Dear Faithfuls: I am so sorry that there was such a delay, and I regret that I will not be able to update until next Tuesday. After returning to the story, I fell very ill and was unable to focus on little else but my temperature! I promise next Tuesday's chapter will be a bit longer, and a bit more telling of what has transpired for our favorite couples.
Christine smiled as the greenery grew thicker and thicker, and she could feel by degree how the temperature cooled as the path led into a fern and vine covered grotto. "Erik?" she said trying to focus her eyes from the bright sun into the refreshing dimness of the place where he finally released her hand.
Erik walked over to a small sea-shell encrusted wall that contained a tiny candelabra. Christine could see something on a hook just below the candles as Erik struck a match to bring light to the small room created entirely by vine, branch, and bough. Her eyes lit up as they regained their focus. There in this haven was the statue off to one side, a small table with two chairs in the middle, and the carefully constructed altar. What she saw on the hook below the candles made her breath catch in her throat. There on one hook was the picture that she'd had in the chapel in the Opera House, the one of her father. Next to it was picture she'd not seen before but instinctively knew was her mother. She turned to Erik, her heart beating wildly in her chest.
Erik smiled at her as he came up behind her embracing her, kissing her cheek. "I thought in these coming months that you might wish to spend time with your mother and father. I am told it is when a young woman becomes a mother herself that she appreciates and needs her own parents the most. If it were possible for me to return them to you, I'd move heaven and earth to do it. This my dear, is as close as I might come, and it is my hope and prayer that it brings you some comfort and happiness."
Christine could feel the tears rolling down her cheek. They quickly chilled in the cool air as she brushed them away. "But where did you ever, how did you…." Her voice trailed off as she made her way over to one of the chairs beside the table.
Erik helped to settle her in. "Yes my dear, I knew that you would want to know, and I furthermore thought we might spend the afternoon here. Have a cup of tea, and I shall tell you all you wish to know of it my love." He poured Christine a cup. A plate of petite scones lay between them.
Christine inhaled. The greenery itself seemed to be alive with scents of the earth. Something about this place already felt like home. She sipped from her cup, returning it to its saucer, looking at Erik with eager eyes. "Tell me the story Erik, tell me all of it."
"Very well my dear." He reached out his hand, running his index finger beneath her chin. "It was the winter you first arrived at the Opera House. One night during conversation with Madame Giry we came upon that the following spring your father's estate was to be sold. It troubled her immensely that all of his things would be sold and you were far too young then to be able to make use of any of them. If she'd still had her home she'd have had some of the items taken there, but she'd no place other than the Opera House so it was not possible." Erik looked at Christine. She was listening as intently as a young child to a fairytale. "You see my dear that is when first Nadir entered your life, though you'd not know it. I sent post to him with instructions of what in particular I sought. You see your father had told Madame Giry of the statue, and you'd enjoyed it so. It took Nadir some time to locate the estate, and make arrangements for the statue, but once he had, it was brought safely here. Though I must tell you he'd questioned my intentions, why would I go to such lengths for an orphan." Erik shook his head, "In my former life, I'm afraid, compassion was not one of my defining attributes. I'd not been able to answer him directly, other than I knew what pain it was to have everything removed from one's childhood making it as if it had never happened at all."
Erik looked down sadly, then up again at Christine, her eyes were glowing in admiration. He smiled. "So that is how this angel came to Courtland Manor my dear, and here," he glanced over at the angel illuminated by the glow of the several candles he'd lit, "and here she shall stay to watch over you and guide you, just as your father intended."
Christine's lips were trembling. "Oh Erik, how can one woman be so fortunate to be loved such as I?" She reached out her hand taking his.
"Christine, Christine…you are worthy of this and far more my love. You saw the man behind the monster, loved the repulsive carcass, who seemed a beast but secretly dreamed of beauty. You saw me in my loneliness, loved me through my darkest hours. Your very presence has brought me every joy in my life. What little token of gratitude this is for you, is only the beginning of the debt my soul owes you." He lifted her hand kissing her knuckles.
Christine was nearly speechless. She was still humbled by his words, even after all of this time. He still did not understand that she felt indebted to him. And then she smiled, perhaps it was this very stalemate that made the pair a perfect match, for they loved beyond reason, and without reservation, and with their whole hearts open and bleeding.
"What of the pictures Erik….the picture of my mother?" Christine's eyes wandered to it. It had been a very long while since she'd gazed upon a picture of her mother, and it was startling how very much she looked like her.
Erik smiled, running his hand over Christine's. "That was much more simple my dear. Madame Giry had this picture amongst her things at the Opera House. She knew that one day that the picture would be given you, when in time you began to ask about your mother. After the fire, Madame Giry had taken it away from the Opera House and brought it here to Courtland Manor when she came to stay during my recuperation. It seemed only fitting to me that the picture joined that of your father in this place."
Erik looked round, it was as he wanted it to be. "In this place Christine, I hope that you can spend time with your mother and father whenever you like." He turned Christine's palm over and traced a small heart her hand. "This is a place of love my dear. I shan't have ever known your parents, and in truth I can only hope that they'd have approved of our love. But somehow here, I feel we can all be together." He leaned down kissing her hand. His eyebrow raised slightly, as one further surprise was yet unannounced, "this very table and chairs," Erik said smoothing his hand over the table, "I understand from Madame Giry was your mother's favorite place to sit in the morning, it too came from your father's estate."
Christine looked down at the table. She did not remember it, but then again there was nothing particularly remarkable about it. It was standard black wrought iron. Perhaps her father had hesitated to use it after her mother's passing, whatever the case, she was entirely pleased that she'd now be able to sit at it as her mother had so many years ago.
And then there was silence. Erik watched as Christine rose, walking over to the pictures of her mother and father. She began to kneel, if however awkwardly due to her expanding waistline. Erik quickly coming to her aid, knelt next to her. She stared deeply into his eyes, glancing back and forth between the pictures and his loving gaze. In that moment it felt as if an introduction was taking place, as if Christine was taking Erik into a world that had long been hers alone. She reached out clasping his hand as she took a long match from the cylinder and touched it to the glowing flame of the candle Erik had lit. As it burst into flame the glow illuminated her face, and in it he saw the small girl he'd come to love years before. She squeezed his hand slightly as she lit the candles above her father, and then hesitated staring down at the picture of her mother. A single tear ran down her cheek dropping to her chest as she lit the candle above her mother. She lowered her head to pray, and so did Erik.
Several minutes passed and Erik raised his head opening his eyes to see Christine staring at him. He smiled at her. She went to rise and he stood assisting her. Without a word he wrapped her up in his arms, she nestling her head into his chest. They stood a very long while in an embrace until a sudden abrupt movement between them made them both take pause. Erik smiled at Christine looked at him in wonder.
"Was that?" Erik said as a wide smile grew across Christine's face.
"Yes my love, that was your son!" she said reaching up with her lips to grace his.
"Christine, Christine, we shan't start that again shall we? We could very well be welcoming three beautiful daughters into this world!" Erik said smoothing his hand over her stomach.
"Or three handsome sons!" Christine retorted. She reached down clasping his hand, drawing him near her once more. "Thank you Erik….thank you from the bottom of my heart. No greater love have I ever known than that which you have shone me. The love of my father was strong to be sure, but this love…" she passed her other hand over her heart and then rested her palm over his, "this love is far greater still, and I am a blessed woman to have been chosen to be your wife."
Erik's eyes filled with tears of joy. No matter how many times she would tell him how grateful she was, he would feel that and more in gratitude for she having rescued him.
XXX
Misty had fallen off to sleep, the letter lay open on her chest. She was soon dreaming of a ride in the orchard as autumn descended upon Chauesser. She saw herself riding in an open carriage next to Andre as he was explaining what they passed to her. She heard little of his words as she was enamored with the glow in his eye, and the square of his jaw. He could have been telling her any tale he pleased as his voice itself seemed to carry a melody all its own. In her sleep she smiled. A more pleasant dream on a warm summer's afternoon could not be had.
XXXX
Raoul's staff had been dutifully maintaining his estate as if he were to arrive at any moment. Indeed his father had given them fair warning not days before, that it shan't be long until he would return to his home.
They'd spent these last days tidying up the growing greens of the lawn, and manicuring with tedious care, the foliage that surrounded the house proper. Each trellis had need to be inspected and repaired, and then the laborious task of rewinding the new growth of the vines, and stripping away the old dead branches would begin. First they'd groom the grounds below and then begin that task.
With Madeline absent these months, another of Raoul's staff had been appointed to be overseer of all things in her stead. It was that very afternoon, long after tea, but yet before supper that one of the gardeners presented her with something he'd found in the lawn. It was a worn and weathered envelope, seeming to be a collection of written papers. Due to the condition of them he'd not tried to open it himself. Not sure if it were something to discard, he'd brought it in to her for review. If it were something of importance, he'd not be the one responsible for destroying it.
She flipped the envelope over several times. It was still damp, and mold had grown on the exterior. She carefully opened the envelope only to see that the pages inside were also damp, and by the color she could tell that the ink had bled, and even there mold had begun to grow. She laid it aside, contemplating. Her eyebrows raised, she'd known of a book in the library that dealt with the handling of old documents, perhaps it would lend a bit of advice as to how to best care for what had been found. She'd no idea if it was something that needed rescuing or not, but it was her place now, in Raoul's absence, to make such decisions, and she'd prefer to err on the side of caution rather than lose something of importance. She rose at once to retrieve it. And there it sat, a document that could forever change the world they'd all been living in…if its secrets were revealed.
XXXX
The waiter laid the dome-covered platters down in front of Nadir and Madame Giry. There was the moment of presentation that was always a pleasant event as the covers were removed. Nadir nodded, and the waiter took the superfluous utensils from the table.
"The salmon looks divine Nadir," Madame Giry said as she dipped her spoon into the tureen to fill her shallow soup dish.
"As does your soup Antoinette." Nadir said, stealing a peek into her tureen.
Madame Giry smiled. He used her first name sparingly, and only when in private conversation, and it pleased her to hear him utter it. There was something about his brogue that made it seem a bit mysterious. Madame Giry glanced around the room. Their presence had become such a common occurrence that aside from the polite nod of recognition, they were paid no more attention than any of the other diners.
"You must taste this Nadir, it is simply wonderful." She extended her hand towards him, he handing her his spoon. She dipped it into the soup, carefully running the edge along the rim of her bowl. As she extended the spoon once more to him, she expected him to reach out and take the spoon, but he surprised her by leaning forward and supping the soup from the spoon itself. A great blush overcame Madame Giry as Nadir lifted the spoon from her hand, placing it face down on his plate.
"You are most correct my dear, the soup is entirely lovely." He said, smiling at her slyly. He'd not really thought about the action, it just seemed natural to him. Though to any onlooker they might have taken a different bent as to his inclinations. Nadir cleared his throat. "Would you like a sample of my…"
Madame Giry did not look up, she was fiddling with the napkin in her lap. She swallowed, she felt flushed.
Nadir sat quietly eating his salmon, paying attention only to his food. He'd not meant to cause her any embarrassment. He felt so very comfortable in her presence, and had they been dining alone in her quarters as they did so many evenings as of late, it would not have been a faux pas. But in public, their affections needed to be a bit more reserved lest the rumor mill begin running in a direction they could not control.
Eventually Madame Giry looked up and returned to eating her soup. The waiter had come to dutifully refill her water glass, and clear Nadir's plate which he'd emptied in short order. A few minutes later he returned with a snifter of brandy and a press of hot coffee.
"Madame Giry, what is it that you shall be doing with your afternoon? With the chorus girls on afternoon break due to the warmth, I thought perhaps that you and I should very much like to take a carriage ride through the royal gardens. I hear that nearly everything is in bloom." Nadir watched as Madame Giry's gaze rose to meet his.
"I suppose an outing such as that would be most pleasant. Indeed I think the girls are going for a swim this afternoon. A perfect thing for a day such as this. I've entrusted their safekeeping to Gwendoline for the afternoon. Being a bit younger, she will be much more inclined to their tomfoolery than I." She smiled at Nadir.
"Then it is set." Nadir looked around the room until he caught the eye of the young bellman, he gave him a nod. Nadir had prearranged the ride, and having received her consent, it was settled.
He hoped to explain to her on their ride that he'd be leaving on the morrow to pay a visit to Erik and Christine. He'd not broached the subject with her up until now, lest she give it undue worry. As historian, his movements would not be questioned. The trip would be in the name of research, and indeed, that was his intentions. He'd recently learned of the undertaker's relation to the young doctor in Chauesser. It was yet piece in the puzzle that connected Chauesser to Paris. If the Perdue from Paris was the son of the doctor from Chauesser, and even now the doctor's grandson was practicing there, it could prove to be of some benefit. He'd already come to know the undertaker, and perhaps that would somehow give him access to the grandson. What he hoped to find he wasn't certain, but one never knew what one could find given the opportunity to.
The waiter returned once more clearing away Madame Giry's tureen, and soup plate, and in its place he'd brought two stemmed glasses of vanilla sorbet. It was a perfect end to a perfect meal…and a perfect beginning to what she assumed would be a most pleasant afternoon.
XXXXXX
Raoul walked over to Meg, taking the book from her hand and laying it face down on the settee. "If you're so determined to be educated my dear, then let us endeavor to learn more than the waltz." He lifted her to her feet.
Meg smiled as she put her hand in his, her right in his left raised to the height of their shoulders extended beyond them in a point. The other hand rested on his shoulder, his hand on her waist. They'd, as always, start with a waltz.
At some point during the music Raoul would hum, the tempo would shift and become more lively. The most recent addition to Raoul's staff had been a maid that had come from Buenos Aires. She'd spoken of a new vision of music and dance that was growing in popularity, though it had yet to be embraced outside of the region. She'd demonstrated some of the steps with her husband, causing both Meg and Raoul to blush, but yet it intrigued them. It seemed rather cosmopolitan for the proper City of Paris, but then change oft did come on the wings of foreigners, and so would it be with this. Raoul had so hoped that they would learn more of it before the ball that would be arranged with the reopening of the Opera House. For he'd so intended to reintroduce Meg as a cultured woman, and one of intrigue in her own right. As he began to spin her round and round in the parlor, learning to avoid the tables and couches, he smiled.
She seemed to him much like a playmate, and yet was a beautiful woman. He learned these last months to focus on what pleased him, and push aside the unpleasant memories of a past that haunted him. His memories had become clouded and convoluted to the point he was uncertain what had been real and what his tortured mind had fabricated for convenience. He trusted they Barron implicitly, and through his care and Meg's love, he'd come to terms with what the truth had been. When he returned to Paris he would humbly accept the honor that awaited him, though the veracity would forever be in question in his own mind. If those who cared most for him assured him it was true, then he'd no reason to show doubt of it.
Meg and Raoul had moved gracefully round the parlor several times before in the small distance from the parlor to the library could be heard the soft tinkering of a piano. The maid had come to play for them, and now they smiled at one another. Perhaps they'd never quite come to be able to do all of what had been showed them, they most certainly could embrace the rhythm and the tempo. Raoul smiled at Meg, sliding his hand more securely around her waist, pulling her torso closer to his. She blushed. It was all part of the dance, though she knew the eyebrows would raise in Paris when first they saw it, but perhaps one day, it would become the fashion. For now it was something that she and Raoul enjoyed, and the doctor encouraged. The more intricate the movements, and the length of time they danced, the more Raoul seemed to heal, and that after all was the entire reason they'd come to Plum house in the first.
XXXXX
Lady C was out in the gardens. A large black parasol provided adequate shade to her porcelain skin. She'd tired of being indoors and today she was feeling a bit restless. She'd walked through the gardens identifying all of the plants and foliage by name. It was a little pleasure of hers thought it really made them no more or less beautiful to the eye.
She looked up as she saw Andre making his way down the path. He'd abandoned his formal top coat indoors, no doubt because of the heat. She smiled at him pleasantly. He'd long been a most faithful servant to her, and she'd admired that he'd not requested to be relieved in part of his duties so that he might find a wife. Surely a man of his age would be thinking of such things, though he seemed to be entirely content to be at her service. As he came along side her, he nodded, "good day your grace," he smiled, extending his arm to her. She took it as he escorted her to the small table and chairs in the midst of the coolest part of the garden.
"I've arranged for you to have tea here, if that meets with your approval." He looked at her for confirmation. She nodded. "The staff were able to bring up some ice from the chest in the hill. I do wonder that there is still some remaining there, but I though you might like to have some chilled tea with mint on such an afternoon." He smiled again as he pulled out the chair for her.
In the background Lady C could hear the tinking of the pitcher and glasses that were making their way down the path. "Andre, would you care to join me?"
He nodded, he'd send the maid back for another glass and plate. "They've a lovely lemon cake for you Lady C, it seemed a perfect accompaniment to the tea."
Soon the maid returned with the second glass, as Lady C and Andre had settled in to pleasant conversation. That specific spot in the garden was perfect. It overlooked Chauesser and yet seemed far removed from the world. The spot beheld the most gentle breezes that wafted over the hills making it refreshing to mind and spirit alike.
Andre laid down his silver fork, having taken his first bite of cake. It was, as the cook had promised, a delight. He smiled at Lady C. "Thank you, this is most kind. It is a lovely place to tarry on a warm afternoon."
She nodded. She'd never been one known to mince words, nor hold back what she was thinking, but with this young man she'd felt a bit different. She'd want to broach the subject just so that he'd neither be offended nor feel pressured. It required a degree of subtle eloquence. She inhaled, and began.
"Andre, you have been in my faithful service now for a good number of years, and I've come to rely on you in the most delicate of situations." She glanced at him, no sign yet that he felt uncomfortable, that was good. "During these years I've oft enjoyed your humor, appreciated your candor, and marveled at the poise you've so oft shown." She took a sip of tea, looking out on the City.
"Chauesser is a most wonderful City, and one for which I have the greatest affection. There are a number of good families there now, and if Monsieur Courtland and his wife return in the fall, I've no doubt that the City shall continue to flourish. There needs to be good influence in the City, and companions for the young families that are growing in number. Good examples of sound family life, of good values, of good character." She glanced over at Andre. He too was staring out at the City the same look of fondness that she herself felt in his eyes.
"Andre, I've thought a great while of ways to attract good families to our City, and it occurred to me, that we have under our own roof, those who might very well like to settle in the City itself rather than live in the servants quarters." She glanced over at him. He as yet showed any sign that he knew of her inclinations. "It would be only a short carriage ride for staff to travel back and forth, and truly once the sun begins to set, they aren't needed here, lest there be some great event which we are planning for."
Andre turned his head. He wondered at what she was suggesting.
Lady C smiled at him. "Andre have you yourself thought of perhaps taking up residence in the City? At some point, your service to me will come to an end, and I should want for you to have a place within the City should you desire to remain here."
Andre turned fully to gaze upon her. "You are well are you not my Lady?" A true tone of concern in his voice. She'd been like a mother to him.
She laughed, "yes, yes, quite well I assure you. I am, however, not growing younger with each passing day, and one day, you shall have need for a different place to live. If you were to consider settling in Chauesser it might be wise even now to consider if not a house, then perhaps some property on which to build one day." She glanced over at him, he was now staring at her, a hint of awareness now showing through.
"I've several parcels of land within the City that I shall be more than pleased to bequeath to you, in gratitude for your service to me." She did not even look lest she see protest in his eyes. "It is common knowledge that I've no siblings, nor heirs of my own to leave my estate to, and most would likely know that it will be for the benefit of the City of Chauesser, and several other small hamlets that my estate would come to. But in lieu of all those things, I have several others to whom I feel indebted, and you are among them sir." She paused, the next would be a bit more tricky, and knowing no other way, she came out with it forthright. "One day Andre I should think that you might have desire for a family of your own." Again, she'd not look in his direction. "It comes as little surprise to me that in your service here, there has been little opportunity for you to find anyone of either suitable age or breeding." She sighed, what would she say if this were her own son? "Andre, outside of pride in a job well done, there is a debt to oneself to make one happy. To find love and embrace it is a rare and wonderful thing. Having myself not known of the joys of marriage, I can duly council on the sorrows of having missed it." She sighed. "It is my intention that you sir, should not miss this. You have come to such an age that this must cross your mind. I should like very much for you to have opportunity to pursue a life beyond the one you have known here. We could arrange for a ball of sorts, something of a summer celebration, where you might perhaps have opportunity to meet…" she glanced over at Andre. He was blushing. Perhaps she had gone far beyond his comfort. "Andre, I do apologize if I've been too…" she paused, he'd turned to her.
"In truth dear Lady, I have given it some thought. If I might be so bold as to share…" he looked to her for assurance. She nodded. "There was a chance meeting some months ago at of all places the undertaker's establishment." He paused. It was the first he had verbalized his feelings to anyone. "A young lady, one in the employ of Monsieur Courtland."
Lady C's eyes lit up. "Misty?"
Andre nodded. "She's a quite intelligent young woman. We've exchanged several letters over the past months, and I have reason to believe that her feelings for me are growing as are mind for her." Andre was blushing. "Nothing has been discussed of course, and I've sent no letter of intention, for I'd not even considered it. But should that opportunity ever exist for us…" his voice trailed off. It seemed implausible that an arrangement could be made that would be suitable for both Lady C and Monsieur Courtland.
Lady C smiled and sighed. "I can assure you young man, that people are far more important to me than possessions. If such arrangements can be made, it would be good reason for the two household to come together for a proper dinner. Perhaps that would allow for conversation that may lead to far more." She smiled at Andre, tapping him on the knee. "It is good to see that you and I are of like minds. It gives my heart happiness to know that you have considered this Andre, much happiness." She patted his knee again.
Andre's heart had begun to pound. It was the first time in a great while he'd thought of himself. If Lady C would offer her blessing, and Misty would accept a letter of intention, then perhaps his future would hold far more than a life of happy servitude to this most gracious woman.
The pair sat for a long while sipping their tea in silence. It had been a most pleasant afternoon…a most pleasant one indeed.