Dear Faithfuls:
Oh how I have missed you! Happy Valentine's Day I hope this chapter brings everyone a little something to make them smile!
The warm winds of June were wafting through the heavily blooming gardens at Courtland Manor. The addition of several more sculptures to the meandering walk-ways through the plethora of flora made the gardens even more whimsical than they had been in previous years. There was something about having the manor occupied by its owners that just made everything seem more alive. The greenery was lush, with deciduous and foreign plants alike blending in harmony to form a beautiful green carpet. Several of the new glass lanterns had been added as well as several generous benches, making it all the more a beckoning haven on the warm summer nights that yet lay ahead.
Off in the distance could be heard gentle laughter. "Erik, your humor astounds me!" Christine said as she slid her hand once more into his as they strolled along the shore dipping their toes in the warm water that was splashing about their ankles. Christine had the hem of her dress bunched up and grasped in one hand.
Erik leaned over kissing the top of her head. "I am pleased to find that my misfortune humors you my dear!" He said playfully. "It isn't often that I confess such things, and then to be mocked!" He was laughing.
"Oh come now my dear husband, you yourself would find it utterly amusing if you'd heard the story second-hand would you not?" She was smiling at him as they continued to stroll along. She stretched just slightly. Her back had become increasingly tender in recent weeks.
Erik looked down at her, catching the look in her eye. "My dear," he smoothed his hand over her rapidly increasing mid-section. He bent at the knee scooping her up into his arms. She no longer resisted his codling, in part because the doctor had assured her that he was well enough, and in part because she knew it pleased him to do it.
Christine nestled her head into his chest. "Erik?" She looked out at the sea staring off into the distance.
"Hmmm?" Erik said as he kissed the side of her forehead. He walked into her favorite part of the garden where he'd had Lilly of the Valley planted, and it was even now in full bloom. He sat carefully down on the bench, perching Christine on his lap.
"When are you going to tell me the story?" She rubbed her cheek against the flesh of his chest. "Tell me the story of the statue that you brought here from my childhood home?" She tipped her head back to look into his eyes.
"That my dear is up to you. I've been waiting for you to ask." He looked down into her swirling eyes. The mid-afternoon summer sun made them sparkle with such radiance.
"It reminds me of my childhood. As our family grows, it makes me long for my father in ways that I couldn't have imagined." She began mindless running her hand across his chest. "Any trifle that I can find to make me feel closer to him, I should very much enjoy. I dare say our staff may have come to wonder about my mental acuity as of late." She chuckled. "I can only wonder what they must think when they see me standing in front of the clock, gently caressing the face of it, and mumbling under my breath." She smiled.
There was a long pleasant silence as they sat, she in his arms, his hand rubbing back and forth over her stomach. The heady scents of the flowers commingled with the fresh biting saltiness in the air from the sea as it gently wafted through the gardens made Christine inhale. "This is such a wonderful place Erik." She closed her eyes. The experience of being there engaged every sense she possessed. "I am sorry if I was most unpleasant when first we came here Erik."
"Christine, do not…" Erik quieted as Christine tilted her head back to look up into his eyes.
"Erik, you know I behaved in a most juvenile manner, you cannot deny it. My actions bordered on tantrum when we first arrived. I simply had it in my head that we would stay there in that most pleasant little city, readying the nursery, enjoying strolls in the park." She paused as she began running her hand over his chest again. Erik put his chin on the top of her head. "To have made the staff go through all of that work only to have them undo all of it…." Her voice trailed off. "It felt rather selfish to me in the first place. But I understand you were concerned, and I have come to love it here, though I do miss Meg and Madame Giry terribly."
Erik kissed the top of her head, a wide smile crossing his face. He'd hoped for Nadir's visit to be a surprise, but perhaps it would be the very thing she needed to lift her spirits. "It just so happens that we may have a certain gentleman visitor the day after the morrow."
Christine turned looking up at him. "But the doctor said he'd not be returning until Saturday." She said with a most convincing tone. She caught the glint in his eye. "Nadir?" she turned fully sitting up straight. Erik smiled at her. "Why didn't you tell me Erik?" She slid her arms around his neck squeezing him tightly.
Erik smiled at her, "I am telling you." He knew his feeble attempt would do little to satisfy her curiosity.
"Yes, you are telling me now, but you've known for some time have you not?" She stared at him with an eyebrow raised, a mischievous grin.
"I've known for a few days that is true." Erik wrapped his arms around her. "I wanted it to be a surprise for you my dear. His post arrived with the last shipment of goods from Chauesser." He kissed her forehead as he stood, setting her gently on her feet. He began to walk further down the path that he'd been working on all of the last several weeks. "Now my dear, you can see what it is that has kept us apart every morning." He smiled at Christine, her eyes sparkling in the sun. His entire world now revolved around caring for and pleasing this woman. He could only imagine she would approve of the improvements he had made in one path in particular.
"Where are we going Erik?" Christine's smile growing wider with every step they took.
Erik turned and looked over his shoulder as he led her. Christine had a flash to the very first time she'd followed him anywhere…that night…that night after her first public performance when he'd revealed himself to her. She blinked, her smile fading slightly.
Erik stopped, "is everything alright my dear?" He wanted only to surprise her, not fatigue her. There would be plenty of opportunities to share this with her. He'd only wished to share it with Nadir when he paid his call, but Christine would come first.
"Everything is wonderful Erik, it is simply that sometimes…I think…my mind wanders back to months ago when first you came to me." Christine said.
Erik turned back toward her, taking her into his arms, holding her close. "I think about those days as well my love. They come to me most oft in my dreams now." He titled her chin up with his forefinger. "How very grateful I am every day that you showed such bravery." He smoothed his hand along her jaw. "Had you not been so insistent, so imploring, I'd never have…"
Christine stretched on her toe tips placing a kiss on Erik's lips. "When one is in love…bravery has little influence. It is the force of love that drives our deeds, not our courage", she whispered into his lips, kissing him yet again.
Their lips parted, Christine leaning back, resting once more flat-footed, staring up at Erik whose eyes remained yet closed. "Erik?" Christine said.
"It is a memory….I'm saving it in my mind…right now…right here…in this moment." Erik opened his eyes looking down at Christine with such intensity. He slid his arms around her back, drawing her once more to him. "I close my eyes, it seems odd to you I know…but all of my most cherished memories were made in the dark. All of my music was written in the dark of the caverns. It is only when I close my eyes that I can emblazon memories in my mind." He leaned down placing a delicate kiss on her brow. "I want always to remember this moment, when we shared this most special memory together." Erik caught out of the corner of his eye as he saw Misty off in the distance climbing the stone stairs that led to the back of Courtland Manor. He smiled. Everything was in place now. He'd lead her the rest of the way down the path, explaining each stop along the way until finally they came to the place Christine had been most curious about, the place where the statue from her childhood garden even now sat.
"Erik I love you," she stretched again kissing his cheek, "I have always loved you," she kissed his other cheek, "will always love you," she kissed his lips, leaning away just an inch she said in a nearly breathless voice, "until my dying day I will love you." She pressed herself fully against him.
"Christine…" Erik uttered then took her fully into his arms. "Dear woman why must you affect me this way?" he growled, nestling his face against her neck beneath the long dark tresses of her hair.
Christine giggled, kissing his ear. "Now, what is it that you were going to show me my dear?"
Erik inhaled and exhaled slowly. "You toy with me now, but lest you wait my dear, it shall come to no good for you!" He laughed as he slipped his hand into hers leading her down the path.
"Where is it that you lead me dear sir?" Christine said playfully.
Erik grinned down at her once more, "do you not trust me my dear?"
The pair wandered off down the path, a discovery awaited Christine, one that Erik hoped would please her.
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Misty was once again back in the house. The pot of tea and a domed plate of scones had been placed on the small table with two chairs down in the small fern lined grotto. She could only assume they wanted their privacy for afternoon tea, to have it arranged in such an obscure place. She smiled. Monsieur Courtland seemed to do whatever he could think of to please Elizabeth. She only hoped she could one day be loved such as this woman was. She sighed as she came back in the back door of the manor leading into the kitchen. She'd retrieve a cup of tea and then retire to her room for a nap and a read. It was the sixth in a series of letters that she'd received from Andre and she could scarcely wait to read it. Posts came only once a week to Courtland Manor, but at least they had way to receive them at all without traveling into yet another City.
She wandered into her small room, moving directly over to the windows. The room had grown warm since last she was there having dressed in the dark that day. She'd risen to take care of so many things before the rest of the staff were even awake. Opening the windows she inhaled as the warm scented breezes wafted in. She reclined on the comfort of her bed rather than sit at her desk. Perhaps once relaxed she'd slumber for a few minutes until the dinner hour preparations would begin. She was tired, and her eyes grew heavy. She'd be asleep already had her excited anticipation bid her otherwise. She rolled over onto her stomach, sliding her finger beneath the red wax seal. She slid the parchment out into her hand, rolling over to her back she lifted and read.
Dear Misty,
I received your post late afternoon. I am penning this reply as I enjoy my supper in the privacy of my quarters. It was with a glad heart that I read that Monsieur Courtland and his wife were doing well. What joyous news that she will be delivering her first child in the fall of the year. It seems that the cradle that Lady C had delivered to their house will be very useful in the coming months. Furthermore it will require more of your time once the child arrives. It no doubt came as pleasant conversation that you shall be the child's governess. Your duties will no doubt change, making your trips into Chauesser a bit less frequent. Perhaps, with Monsieur Courtland's permission, I may pay an afternoon visit when you return to their home in Chauesser.
I was happy to learn that you've continued your reading with the book that I sent. It is no little wonderment that you've had time, amongst the business of moving the household back to the manor. It is, I understand, quite an ordeal each season to move one's household, though I've never had opportunity to do so. Lady C is perfectly content to spend her days perched above Chauesser. It is a very structured existence, open to little spontaneity, but it does provide a comfort in being predictable.
I've just finished the book that you leant to me. I'll be returning it with the next letter. It is rather a pleasure to share literature in this manner. One does not truly need to possess a good book. Once read, it is part of us forever more. I trust that you will find the same with the books that I've sent.
The weather grows warm here in Chauesser. Here on the hill there are breezes that cool the air when the sun begins to set. In the evening I push open my window just a fraction and listen to the chirping of the crickets. I am certain that it is warm where you are as well. Perhaps tonight when you retire for the evening, you can push your window open and listen to the crickets, and think of me…as I do you.
It was my intention to mention early on in this note that we have news that may be of interest to Monsieur Courtland. Sebastian has been brought up on charges, and it was determined that he will be tried in a court in Paris, as it seems that his crimes extend far beyond that of those he committed there. It was apparent from what was found as remnants that he and his accomplice peddled in rare art…rare stolen art to be more exact. Upon investigation they are finding more and more connection to distant lands. The situation may grow to quite enormous implications for the man, especially with his partner not having been found. I shall update you when I can on this issue.
There has been further movement on the issue of the undertaker. Lady C, as I mentioned in my last letter, has given final ultimatum to the man. We shall see what comes of it. She is showing considerable strength and patience in this matter, though a much swifter conclusion would have been preferable. We've had quite a time finding an undertaker to come to Chauesser to help finish the young man's apprenticeship. I do believe we are closer now than we'd been when last I'd writ. As fate would have it there is an excellent undertaker from Paris who is considering Lady C's offer. He is none other than the father to the young doctor that has now called Chauesser home since his grandfather's passing. He's a good reputation, and I do believe that Lady C's offer might be more than he makes in the three months that it would require of him to complete the young man's apprenticeship. It seems he shan't mind being in the same City with his son for a few months, especially the pleasant summer ones. I shall share more with you on this matter once agreements have been reached.
It might be of particular interest to you that Nicole, the young woman whose grandmother was rescued by your employer, has found happiness in the company of said doctor. The pair have spent a great deal of time together with her mother since the grandmother's passing. If one did not know better, one would say they were already family, as much time as the three spend in one another's company! It has been a point of pleasure for Lady C that such a fine young woman be able to find happiness, even if it is, as the trio all proclaim, to be an arrangement of convenience. You see Nicole's mother is not well, and is in need of ever increasing care. It may very well be for the convenience of all concerned, as Nicole is tending his house and smallish office for him, and he in turn is caring for her mother. Regardless of the circumstances, it is wonderful to see how they are in support of one another. Lady C has said she shan't be surprised if there would be an announcement of engagement on their behalf.
The night wanes now, and my dinner has grown cold. I prefer to think of our exchanges of posts as visits, and I've no doubt that if I were in your company even now that I shan't be able to focus on my meal anymore than I am now able. My thoughts of you have proven to be quite a distraction I'm afraid. I look forward to your return in the fall. There is much to enjoy in Chauesser that time of year, not the least of which are rides through the orchards after the leaves begin to turn. I shall be happy to be your escort when you return.
In sincerest affection, Andre
Misty inhaled sharply, she'd not even noticed at what point during her reading she'd begun to hold her breath. She rolled back over to her stomach, reaching out for her cup she took a long drink. She smiled widely, running her hand over the sheets of parchment that lay open on the bed. She'd read it again, just as she had all of the others before it. She propped herself up on her elbows, staring out the window as the breezes fluttered the curtains in her room. She couldn't recall a time where she'd felt happier. There was love in the air no matter where she seemed to look. She smiled wider just thinking of the surprise that Monsieur Courtland had planned for Elizabeth. He was always thoughtful of his wife, and forever doting. Truly a man of his wealth did not have to toil each day for his keep so it was hard to compare his attentions and affections to what a normal man might offer, but it was the sweetest things she'd ever born witness to none the less.
Misty took another sip from her cup, stretching to put it back in the saucer, she rolled once more to her back. Her nap could wait. She'd re-read every word, slowly, as she imagined he had penned it. A broad smile crossed her face as she lifted the pages yet again. This would be like the others, every word memorized as if written in indelible ink in her mind.
XXXXX
Paris had grown hot and muggy, a bit unusual so early in the season. The seamstress had kept the windows shuttered to keep out the heat of the noon-day sun. She moved over to the window to open the shutters; the warmth of the light being her guide. She found herself laughing recalling that night so long ago when she had found herself in the cellar with the young man, and smiled then further, thinking of how she'd shared the story with his wife. She stood in the window as the breeze began to waft into the room, cooling the sweat on her skin just slightly so as to dry it. She found herself day-dreaming and wondering how they were faring. She so hoped that Elizabeth was feeling well and that the early summer heat had not made the experience of carrying their children any less joyous. She sighed, moving away from the window, back down the corridor. She'd a number of garments to finish before the day was done. Business had been swift this spring, and though she'd missed the company, she'd had much to occupy her time, just as she knew they did.
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"And a bottle of Chateau LeFet good sir." Nadir nodded to the man as he handed him the daily menu. He hardly had to look at it, as he had rather become a regular at the Starboard at least thrice a week. He laid the menu on the linen clothed table, looking over at his dinner companion. "So will it be the salad with goat cheese and pine nuts for you today my dear?" He smiled, taking a sip from his water glass. "I know how you enjoy it so."
Madame Giry smiled back at him. "I think today I shall have the tureen of wild mushroom soup', she said as she leaned back while the waiter laid her napkin across her lap. "And you sir, let me guess, the salmon with scallop mousse?" She smiled at Nadir across the table. Nadir returned her glance.
Their conversations had become so comfortable. The months of undivided attention had eased their former reservations, taking down remaining walls of hesitancy. They'd grown quite accustomed to dining together in public, removing any doubt that the two were fond of one another. The Starboard had become a frequent location for joining for lunch especially. It had been at the Patron's behest that Madame Giry had agreed. He had want to not only take good care of his prized ballet mistress, but also had want to make her presence very visible in Parisian society so that the socialites would feel assured that the progress on reopening the Opera Populaire was well on its way. If the ballet mistress was out and about, looking happy and content, then so would the others be. Though she'd tried to refuse it, she knew DeChagny was not only clever, but a shrewd businessman. Nearly everything in a society such as what existed in the Parisian aristocracy was about appearance, and no one understood the nuisances better than DeChagny. Nadir of course was encouraged to accompany Madame Giry, as he had been officially employed as the Opera House historian and was in charge of researching the heritage of some of the well known local families. There was to be a portion of the Opera House that would be used for formal tea parties that was to be decorated with family crests, and other artifacts and items of interest regarding the families commonly viewed to have had a hand in shaping the propriety of Paris. For historian to accompany the ballet mistress only made good business sense. Continuity was key, and the more visible the better.
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Meg lay down the book she'd been reading when she saw Raoul walk into the parlor. "Darling you've woken from your afternoon's rest so soon?" She said rising to greet him properly.
"I do not know if you or the Barron are worse. You both act as if I'm as fragile as an egg!" Raoul said with a slight though playful irritation in his voice.
Meg turned her head down slightly. It had nearly become a daily ritual. She showed concern, he feigned irritation, she hurt, and then there was the reconciliatory kiss.
"Seriously Meg, I do worry for how you worry for me. Surely a young lady has other things to occupy herself." He looked over his shoulder hoping to see the typical catalogs that his sister had sent for her for the summer fashions opened, Meg having perused them. He glanced over at the table, they were still neatly piled just where Madeline had put them for Meg's convenience weeks before. He looked in the chair where Meg had been sitting. There on the spine he read the title of the book "Parisian history 1700 to Modern Day". He looked back at Meg a little frown on his face. "My dear, a lady ought to be looking at what dresses and new hair pieces she might like, not reading of dry history! When we return to Paris, you'll want to look a fashion plate, like the lady you've become." He leaned down kissing Meg's cheek. He smoothed his thumb along it, one could barely see the cut, and then only when Meg was overly warm.
Meg smiled up at Raoul. He was as always, far more concerned with what he thought a young lady should want, then on what she herself felt was important. "My dear, I'll not see to your having a wife that is uneducated in the history of a City that is so very important to her husband's family. I've intentions of reading everything I might get my hands on whilst we are here. An uneducated woman is of little use other than rearing children, and I want to be far more than that to you my love." She pecked his cheek. "Children grow and move on, I want to be of some interest to you once our children have been raised."
It amazed Meg still how oft and how freely that either she or Raoul would bring into conversation of their future life together as husband and wife. Though no proper or formal engagement had yet been announced, for all practical purposes, and for the ways that mattered most to she and Raoul, they were already betrothed to one another. The remainder of their courtship would be merely for show now for Parisian society.
Meg had heard through Madeline with conversations from other servants in Raoul's employee that were still near Paris, that story was told of how Meg was off with Raoul, being chaperoned and groomed to be a proper wife for a man of his standing. Whilst it was not entirely untrue, as his sister made weekly visits to bring Meg up to speed on the goings on in Paris and the rest of the world, as well as educate her on what was and was not acceptable or in vogue in the City, it still was an irritation to her. She was educating herself, with Raoul and the Baron's guidance on politics, history, mathematics, the sciences, and other matters. She was as determined as she could be to fashion herself into someone that Raoul could be proud of though he insisted it mattered little to him.
His father was truly more approving of it than Raoul, seeming to take great pleasure in quizzing Meg whenever he'd visit, and even greater pleasure when he was unable to stump her. In spite of himself and his first preconceived notions of her, he'd grown rather fond of Meg. He'd little doubt that she would be a far more devoted wife than any other woman that Raoul could have possible suited in Paris. He admired her tenacity, and her eagerness to please not only Raoul, but the society that he seemed to have little real fearful regard for. Every week he'd send Meg clipping from newspapers from Paris, London, and on occasion the Americas. If she was determined to become educated on current affairs, he was determined to help her, for it could only further his pride in the wife Raoul would one day take.