'Pride and Prejudice'. If you want to enjoy the movies for their full embodiment, I'd recommend reading either of those as well! I myself have on my reading list the works of Burns, the Scottish poet, as alas, I am a Gerard Butler fan, and I want to understand the poet's heart so I can appreciate the movie when it comes out next spring!
Phantomlover05: Hmmmm…I'm not quite certain how to respond to that. Without revealing too much about myself. SOME men, do like seeing their women in their clothes…but yes, I agree, there are some that don't understand it at all. There is nothing quite like slipping on a night shirt, a suit shirt, a robe, a sweatshirt that belongs to them…. ahhh…sighs dreamily Have a wonderful weekend!
Tex110: I am so pleased, no really…terribly pleased to hear you say that. If I can make it feel "real" then I have done what I've intended! I so hoped that I could do this for the reader, as that is what happens in my mind and I always worry that it doesn't translate to the written words! Thank you for the compliment on the chapters. The last one with Erik's internal monologue, was nearly a spiritual experience for me. I could feel the cold air, the rush as memories flooded over him, how his emotions took control, the rigid stance of his body as he stood facing the sleet and snow….oh I've just lost myself in the moment again! Anyway….have a wonderful weekend, and I hope that if you've any friends of family back in Texas, that they've survived the storms down there! I know we all worry for them!