Chapter 198 Newton's Law
Newton's First Law of Motion:The first law of motion: an object at rest will remain at rest will remain at rest, and an object in motion will remain in motion, unless acted upon by an equal or greater force.
Dear Faithfuls:
As we ramp up for Chapter 200, chapters 198 and 199 will be much longer than most. After Chapter 199 is posted, I will be taking a much needed hiatus from the story, though probably considered brief by some writers, it will be very painful for me to not touch the story everyday. I have several special work assignments that will make it nearly impossible for me to give this story its proper attention. To that end, I have something very special in store for you with the posting of chapter 199. Though it will not make up for having a new chapter appearing four-five times a week, my hope is that it will give you a renewed love for the story of POTO, and the tale that you and I have spun together in this work from the heart. You have all been a special part of my life for these last months, indeed we have become Phamily, linked together by the love of a story, and an ideal that love really can triumph over tragedy if one has the courage to try.
So, alas, chapter 199, will be the last chapter until Valentine's Day. Again, perhaps that does not seem long to you, but to me, it will seem like an eternity. I promise it will all make sense when chapter 200 arrives. Though I will be away from updating, that does not mean that the pen will not be to the paper, writing yet another chapter, with all of you in mind. I will try during my time away to answer any e-mails that you send, but I cannot promise.
And as they say, now on with the story…..
"Do come in," Misty said politely, welcoming the travelers from Chauesser. She smiled at the undertaker's apprentice, and politely curtsied to the man in the thick cloak and top hat. "Come sit in the parlor," she motioned for them to sit. "I shall be back in but a moment."
David and Patrick made themselves comfortable. Their cloaks had been taken by another maid who'd come in to collect them. Both men sat with notes in their laps. Anyone viewing the situation from outside would have thought it to be two would-be-suitors come to deliver their letters of engagement as nervous as the pair looked.
Misty soon returned with a silver tray, a pot of tea and a few sandwiches. "Gentlemen, I hope you do not mind my assumptions. It is very nearly the dinner hour and I'd not known how long you might be staying, do have a sandwich and some tea." She nodded as she sat the tray down in front of them, pouring each of them a cup of tea.
They thanked her kindly, and though neither were hungry after what they'd eaten at the tavern, they'd not be insulting her hospitality. Each took a sandwich on their plate.
"Now what is it that brings you two out from the City?" Misty was eyeing the envelopes on the laps of the men. She'd known personally that the account had been settled at the undertaker's, and the other man….he'd said to be there at the request of Lady C. She could not imagine what it was that would have brought them there together.
David was the first to speak. "I bear here," he lifted the envelope and handed it to Misty, "a note of thanks to your employer dear mademoiselle. You see, even in a City such as Chauesser, it is not often that accounts with undertakers are settled so swiftly. He, my employer, wanted me to convey his gratitude, and to…" words ran dry, how could he say anything more?
Patrick interrupted, diverting Misty's attention. "Andre said that he'd had the pleasure of making your acquaintance at the undertaker's earlier. He wanted me to convey his good wishes, and hoped that all was going well with the household in the Monsieur's absence."
Misty's eyes left David, now focusing on Patrick. She blushed slightly as the memory of the interchange between she and Andre. "Yes, bid him hello for me when you return."
Patrick caught the glimmer in Misty's eyes; he'd be certain to share that with him as well. "I too come bearing a note mademoiselle." He handed it to her. "I am instructed to have you read it, and carry your reply at my return."
Misty looked at the envelope. "Monsieur, the master of the house has not yet returned. It is possible that he may not for a day or more, I'd shared as much with Andre. I am afraid he shan't be able to reply until he returns."
Patrick smiled at her, putting his cup back in the saucer. "No dear lady, I've been instructed to have someone from his household open it. I believe that it is a mere inquisition, as the Lady would like to visit with him. You see, we've a town celebration in several weeks, and if you know of the customs of gifts that Lady C is prone to, you might understand why she has need to know so as to make final arrangements."
Misty smiled, "yes, yes, I've not been to the celebration, but I have heard rumor of it." In truth she'd felt somehow left out when she turned sixteen. All of the other girls had strings of pearls, and because the household was not firmly established in Chauesser, and certainly not there in April, she'd never received a strand of her own.
"Very well then." She slid her thumb underneath the wax, removing the seal. She slid out the note, the penmanship was beautiful, she glanced down at the bottom of it, her breath caught, what silliness…it was signed by Andre, and it made her heart beat just a bit faster knowing he'd penned the note himself. She read…..
Dear Monsieur Courtland,
Lady C would like very much to have a brief audience with you on the morrow. You may not be aware, but there is a rather large celebration that is just weeks off now. It would bring her much pleasure to include you and your wife, as well as your household in the festivities. If this note finds you to be unable to accept such a visit, please send reply with this messenger.
In sincerest regards, Andre
Misty sat the note on the table. Taking a sip from the cup. "I see." She sighed. "As I've said, I do not know when Monsieur Courtland will return, though one would have hoped that they would have already done so. It is my assumption that the changing weather may have made it difficult." She paused, how could she refuse the woman yet again? Her sentimental mind clouded her judgment. "Am I to assume that Andre will accompany her on this visit?" She'd really no idea how she could justify asking such a question.
Patrick blinked. "Why yes, whenever Lady C travels, Andre is her companion." He wanted to smile at the twinkle in the young woman's eye, but he would be discrete pretending he'd not noticed it.
"Very well then, do share with Lady C that there is possibility that the Monsieur and his wife would be home on the morrow, but do tell her that there is always the possibility that they will be waylaid and not arrive. If she wishes to visit, she may do so, but she might very well find them not here."
Patrick scratched at the back of his neck. How could he take back such an ambivalent answer? "Do tell me, have they traveled far that you would worry for their return?"
Misty nodded taking another sip from her cup. "Yes, they'd traveled to Paris to visit a relative who'd been injured. It is likely the weather that has delayed their return."
"Yes, we'd heard that the paths from Paris were melting rapidly." David interjected. Misty turned to look at him. "Two sleighs of goods arrived from Paris this afternoon. The drivers told tale of the slush that they'd driven through. They only hoped that they'd make the return trip without becoming stuck in the likes of it. Though I think they'll have little trouble perhaps as night falls as the temperature has dropped precipitously no doubt it will provide a much firmed surface to travel on." He said.
Misty nodded. She thought to herself, knowing Stephan, they would be home by not long after the sun rose. "It is so very good that deliveries have been made from Paris. I know that the Monsieur awaited some items that he'd ordered, perhaps they would have arrived on one of the sleighs."
Misty looked at both men, the question rising in her mind once again. "So how is it that the two of you both found your way here together?" It really was strange as they'd not business in common with the household.
"Mere happenstance dear mademoiselle." Patrick smiled at her. "I was at the tavern resting my horse, and this young man," he said slapping David along the back, "we struck up a conversation over tea. We decided to travel together lest one of our animals go lame, and in truth it is more agreeable to have company on a trip!"
David smiled too. He was released from his obligation to the undertaker, having done what was bid him. He could take back to the man what he knew, hoping to appease his curiosity for a time until Lady C could intervene.
Patrick glanced at David, "we best be off. I've a distance to travel beyond Chauesser I'm afraid, and I've much to discuss with Lady C when I return."
David nodded, taking the last bite of his sandwich, and a sip of tea. "You are certainly right. I've duties to finish at the…" his voice trailed. No one truly wanted to know what went on at a mortuary unless one was in the business of it. Taking barrels of blood out beyond the city to be burned was not a pleasant task, and certainly not one that anyone would want to hear about.
The trio rose, and almost on cue the maid reappeared with the gentlemen's cloaks.
"Thank you most kindly for your pleasant hospitality dear lady." Patrick lifted Misty's hand kissing it as if she were the lady of the house.
David was nodding, "and me as well." He felt oddly unfamiliar with the custom. It was one that was never engaged in his profession. The touch of an undertaker was likened to the touch by the hands of death. They'd long since given up the practice of greeting ladies with such formality.
"Gentleman, thank you for your notes. I shall see to getting them to the Monsieur when he returns." She turned specifically addressing Patrick as he donned his top hat. "Do be certain to tell Lady C of the possibility that they may not return, but that the monsieur's household would be glad to greet her on his behalf should she choose to take the opportunity to pay a call."
Patrick nodded, "I certainly shall." He turned to depart through the door that David had opened. He smiled, turning back to Misty, he couldn't resist. "And I shall be certain to convey your fond regards to Andre. I've no doubt he should enjoy accompanying Lady C on the morrow." He grinned mischievously.
Misty felt a bit flustered. She could feel her cheeks growing crimson. "I shall look forward to greeting the Lady, and her companion." She smiled trying to keep her most proper composure. "I do wish you gentleman a safe and swift return to Chauesser, and again, on behalf of Monsieur Courtland and his wife, I thank you for delivering the notes to us."
The two men passed through the door to be greeted by the stableman who'd brought their horses round from the stable behind. They mounted and departed.
Misty leaned with her back against the door. She was questioning her judgment. Had she misspoken, agreeing to have Lady C pay a visit only so that she might see Andre? In her gut she knew the answer, though she was ashamed for it. She'd never met anyone in her life that had that affect on her. She doubted she'd sleep a wink that night.
XXXXX
The propsmaster paced heavily back and forth in his quarters. Everything was readied. He withdrew his pocket watch, it was six o'clock, the very hour she was to arrive. He was worried that she would have changed her mind, gone back on her word. After all, she'd already received what she'd wanted from the bargain, and though it would not look good for her, to whom would he complain that she'd not come for their promised dinner? Who would have blamed her? He scratched at his chin, his usual beard now gone, he did so more out of nervous habit than anything. He had so very much to talk about, that his previous fear of boring the woman to tears was gone. Now he only hoped she would find pleasure in his hospitality, and feel relaxed and quite at ease while in his company.
There was a soft knock at the door. He spun on his heels, his chest swelling…she hadn't forgotten her promise!
The woman stood outside the door. She'd groomed herself, but not too finely lest she raise question by those around her as to her preparations. She hoped he would understand. She smoothed her hair back as she heard the footsteps toward the door. Inside her heart was beating fast. Why had she agreed to this? Oh what on earth would they talk about, and how long did he expect for her to stay? And what sort of meal would he have scratched together? She'd decided to be most polite no matter what he had made, for he'd done so with some effort she was certain.
As the door opened she was greeted by two things that surprised her. First the wonderful aroma, heavy laden with basil, garlic, and lemon; and a clean shaven face of a man! His hair coiffed behind his ears, a freshly pressed shirt.
"Do come in dear lady, dinner is ready, and I've much to tell you." He moved his arm bidding her to enter.
She smiled at him, "thank you," she said, as he closed the door behind her.
XXXXXXX
Nicole and the doctor sat quietly by the fire. They'd spent a lovely afternoon visiting, and aside from the tea her mother had had around three that afternoon, she'd preferred to stay in her room. She had been looking through old family letters that had been exchanged between she and her mother so many years ago. Nicole had listened to her softly crying several times, and had decided she'd not disturb her until she was ready for company.
"I'll have to be returning to work the day after next." She said looking up at John. He smiled at her. "My employer has been most gracious to allow me to be gone for those days." She glanced at him again, his smile still unnerved her.
"What would please you to do on the morrow then?" He said, sighing, shifting his body slightly toward her as he repositioned himself on the divan.
Nicole blinked heavily, was his intention to occupy her time until she returned to work? "In truth, I'd not even thought of it." She swallowed, clearing her throat. Having him sitting so close made it difficult for her to concentrate. She blinked before looking up into his eyes.
"Perhaps we could go and have a look at your grandfather's house? Then we will know what we've to do to prepare it for suitable living arrangements." She hoped that the idea did not make him feel less than welcome to stay with she and her mother. It only made sense. She'd not want to bore him with another afternoon of idle conversation of her childhood, though in truth she'd rather enjoyed listening to his! They'd both grown up rather quickly, but had come from entirely different households. Wealth did not always provide for an easier, or less complicated existence.
The doctor smiled at her. "I think that is a most excellent idea. Perhaps your mother would like to join us?"
Inside Nicole had a sudden pang of disappointment, and felt immediately remorseful for it. She had rather enjoyed having his company all to herself. "Of course, we shall offer it when she wakes from her nap."
Nicole rose going over to tend to the oven. She'd a small smoked ham baking, and the smell was heavenly when she opened the door. She looked at the crust of the pie, it had browned nicely, and she could see the cherry juices bubbling out of the vents she'd cut in the center. It would be a wonderful meal. She smiled again. She'd never had a man's help preparing a meal before, nor doing dishes for that matter. She closed the oven door, turning to call out to John that dinner would not be long off. As she did, she saw him standing not far from her. Though it startled her, she was not frightened.
"Come, come," he said to her, his arms outstretched.
She walked to his arms, not thinking twice. She slid her arms around his waist putting her head on his chest as he wrapped his arms carefully around her.
His words fell gently on her ears. "Yet another piece of sage wisdom from my grandfather."
She turned her head up looking into John's eyes with question.
He slid his hand up along her head, gently guiding it back to his chest. He rested his head on top of hers. He recited the quote for her, "never underestimate the power of a gentle embrace. It is often more potent and comforting than any drug, especially to a grieving heart."
Nicole smiled. She'd heard those very words from his grandfather himself when she was a much younger girl. It was right after her father had died, and she was so far away from him, and could not return. The doctor had paid a visit on she and her grandmother, embracing both of them, admonishing them to do so whenever they felt a wave of sorrow pass over.
"Your grandfather was a most wise man, I dare say ahead of his time." She said, closing her eyes at the warmth of his breath on her temple. He was right, it soothed her more than morphine.
XXXXX
Raoul woke with a startle. He'd have sworn he heard the door to the nearly dark room slam shut. He flung his covers from him and began to sit up when he'd felt a gentle but firm hand on his shoulder. Raoul gasped.
"Rest young man," the Barron gently pressed his shoulders back to the pillow. "You've only just now been able to lay on your back without moaning, let us not push the issue further by trying to sit right away." The doctor said, pulling the covers back up to Raoul's waist. He pulled over the chair he'd been sitting on by the window.
Raoul was blinking , his eyes feeling like someone had tossed sand in them. "Where is she?" Raoul had so many questions, he'd not know where to begin.
"Where is who Raoul?" The doctor said as he took Raoul's pulse.
"Meg, she was just here a few minutes ago…I must talk to her!" Raoul said with an anxiousness in his voice.
"Raoul, Meg has not been here for hours. She has been with her mother and Nadir at my request. She's to retire for the evening. I assured her that this time you'd not sneak out on my watch!"
The doctor turned up the light of the kerosene lamp. "Let's have a look at the back of your head shall we?" the doctor said as he helped Raoul turn to his stomach. Raoul yelled out in pain. "That pain that you feel comes from sleeping so many hours on your stomach with your arms above your head. I am sorry, I should have seen to putting your arms down. The discomfort will not last long Raoul."
The doctor put on spectacles leaning over Raoul's head. He touched the stitches lightly with a piece of gauze. It proved to be dry when he was finished. A very good sign that things were sealing up nicely. "Very good young man. Now as long as you stay in one place, and allow that to heal properly you will be fine. Your father is most eager to have you out and about in a few days time!"
Raoul looked at him confused. Where is it that he would like me to go?"
The Barron laughed as he began drawing a syringe. "Why to greet your adoring citizens. You have become something of a hero in Paris. With Crawlings dead, you've given them a renewed hope that the streets of Paris are safe to travel again!"
Raoul pressed his eyes closed. Had everyone gone mad? "Barron, you are as close to me as any member of my family, perhaps closer than some. I tell you the truth sir, it was not I who shot Crawlings! I beg of you to listen to me, to hear what I've to tell you."
The doctor turned from the syringe he held up, "what is it that you've to tell me Raoul?"
Raoul swallowed hard, "does no one believe me when I say it? Then will you not believe me when I tell you I saw the Phantom in his lair, that Christine might still be alive?"
Raoul's face was twisted in pain, but not of the physical sort, but the kind that emanates from the deep recesses of one's consciousness. "I fear…." He sighed, "that drug, that infernal drug…" Raoul looked up at the doctor with pleading eyes. "I fear that it gives me delusions…I hear things, see things that are not there…."
Raoul swallowed, he'd begun to wonder about his mind, oh what cruel tricks it played on him now. Was it fears that he'd tucked so far into his mind that wandered out now in delusional dreams of the most fantastic kind? He closed his eyes, pressing them hard. Meg could never, would never….she was far too innocent a soul to ever….he had to have imagined it.
The doctor inhaled, looking down, a sadness in his eyes. The blow to Raoul's head had been much worse than he'd thought. Now, with the additional injury caused by what he did not know, he worried gravely for Raoul. "Raoul, you've need to rest." He rolled up Raoul's sleeve, bringing the needle to his arm.
"No, I've no need for that medicine, it makes my judgment clouded, I am unable to respond to anyone when I've taken that infernal drug! I need you to listen to me, I fear I'm going quite mad! That cloak over there…"
The doctor glanced over to where Raoul pointed. He furrowed his brow. "What cloak Raoul?" For the chair was empty. The doctor scanned the room, there was nothing there.
Raoul inhaled a staggering breath, worry crushing in on him all the more. "The black cloak, the woman's cloak, the one that I…it was …" his voice trailed off as his lower lip began to quiver.
The doctor held Raoul's arm firmly, carefully sliding the shank of the needle just below the flesh. Slowly the potent drug flowed from the syringe into his vein, the medicine blending with his blood on its way to his heart. It would be pushed throughout his body with every beat of it. In large doses it could be lethal. But in smaller does, its ability to capture and hold the impulses of nerve and thought was certain to be sure. The doctor knew it was what Raoul needed most; to be free from all conscious thought until he was well enough to sort things out in his mind.
"You need to rest. I will sit with you and you can tell me anything that you like Raoul until you fall asleep." The doctor slid the needle from Raoul's arm, rolling down his sleeve. He lifted the blanket under Raoul's chest. "Here, have a few sips of broth. No doubt you'll be as hungry as a bear from hibernation when you wake in the morning." He lifted the cup to Raoul's lips.
He had a flash of the so many times he'd sat by Raoul's side as he'd grown from a small child into manhood. Somehow, in all the patients that he had, this one had a very special place in his heart.
XXXXX
Madame Giry closed the door to her bedchamber. "She rests now." Smiling as she came to sit on the divan across from Nadir. "I do hope that she sleeps until morning, the day has been most difficult."
Nadir nodded his head, "I do think her near fainting at dinner tonight is but a sign that Meg is in need of rest and recuperation, more peaceful perhaps than what Paris can offer her now. So much has happened here."
Madame Giry was shaking her head. "Meg is happy Nadir, for the first time in many years she is happy. Though yes, she is weary. A good bit of rest , I agree, would be favorable. Perhaps a long visit with Christine and Erik would be of good use, but she'd never agree to be away from Raoul at that length. Not now when he has risked so very much to be with her. Separating them now, I dare say, would be devastating."
Nadir rubbed his hands together, glancing down at the floor. He did not know how to properly bring this up. Perhaps there was no proper way.
"Tonight when you'd already gone to put Meg to rest, Andre and Firmin came looking for DeChagny. It seems this news of the Vicomte defending the City of Paris seems to have had amazing affects on the swell of interest with which the reopening of the Opera Populaire is being anticipated. DeChagny left not long ago with Andre and Firmin, promising to return later if he could, though I shan't think we will see him again this evening." Nadir looked up at her. "I'm afraid there is something brewing about a celebration of some sort or another in his honor." Nadir sighed, looking down again. "Their worlds are so far apart, yet their souls are so closely aligned, I dare say it will be a problem they will wrestle with all of their lives."
There was a moment of silent contemplation. Yet another crossroads…would life ever be quiet….normal?
Nadir sighed. "You see my dear, the baron is suggesting that Raoul recuperate at his vacation house hours from here. It is north of Paris. He fears for Raoul's mind as much as his body." Nadir gave Madame Giry a knowing look, "and I dare say we both know why."
Madame Giry nodded. She'd been privy to the details of what Nadir referred to. "Perhaps…no…well…"
"Ah, I see you are thinking along the same lines that I am. Yes, if Meg was to accompany Raoul they'd both go likely without protest. I know there would be question of propriety of course that would have to be breeched, but perhaps an escort for Meg could be arranged, someone who would rest in an adjoining room." Nadir looked at Madame Giry, a bit of worry in his eye. He could see it in her expression, where would that leave her? Surely she could not go with them, not with the Opera Populaire re-opening.
She closed her eyes briefly, swallowing, she straightened her spine, opening her eyes to look at Nadir. "This is the turning point is it not? The precipice we'd sooner avoid than face?" she sighed. "I knew one day it would come, but somehow I'd imagined it would be under more peaceful circumstances." She looked toward the sliver of the sun that blazed orange on the western horizon. "Yet another chapter in this life, come to a close." Her lower lids were brimming with a welling moisture as she glanced at Nadir.
He moved across the small distance, and came to rest next to her. "Antoinette, it pains you to see Meg go, but if they agree, what alternative do we have? Raoul needs to sort things out in his mind, and Meg, she too is burdened with thoughts. It would most certainly give them opportunity to make sure that their bond was not one of the moment and circumstance. If they spend, oh, a month or so at his northern estate, it would give them time for unrestricted visits, uncomplicated by the freedom from prying eyes." He looked at Madame Giry, her face was still receptive.
Raoul reached out taking Madame Giry's hand. "Antimonite, I wonder too…just as you might wonder…what is to become of us. Where do I fit in…where do you fit in?" He smiled at her as his eyes met hers, his thumb gently rubbing over the back of her hand. "We have served our purposes for all of them, have we not? Served them faithfully, loyally?"
Madame Giry felt a great lump growing in her throat. Every time Nadir touched her, she was reminded of how human she was…how very much she missed the simple pleasure of the sensation. She could say nothing, but nodded her head in response.
"You are needed here now Antoinette. The citizens of Paris will expect a spectacular performance when the doors finally open. You do not think that they could begin to do so without you!"
Madame Giry blushed, smiling at him, suddenly feeling a bit less like a mother and guardian, and more like the ballet mistress she had always been. "No."
"Then dear Lady, your place is here…here in Paris, in command of the chorus girls who are certain to be returning in the next weeks. I overheard Firmin telling DeChagny as much, that the letters to the former employees had all been sent."
Madame Giry looked concerned, her brow furrowed for a moment and then relaxed. They were the managers, they hardly needed her permission to contact their employees. Under the old regime a common courtesy would have been extended, telling her of the intentions to send posts. But with the new owners came a new way of conducting business…oh how it had changed the balance of everything under that very roof! "Letters, hmm, yes I suppose they would have sent them."
Nadir repositioned himself on the divan, sliding a bit closer to Antoinette. "My dear, Erik will not need me when he returns to Courtland Manor with Christine. He has a most competent and loyal staff that will tend to their every need. True, I will still have need to travel between here and there, but I will not be looked-for as I once was."
Nadir's eyes turned dark for a moment. "I've but one trip to make to the city I once called my home. My future no longer lays within those walls….my place is here." He paused for a moment, looking at Madame Giry until her eyes rose to meet his. His voice was sure and steady, "my place is here with you."
His chest was aching, for in that very moment this woman would have the ability to dash his hopes against the craggy rocks of uncertainty. He had to be brave…hope that he had not spoken too much in haste…but he could no longer afford to be coy. For if she'd no intentions, no inclinations as to their coupling, then he had need to step aside.
Madame Giry closed her eyes, her breathing now shallow. Could it be that she might have opportunity to think of only herself for a time…truly focus on what she wanted without concern for another? The possibility was both terrifying and exhilarating.
Her lips trembled as she opened her eyes, staring into Nadir's, wide and hopeful. She smiled, a tear disturbed ran quietly down her ivory cheek. She blinked, raising her hand to wipe it away. A single tiny gasp, a bit of a nervous laugh, she looked down and back up again into Nadir's eyes that had never left her. In that moment….he had his answer.
"Oh Antoinette," he breathed as he took her into a warm embrace, kissing her cheek.
Madame Giry rested her head on his shoulder, "Nadir I don't know how…what will we tell Meg?" She looked at him for the first time for advice for the young woman in her life whom she had shared sparingly with others in her life. Now it only seemed fitting that he should have some say in the matter.
Nadir slid his arm protectively around Antoinette, leaning back on the divan. "My dear, I think that Meg already knows." He turned his face, placing a kiss on her forehead that rested against his chest. "She has, for some months now, felt very much like a daughter to me Antoinette, but never more than she did today. For the first time, I had a inkling of what pride and love one must have for their child."
Madame Giry sighed, a relieved sigh. "I suppose she does know…" she paused, "in fact I do know what she thinks on the matter…she's told me as much."
Nadir smiled, shifting just slightly so as to look into her eyes. "And what has she said of it Antoinette?"
She returned his smile with sincerity, "she wishes for us to both be happy Nadir."
With his hand he gently nestled her head back into his shoulder, "and so we shall be dear Madame, and so we shall be."
XXXXXX
"Good night gentlemen," he said, nodding first to Firmin, and then to Andre. "I shall see to it straight away. I'll see you at tea on the morrow then?"
"Yes of course, and do wish him the best for us won't you." Firmin said as he nodded in return.
DeChagny nodded once more as the carriage driver closed the door, returning to his seat. DeChagny sighed as he walked toward the front doors of the Opera House. He knew well that the doctor would not be at all fond of the idea of moving Raoul now, but there was little choice. Word had spread that Raoul was not at DeChagny Manor, and since his entourage had been mulling about the Opera Populaire, there was heavy speculation that Raoul himself was in hiding there. If they did not act, and act swiftly, the place would be mobbed. He had already sent word back to Raoul's house. A sleigh of supplies, and a quintet of servants was no doubt already on their way to Plum house to ready it for Raoul's arrival. It would not yet be warm enough there, so an additional sleigh of blankets, rugs, and firewood would depart well after dark, lest it be seen.
He came to the front doors of the Opera House, opening them he walked inside. He'd only now to convince Raoul, to convince the doctor that this was the most prudent course until the reopening.
XXXXX
Erik and Christine still laughed over the stories that had been told. Somehow knowing that Christine knew of the woman, cared for the woman, made it so much easier for Erik. He'd not have to explain where he had learned certain things, or where he had gone during the absences in her childhood. The visit would have told her far more than mere words alone ever could have. As they tidied the kitchen, putting everything back into its place, they could hear the woman humming, she always seemed happiest when she was doing something.
The woman was happily tucking the last of the garments she'd made for Christine into the rather large satchel that she'd bid Erphan bring her before he left on his most recent excursion out into Paris. She'd not tell them of the gift for the children, she would let that be a surprise when they unpacked the bag upon their arrival home. She had begun to whistle a tune, a smile crossing her face as she whistled a bit louder.
"Your humor is not lost on us dear lady! I can see that unlike the wine, your ability to carry a tune has not improved with time!" He was laughing as he looked at Christine who had just wiped and put away the last tea cup. "It is the song that I had tried to teach her that night in the cellar." He shook his head, "how was I to guess the woman was tone deaf?" He laughed as he extended his arm to Christine. "My lady."
Christine slipped her arm into his as he escorted her from the kitchen. It had been a pleasant evening. They were waiting only for Erphan's return. His words alone would determine how the evening would end.
As they reached the entryway into the woman's workshop, Christine and Erik both felt it, a cool breeze around their ankles, the door to the service entrance opened, JP walking in.
"Erphan has returned, he shall be in but a moment." JP said as he walked toward the room that he and Erphan had occupied. He had everything with the exception of the last few satchels loaded into the sleigh as Elizabeth had instructed. He was dressed warmly and ready for whatever the Monsieur would decide. He nodded as he passed them. "I shall await your instruction Monsieur."
Erik nodded in reply. Now turning his attention to Christine. "Perhaps you would like to visit with the lady whilst I speak with Erphan?'
She knew he was being polite in making the request, for he'd have insisted if she'd refused. Something about his tone had told her that he would be making the decision with or without her blessing. She nodded. "Yes, I should like that very much." She reached up, placing a small kiss on his jaw and slipped into the woman's workshop.
Erik walked down to their room, pushing aside the curtains. He slipped on his waistcoat. He listened as a pair of boots came down the hall in earnest, a slight knock on the wall just outside. "Do come in Erphan." He said as he finished tying his cravat, turning to face the young man. "So what have you to tell me?" He gestured toward the chair that Erphan had occupied earlier that evening as he himself came to rest on the divan.
"Monsieur, I've done as you bid me. JP is even now loading into the sleigh what items I procured from the man's shop. I dare say I purchased a bit more than I intended so as not to appear to be standing about for the opportune time to speak with the shopkeeper!"
Erik nodded, that mattered little to him, he was certain that whatever Erphan had purchased would be put to good use. "So what say he?"
Erphan cleared his throat. "The sleighs have returned, and as we suspected, they had indeed gone to Chauesser and one small village along the way." Erphan looked down sighing, "I'm afraid sir, that if we do not travel tonight, there will be little opportunity for us to do so. The cool night air has allowed for some firming, but on the morrow, if it is as warm as it was today, there will be little snow cover left, making our travels nearly impossible by sleigh."
Erik leaned back. In his heart he had hoped that they'd have one more night with this woman, but his logical mind had told him otherwise. "I see."
"The mud already grows thick along parts of the path I am told. If you should prefer to stay, I can see to procuring a carriage, and plan for a return trip to retrieve the sleigh, I've learned that there are several…" Erphan stopped, Erik had raised his hand.
"There is no need, that would only further draw attention." Erik sighed. "All the preparations have been made, the packing now done. The sky has grown dark." He stood extending his hand to Erphan. "Well done young man." Erik looked over Erphan's shoulder, JP stood outside the room, a rather large red bloom in his hand. "And what is this?" Erik said, looking at Erphan.
Erphan turned to look, "ah yes, thank you JP, that will be all." Erphan said, much to JP's chagrin. He turned to Erik, extending the vase and stem. "This Monsieur, is an Amaryllis. I thought you might like to give it to the woman who has been kind enough to be our host. I understand that the flower itself is to convey that the recipient is lovely and worthy of honor. It is fragrant, and," he reached out running his finger along one of the petals, "it is soft and lovely." He smiled at Erik, "one not need eyes to appreciate the beauty of this flower."
Erik looked down at Erphan, a serious smile crossing his face. He put his hand on Erphan's shoulder. "You young man, remind me very much of another man that I know." He smiled at Erphan. "You've done very well, thank you." Erik took the flower from Erphan moving toward the doorway. "Please see to the final details then won't you?"
Erphan nodded, "it will be my pleasure Monsieur." He nodded, and found himself in the corridor moving toward the service entrance. If they left the City in the next hour or two, they'd be home in the morning, even with a stop to freshen the horses. Oh how he longed to sleep in his own bed! Though the trip would be long, it would be nice to be home again.
XXXXX
DeChagny knocked just once on the door to the room where Raoul lay resting. By the dim of the light he'd not be certain who he might find at his side. The doctor had instructed Meg to rest, but knowing this young woman, she'd be at his side. When there was no response, he opened the door. Surely enough, he had not been wrong. The doctor sat asleep on the chair not far from Raoul, and Meg herself was perched precariously in a chair, her head leaned on Raoul's chest. He chuckled to himself. If he had been a thief he would have been easily triumphant.
He walked quietly over to the chair where the doctor sat, carefully shaking the man's shoulder until he stirred.
The doctor sat straight up, batting his eyes trying to focus. He looked like he'd been woken from the sleep of the dead. He glanced over at Raoul, sighing in relief, then looking in torment at Meg. He looked back up at DeChagny.
DeChagny had a singular finger pressed against his lips. One hand on the doctor's shoulder, he nodded toward the door, he'd something to discuss with the doctor that would require a bit of privacy.
The doctor rose, following him through the door, stretching slightly trying to further wake himself. As he closed the door he looked at Raoul, his arm delicately draped over Meg's back as she slept. Could those two not be parted even when it was for their own good?
DeChagny led the doctor down the hall to the other end. He struck a match as they entered the gathering room, going over to the kerosene lamp that had been left in the center of the table. The doctor looked around, a fresh tray of coffee had been laid on the table.
"Sit sir, we've something to discuss, and though I respect your opinion, I want it to be known straightaway, that I shan't be changing my mind."
The doctor, still not fully awake could do little more than nod his head as he began to pour a cup of the hot brew.
"We are to leave Paris, tonight, under the cloak of darkness. It seems Raoul's efforts in slaying the last of the Crawling clan has caused quiet a clamor. I know sir, that my son is not well enough to greet the public no matter how genteel or adoring they might be, he is in quite a fragile state." He paused to look at the doctor, so far the man showed no signs of hesitancy, he would continue.
He poured himself a cup of the coffee. "Andre, Firmin and I have spoken sir, and since it will be perhaps a month or perhaps two before the first production is ready, we shall plan for a rather grand gala to celebrate both the reopening, and the efforts of my son. This will give us time to prepare everything for a production, and give Raoul time to recuperate." He ran his hand along the back of his head. He wondered what Raoul would think of the rather large patch of missing hair? Perhaps two month's time would help that as well.
The doctor watched as DeChagny rose from his chair and began to pace. The very thing which drove Raoul quite mad about his father, and even madder that he'd inherited the trait.
"I've no doubt that the citizen's of Chauesser have every good intention of being respectful, but the sheer number of them alone would not bode well for Raoul's recovery if he were to see them outside of his estate." He glanced up at the doctor, who was beginning to focus. "We both know what he thinks of such things as of late."
The doctor nodded. He shared in the same concern for him. "What is it that you are suggesting sir?" The doctor tiring of the polite banter, preferred to cut to the chase.
"I've things already in preparation. We will leave this night, by the service entrance. Certainly all will think it is simply me returning to Raoul's. But we are not traveling to Raoul's. We will take a rather abrupt turn once we are out of view of Paris. I've a sleigh on the ready to meet us in the small woods just beyond the stream."
"Yes, yes, I know it well, so what are your intentions?" The doctor said, secretly thinking that they may inadvertently been of like minds.
"The sleigh, one borrowed that bares no crest nor markings of nobility will then go North from there on to…"
"Plum house?" The doctor said, taking another heavy sip from the cup.
A wide smile crossed DeChagny's face, "you do not object then?"
"On the contrary sir, I could not agree with you more. Raoul is no more ready to be thrown head-long into the throngs of cheering Parisians, than he is ready to accept what he has indeed done. He needs rest, and if it means scurrying off into seclusion for a time, I could think of nothing more favorable for him sir."
DeChagny nodded. "Now of course, society would frown upon it, and I've not spoken to her mother, but what think you of the girl?" DeChagny shook his head, "how very rude of me, I'd rather made the assumption that you might accompany Raoul, at least for a time, if you can be away from the City."
The doctor was nodding. Yes, he'd other patients to tend to, and perhaps he could once a week make the trip back into Paris. His primary concern now was Raoul. "Yes, it would be beneficial until he's fully healed." The doctor looked down at his hands, then up at DeChagny. "Meg too requires my attention. Her recovery, while progressing nicely is not yet complete. But I could put her in the charge of another physician if it were necessary."
DeChagny looked at him, shaking his head. "I know my son sir. I know he will be more than agitated if he is to wake and find her gone. He will be certain that is some evil plot to which I've come in order to separate them. Perhaps, there is some way…"
"A suitable escort sir, perhaps Madeline if she can be spared?" The doctor said.
"But what of Madame Giry, she shan't have ever been away from Meg for more than a week at a time, and I've need for the woman here as we ready the dormitories for occupation." He scratched at his chin.
The doctor rose, feeling a bit more himself now. "I think the woman can be reasoned with sir. She knows of their affections for one another, and truly she longs for both to find happiness. Though she may miss her daughter, I think we could make good argument for the temporary separation. Meg is not ready to join her mother in the chorus, if that is what she wishes to do. It only makes sense that she would want to provide a safe haven for Meg until she is ready to make such a decision." The doctor laid his hand on DeChagny's shoulder.
The two men turned as they heard a soft rap on the doorframe. It was Nadir. They nodded as Nadir entered. "Good evening to you both," Nadir said, "I've something I'd like very much to discuss with you, if I might."
"Come, come, sit," DeChagny motioned toward the small table and chairs by the windows. "Yes, let us have a discussion, for we've an idea ourselves, but it would require swift action."
Nadir nodded his head, he was thinking the same thing. The swifter the flight from Paris for Meg and Raoul, the better.