Erik returned to Christine. He was fully dressed in white shirt, black trousers, and the black velveteen smoking jacket the woman had made for him. He held in his hands a tray with smoked salmon, potted cheeses, crusted bread, and a pot of tea. On the tray were some curious chocolates Christine had never seen before. She was fixated on them as Erik sat the tray down on the table in front of the divan. In part because she was naturally drawn to sweets as of late, and in part because of the cut lead crystal dish in which they were so beautifully presented. It had glinted in the light of the fire when first he entered the room.
Erik smiled at Christine, noticing where her eyes had rested. "I see something has drawn your interest my dear! Here, you must try one. Life is so very short, perhaps a bit of dessert before the sustenance is wise." He smiled as he lifted one of the delicate flower shaped chocolates, taking it to the anticipation of Christine's lips. Pleasing her had become a chief joy in his life.
She quite nearly had it in her mouth when Erik pulled it away playfully placing a kiss on her lips instead. She pouted a bit, but quickly recovered, teasing, "it is true your kisses are sweeter than honey my love, but one cannot live with honey alone!" She laughed as she watched with what glee he tormented her until finally he gave in.
He brought it close to her, she opening her lips. "No Christine, close your eyes, take in the fragrance. What do you sense?"
She closed her eyes and her mouth, focusing only on what her nose beheld as she slowly inhaled and the exhaled. She'd done so several times before she replied, "is that violet?"
Erik grinned; indeed she was as sensitive to it as he. Christine did not open her eyes, but continued the process several more times before she replied, "I smell the cocoa, and can nearly taste the sweetness of the cream and sugar on my tongue, but that hint, I'm most certain, yes, most certain it is violet." She opened her eyes to see Erik smiling at her, touching the candy to her lips, sliding it in on her tongue.
He took one for himself; they could enjoy the partaking of this together. It was a pleasure to the palate. Both sweet and fragrant. Truly a heady gratification.
"Wherever does she find them?" Christine asked, realizing they'd not have come from the basket that Misty had packed for them.
"The woman is kind enough to keep them here for me. It is the only place in all of the places I've been that has them. A tiny chocolate shop near one of the merchants she frequents. One day the woman from the shop had come over when she was purchasing fabrics. She'd intended to thank the woman with a box of chocolates for a garment she'd made for the woman's daughter. She'd of course taken it rather graciously, never mind the fact she'd never grown a taste for chocolate! She much prefers the sweetness of berries and the like. As it happened, it was a time I'd come to pay her a visit."
Erik was searching his mind, "I believe it was when I was painting in the parlor, the rather drab gray walls needed a bit of cheering as I recall. She'd come home with a number of things, handing me the box saying if I'd like chocolates that I was welcome to them. Well, as it so happened, I'd grown rather fond of chocolate having spent many Sundays with Antoinette when we were younger, eating the chocolate potted pudding she would bring me that had been the treat for Sunday dinner in the dormitories."
Erik smiled, it had been the second time that day that he'd thought of the many occasions he and Antoinette had shared special treats together on Sundays. It was the only day she was able to bring entire hot meals to him in the cellars without being noticed. The remainder of the days she'd s managed whatever she could to bring for him to eat. But Sundays, yes, they were different indeed.
"When she'd abandoned the box on the table I'd looked at it with interest. Surely something that had come in such an embellished container must be something special…and I was right. I've never found anything quite like it. How precisely it is done I do not know, nor do I care to know, for that would likely spoil my enjoyment of it!"
Christine laughed as she smoothed the last of it over her tongue. "Pray do tell this is not the same box!"
Erik smiled at her, "no, but ever since she took notice that I'd nearly emptied the container in one afternoon, she's managed to keep a box. How it is mysteriously refilled each time I return, she's not shared with me!" Erik poured each of them a cup of hot tea.
A silence fell once more between them as they sat sipping their tea. Erik sat his cup down, having half consumed it. He looked Christine in the eye, taking her cup from her sitting it on the tray. He turned to look into her eyes, taking her hands up into his. He inhaled closing his eyes, and exhaled. He inhaled, slowly opening his eyes to the welcoming of Christine's smile. The intensity in his eyes was only paralleled by the compassion and sincerity that Christine saw in his eyes. "Are you ready Christine?"
She nodded. She'd listen intently and only ask questions when she must. It was obvious to her that it had taken him great courage to broach the subject…she'd not be making him wish he'd never mentioned it.
He squeezed her hands as he began. "The blood you discovered on me when I'd returned from Chauesser….it was the very reason my return to you had been delayed." He paused, looking deeply into Christine's eyes. It pained him to watch as the fear grew in those innocent pools. He knew she knew nothing of his past, and could only imagine what she might be thinking even now. The truth was, that she would never be able to imagine what tragedy had fallen from his own hands throughout his life, and even the worst she could conjure up would pale in comparison to the truth she would never know.
"The old woman, the one who had pursued us that night we dined in Chauesser…." He sighed, looking down at their intertwined hands. Christine was running her thumbs reassuringly along the back of his hand.
"The man that had come on the sled shared with me the reason for his travels to the winter house. The old woman, you remember her?"
Christine nodded, her steady compassionate gaze encouraging him to go on.
"I'd returned to the City to help find her. She'd gone out, been lost during the worst of the storm. He'd traveled the distance from the City to be certain she'd not ventured to find us." Erik's eyebrows raised. He'd never been able to find what it was that had fascinated her so about him. Now he would never know.
"Indeed I did find her, but alas it was of no use. She lived but a few hours more. Barely clinging to life for but a brief time. Long enough to speak to her daughter, to her granddaughter. You do remember the young woman, she is the one whose acquaintance we'd made. You recall Nicole do you not?"
Christine simply nodded, "yes" though she wondered why he would ask such questions. How would she forget when there had been numerous encounters? She stayed silent; she'd not interrupt.
"You see my dear, there are so many things that happened in that City that made it both difficult to leave, and difficult to stay." He looked down from her gaze for a brief second before his eyes returned to hers. "Though my actions were selfish to be sure, they mistakenly believe me to be a hero for finding her, bringing her back to her family." Erik cringed, he'd still no use for that word hero; least of all applied to his own reference. "It is not true, a hero I am not. I did only what any decent man ought."
Christine wanted desperately to tell Erik he was nothing like most ordinary men. Extraordinary would only begin to describe how very wonderful he really was.
Erik looked down closing his eyes, swallowing. In that moment he felt entirely bare in front of this woman he called his wife. "Christine…it was truly difficult, yet a mystery to me to watch her leave this world in the arms of those that loved her."
He could not look up into her eyes, for he knew he'd come undone. He'd finish before he beheld her. "The women…they held her…prayed with her…for her….and then she was gone." His eyes misting over as he slowly blinked, a single tear glistening on the edge of his lower lid, precariously perched there before he exhaled and it teetered and ran down his quivering cheek. "It was the most peaceful passing I've ever had privilege to witness."
He looked up at her, his eyes pleading and broken. "It was as if I watched God walk into the room, lovingly take the woman's hand and lead her to the hereafter." He stared into Christine's eyes. Their stare exchanging thoughts, acknowledgement, comfort. Erik turned his eyes away, pressing them closed. He could sense Christine's tender compassion though all he could hear was the gentle rhythm of her breathing. He would continue.
"I've seen many deaths in my life Christine. Most were not favorable, nor well greeted…and none…not one, was peaceful nor lacking in some nefarious manner. That day….I'd witnessed humanity…the very essence of humanity before my eyes. There are so many in this world who have every fine ornament or possession that their wealth or position will afford them, yet they lack the grace, the peace, that I saw before me that day."
He sighed, his eyebrows raising, and his glance falling to the ground. "It is of little matter now. The woman is dead, and likely is being readied to be buried now."
Christine turned her head down to the side, looking up into Erik's down-turned face. "Erik?" He looked at her. "What of her daughter, her granddaughter?"
Erik shook his head, raising his eyebrows once more. "They'd no funds to care for the woman's final expenses. I have seen to taking care of them on their behalf. Surely though they be proud women, and I can assure you that they are, they shan't be able to refuse this for their own sakes." He looked over to the side, glancing at an undiscript place on the floor. He'd no idea what would be next for them.
"The night grew late, and before long the morning had arrived, and with it the opportunity to return to you grew. As I was preparing to depart I did have chance to speak with Nicole. It was while I waited that I'd overheard talk of some celebration…the tenth of April…and of the honors bestowed by this Lady C that everyone speaks of." An irritation grew in Erik's voice, Christine sensing the change in his demeanor.
"It was then that I'd heard mention of honor….of heroism for acts of the night previous, and within me grew such an fury that in my haste, a great lashing of words spewed forth in the presence of a crowd." Erik looked down. "Let us say that this was not well received."
Erik glanced up at her. "In a few minutes I'd delivered my acerbic diatribe, likely garnering a loathing response from some, aghast from others. Not one word did I speak that I did not mean, though my method of delivery was certainly lacking in eloquence."
Christine had want to ask him what he'd said, who had been there, what he'd received in response, but she remained silent.
"There was a sadness within me my love…it grew to a rage…" Erik looked up at her, in his eyes was a seething disdain. "It has me sickened, even to this very moment that none, not one of the able-bodied men had gone to search for the woman, with the exception of the man who'd drawn the sled. They were content and warm, as fat rats sitting in a nest nary a selfless intent or thought within them! Feckless nebbishes the lot of them! They pretend to be civilized gentry and all the while a woman lay dying in the freezing cold as they supped from their warm cups sitting by the fire chatting of pleasantries."
Erik's voice boomed, then quickly retreated as he saw the fear in Christine's eyes. He'd seen that look once before in her eyes, in response to his voice. It had been the night that she'd first unmasked him and in his horror he'd lashed out at her. He closed his eyes. "I am sorry my love, forgive my harsh manner…."
Christine slid her hand over his. "Do not worry Erik, I am listening. Your revulsion for those who do not act is only part of what makes you nobel my love."
Erik's eyes softened. Christine was wise beyond her years. She knew the very words he needed to soothe his roused anger.
"The woman…she was lonely and lost, poor dear soul. She muttered about a boy, though Nicole assured me there was no boy. She'd been a governess in Chausser before she was betrothed and married. The story of a boy was a mystery to all who knew her for they'd never seen her with a boy. Then one day, she disappeared from the City, only to come back years after her own husband had passed."
Erik looked at Christine. "Whatever had troubled the woman so, no one knows for sure." Erik sat up, his eyes growing wide, he let go of Christine's hands. "The books!" He began pacing…he'd promised the woman…how could he have been so very careless!
Christine rose, going to him, taking his hand, turning him to face her, reaching up to stroke his cheeks. "What books my love?" She smiled at him leading him back to the divan.
Erik began to think quickly. He knew nothing of the contents of the books, only that he'd promised the woman that he would take them, read them…and he was nothing if not a man of his word. He recalled her words…."We lived here…the boy…your boy…", "take the books, they'll tell you of him….", "start with the red one. Give them to no one, only you will understand….promise me." He closed his eyes, his own vow floating through his mind, "I so swear." He tried to calm himself. He would see to retrieving them, if they'd not been discovered and disposed of.
He rejoined Christine sitting down once more. "Something I'd promised to do for her…it is of no matter right now Christine." He looked up at her, a slight smile to reassure he was ready to continue.
"I'd found her in an attic, a quite obscure place to be certain…" Erik said.
Christine interrupted, "an attic?" She felt a bit faint.
Erik looked at her curiously, "yes, it was an attic with.." he stopped, Christine's face had gone pale. "Christine?" He took her hands into his.
"Was the attic…did it have exposed beams….old trunks scattered here and there…did you find her under a rather thick layer of blankets?" Christine's heart had begun to race. If he confirmed that it had been so….then her dream…the flash she'd had that day he'd been in Chauesser…it had been true.
"Christine, yes, but how did you…." Erik looked into Christine's eyes, he saw the fear that grew increasingly in them. He pulled her into an embrace; in an instant he knew. "Christine…it is a gift…though it likely feels like such a burden…you've no control over it my dear…learn only not to fear it…..but to face it." He kissed her cheek tenderly, and then her brow, leaning his forehead against hers. "It shall take time my love, but I will help you."
Christine looked into his reassuring eyes. Oh how she wanted to believe that his words were true, but even she knew he'd no control over her fate.
Christine was vastly aware that she'd change his thoughts entirely by posing the question, but it burned within her…if that vision had been accurate…what of the one of Meg and Nadir?
"Erik, my dear Erik…indeed I did have a vision of the woman, in an attic…covered in horse blankets, heavy exposed beams overhead, trunks strewn about…"
Erik's mind began to grasp what it was that Christine was wrestling with. "Mon cheri…"
"Erik, if that vision…that brief thought had been true…" she swallowed, looking up into his eyes, then leaning into the security of his arms. Erik embraced her. "What of Nadir, of Meg….how is it that…"
Erik kissed her temple, resting his chin along side her cheek. "My love, my dear, dear Christine. I'd traveled this very day to the Opera House…though I found things in disarray, there was no trace that any had been there even in recent weeks."
Christine breathed a sigh of relief. "How is it then that you…"
"I know not what the circumstances were that may have led to the dream my love. I know only with the boy dead, he's no threat to them now, nor ever again. I'd stayed several hours in the Opera House, setting a few things in order. When none came, I ventured out. It was then that I'd decided to return to you, assured it had been merely a dream. On the way back to you, I went to LeMortem to visit Perdue."
Christine gasped, a chill running up her spine. Though she knew Erik would not have fear of it, the legends she'd heard of the street still struck fear in her heart. She sat back, surely he'd gone to see about Sara.
"Upon inquiry it was then that I'd found that Nadir had been there, as well as two others on his behalf. Perdue allowed me to read the post which Nadir had sent to him via an employee of the Opera House. Nadir had been in the City and had returned to DeChagny's on urgent business. I decided I might find Nadir and warn him of what you'd seen, lest he venture there in the morning which, per his note, were his intentions. It was not long and I'd found my horse…you remember her…she was the one that you rode the first night you came to me." Erik was looking at her.
Christine remembered it well. "A black beauty, strong but gentle."
Erik nodded, "yes, yes…and I found myself on the way to Raoul's…."
Christine's eyes grew wide. For the next hour she was utterly transfixed on Erik's every word.
Before either of them knew it, the sandwiches had been eaten, the pot of tea had been drunk, and Christine was once again resting in Erik's arms. He glanced at his pocket watch, he'd want to not lose track of the day! It had been over two hours since he'd brought back the tea. Surely they would be returning soon.
Christine inhaled, looking up into Erik's eyes. There was something relieved in his glance, and she felt it too. He'd been open with her, in a way she'd not felt before, and it gave both of them comfort. "What will you do Erik…if no messenger comes, baring news of Nadir's intentions?"
Erik blinked, he'd not even considered that possibility. He wondered too what Erphan would have told the person who'd made delivery of the note. He'd not given the young man instruction as to where to deliver the reply. He slid back down. If there was one thing that he could be certain of, Nadir would find a way to reply, and likely it would come to the Opera House, barring all other possibilities.
"When they return, and the cloak of night has settled once more upon the City Christine, we shall venture to the Opera House. I've no doubt that word will come, if not the arrival of Nadir, Madame Giry, and Meg themselves."
Christine wiggled in his arms in eagerness. "Oh Erik, I cannot tell you my love how the very thought of embracing them again tickles at my heart! I feel as if I've alighted on the wings of a butterfly and am carried off to a land where all things are possible!"
Erik smiled, pulling Christine even closer, placing a delicate kiss once more on her forehead. "It will do well for you to see them again Christine." He slid his index finger beneath her chin, lifting it so as to gaze into her eyes. "You've intention to share with Meg do you not…of your being with child?"
Christine was blushing, her eyes aglitter with anticipation. "That is the very first I'll have want to share…" she hesitated, "unless you are not ready…" her heart sinking, she'd not considered that he might not want it known.
"Why yes of course my love…yes of course…" he ran his arms around her, pulling her into a warm embrace before leaning back out to look reassuringly into her eyes. "If it were within my power, and I'd not worry for discovery, I'd be at the very rooftops of Paris even now shouting at the top of my lungs of the joy that is bursting in my soul because of this very thing Christine!" He smiled at her. "Next to taking you as my wife, it is the greatest joy I've ever known!" He embraced her once more, holding her tenderly.
Christine reveled in his joy. He'd been careful to put her first once more…his words "next to taking you as my wife" …were a sweet reminder to her that he loved her first and foremost. Somehow she doubted she would ever suffer the feeling of neglect that she'd heard so many wives speak of in the first year after their marriage. She smiled, she shouldn't be surprised…he was like no other man she'd ever known…or heard tale of.
"We should ready ourselves my dear. Ready for our departure when they…" Christine stopped. Erik was looking at her most seriously. A deep thoughtful serious.
He looked at his pocket watch. They'd been gone now but four hours. Truly they would soon return, but even then, it would be but mid-day, and far too early to venture out into the streets of Paris as they were now. "Come, let us go back…"
Christine rose, her hand in Erik's. "To the parlor?" she said looking hopefully into his eyes.
He looked back over his shoulder as he pushed the curtain aside. "Yes, the parlor. We've a few more painting to cover my dear, and I've no intention of leaving the room until you are fully satisfied. They tell the story of the woman I am privileged to know, whose love I bask in each day, and arms I rest in each night."
He lifted her hand as he led her down the hall. A flash of the night he'd first led her down that candlelit corridor to his home in the deep recesses of the Opera House running passed his eyes. The music began to rage once more in his mind. Then, he'd led an innocent girl in awe of what she beheld, a specter come to life, embodied in flesh. Now he led his wife, his lover, his friend, back to walls filled with memories; to a place where the two could tenderly share the smattering of years the paintings portrayed.