Dunny, KayBlueEyes, Pertie, littledaae, and all who bless me with reviews, Erik has a big kiss for you all. This chapter won't rate an M rating as promised because I've decided to include all of the smut in the next one. But you'll enjoy the passion play here. In the words of the great 80's poet Tone Loc "Let' do it..."
Re-cap: The Roux's daughter comes to visit. Gabrielle decides to be a man for a night so she and Caron can go clubbing in Paris...
Ch 16 - Fate
Caron informed her mother that she wished to visit cousin Meg in Paris. Mdm. Roux had no reservations about a jaunt to the city since her daughter would have an older woman as a chaperone.
A letter was swiftly penned to Meg. We would like to visit in seven days. My party threads would be done and delivered by then.
As much as I was looking forward to our impending walk on the wild side, butterflies danced in my stomach at the thought of navigating the Parisian nightlife. Being caught by the dually stern Mdm. Roux and M. DuPuis was also cause for unease. I pushed the thought deep within my gray matter.
We had Mdm. Roux's full blessing, "Your cousin Meg will be delighted to see you dear. I know it has been some time since you have been able to visit Paris. Mdm. Gabrielle should enjoy the excursion as well—she does not socialize much I am afraid. Perhaps Meg can treat you to a night at the Opera. It is season, although I'm afraid I have not kept up with their performance schedule."
"Oh yes mother, that is a lovely thought isn't it Gabrielle?" Caron flashed me a coy smile.
"Lovely, indeed I have never seen an opera performed in Paris. I am sure it is sublime, especially if your niece is performing Mdm," I flattered.
Mdm. Roux spent the next thirty minutes describing to me the grand spectacle that was the internationally renowned Opera Garnier. She regaled me with images of the building's façade and grand staircase; the entire structures opulence, the elaborate costumes and realistic sets. She assured me that the singers possessed unequaled prowess and of course, the was the stupendous ballet headed by her sister, Antoinette Giry.
I listened with genuine fascination. Mdm. Roux was not aware her words described history in the making. I couldn't help but feel a bit ornery; so I prodded her to see how much she really knew about the Paris opera house.
"The Paris opera House sounds grand Marie, by the way, is there any truth to that rumor of the Phantom of the Opera?" A friend of mine from the Junior League had been in Paris during the spring of 1871. She and her husband had tickets to the opera while they were here, but there was a fire and the opera was out of commission for several months.
They told me there were rumors of a man who inhabited the opera, a disfigured genius who had stolen a soprano. It was in all the newspapers. That's an astonishing tale Marie. Is there any merit to it?
Marie Roux's complexion turned an interesting shade of ecru; her expression had me in mind of a horse that is not sure he wants to be ridden.
"There was a romantic triangle between a girl and two suitors, yes. There was also a rumor of a ghost, but you know how those stories are, they serve as myths meant to frighten children and raise ticket sales. An opera ghost, really, how absurd."
"Forgive my curiosity Madame, but I had heard that a man did live in the fifth cellar of the opera house? Your sister worked there then did she not Marie, perhaps she has some fantastic stories to tell?"
"No there are no stories to tell—nothing! I do hope you do not question Antoinette when you are in Paris Gabrielle, it would only upset her." Marie sounded vexed.
"Of course Madame, I would not wish to be rude and insensititive. Still, something must have transpired if everyone is so closed mouthed about the incident," I mused.
Ha! If looks could kill I I'd have been potting soil yesterday.
Three more days, that's all there was left to wait until Caron and I hit the mean streets of Paris. That 1980's hit by Cyndi Lauper kept cycling round in my head; Girls Just Wanna Have fu-unnn!
Paris in the 1800's had always fascinated me and I was eager to check out some of the places I had frequented when I lived there for a year in 1999. To trot down the Champs Elysees in a horse drawn carriage and listen to the musicians of the café's while painters and philosophers and royal wanna-bees posed for one another's benefit enchanted my day dreams.
My partner and I would dine at the le Grand Café Capucines. There would be dancing or the Ballet or opera. Our evening of frolicking would cumulate with the luxurious accommodations at the Le Relais du Louvre, a fabulous 18th century Hotel. Naturally I envisioned my fantasy shared with a handsome Monsieur, not as one.
Erik was on board with the excursion as well, "Gabrielle, I am pleased that you have an opportunity to get out and socialize. Being cooped up is a challenge to the sanity of most. You will be in good hands. Madame Roux has a trustworthy family. If not for her dear sister, I may have ceased to exist long ago. Not that I am always sure saving my sorry hide was a blessing."
"Oh put a lid on the pity party Erik. If not for Madame Giry saving yours you would not have been able to save mine Erik. It's what we call passing it on."
"A good deed for a lifetime I am sure," he smirked.
"Watch it dude, I could be the next Empress of France, then you'd have to be really, really nice to me."
"God save us," he taunted in return.
I plopped onto the floor next to his piano in the music room gathering my skirts around me and tilted my head to watch him. Erik was writing down notes on parchment and conversing to me simultaneously.
"Erik, I know you are preparing to travel to London on business tomorrow, I would be honored if you would take me with you sometime. Naturally I would stay out of your way. It would just be nice to go somewhere else once in a while and I know you know your way around. We could get a carriage and you could show me the sights, " I suggested cheerfully, hoping that he would see how effortless this could be for him.
Erik continued putting notes to parchment while he spoke, "Why in the world would you want to be seen with me?"
"Well why in the world would I not?"
He sighed heavily and put down his pen. Turing to me he said, "Gabrielle, you are not a mindless nit, surely you realize that I am not the best of company for a young lady."
"Squirrel-shit Erik," I retorted. I love spending time with you. You are clever, truculent and aloof; therefore I find you infinitely interesting."
"Damn it Gabrielle, you do not realize who or what I am do you?"
"Well then, why don't you elaborate on that theme Erik? I would love to know more about you."
He laughed bitterly, "Oh no dear, you would not like Erik if you knew the true man. I am a vile, hateful man who loathes humanity. Then there is this!" He jabbed a finger at his face.
"Look Erik," I said in a tender voice, you and I have been down this path already. I so do not care what your face looks like. I know we would have a good time hanging out together. Please have an open mind about this," I continued to plead.
"Could you handle the stares and cruel comments from everyone everywhere we went? Pointing, laughing, jeering. I can hear them now. Look at that pretty woman with that circus freak, what must be her inner affliction?"
"I don't give a hooey what anyone thinks Erik. I'd just tell them to go bite themselves."
"Yes, that would help the situation tremendously" He snapped.
I leaned back on my hands and pursed my lips in thought. Should I tell him what I know? He could toss me out or the worst-case scenario he could kill me. Naw, Erik's not that crazy, but still…"
"Hey Erik? What would you do if I told you that I know some of your secrets? Would you have to kill me?"
His eyes grew dark and his face twisted into a bewildered scowl, "Some of my secrets? What sort of secrets could you possibly know Gabrielle—Has someone been speaking to you in my behalf?"
"No. Two things. I am an avid reader and I like history. Do you remember the day you upset me and I hid in the attic?"
He nodded.
"I got terribly bored and cold and went searching for a blanket. I opened a few of the trunks to see if I could find one to wrap around myself. Welll…I ran across some newspaper clippings and …"
In one quick move he was off of the piano bench and towering over me, his hands clenched in rage as he peered down at me menacingly.
"You were prying into my business? You have no right to take such actions you little charlatan! How dare you. And to think I trusted you," he spat bitterly.
I matched his movements and stood glaring into his stormy jade eyes.
"And you still can Erik. I read some clippings. People do that sort of thing when they run across newspapers and such in attics. It's not as if I read your journal! Anyway that happened months ago. Have I betrayed you in anyway since that time?
He sustained his venomous stare.
"Well, have I?" I demanded. The best way to fight fear was with foolish bravado I reasoned.
Erik strode to the music room door and clicked the bolt. We were locked in for privacy. I hoped.
"Alright dear," his voice had taken on a frightening faux sweetness."Tell me what it is you know about Erik."
Shrugging my shoulders, I made a brave attempt to seem casual, "I knowyou are a fine composer. From my studies I know that you were born in 1830 around Rouen, France, although there is no exact date. I am not going to tell you when you die. Time travelers are forbidden to divulge such facts as they can alter the course of history. You marry and have one or two children. The class was ten years ago, and I spent a lot of time enjoying extracurricular activities while at University, some details are fuzzy. That's all I know really.
Now the articles from your trunk merely told of the incident at the Opera Garnier were a singer was kidnapping during a performance. There was an accident with the opera house's great chandelier and a subsequent fire. The Figaro account claims the man responsible was the infamous Phantom of the Opera. His body was discovered several days after the unfortunate events. He had drowned in the underground lake."
I watched Erik's expression turn from frightening to curious.
"To what extent do you believe I am involved in this affair Madame?"
"Um, Erik? What I know has no bearing on my feelings for you as a composer or a person, but I do know that you…you have to be he Phantom of the Opera."
Erik stood before me, a static, emotionless figure.
"So you know Gabrielle. You know that I am a kidnapper and a murderer, a vile excuse for a man. Because of my twisted repulsive face, I must exist as a manipulative animal to get what I want and need. Am I not a lovely escort for a young woman like yourself?"
"I only know what I've read, which as a former member of the press, is often conjecture."
He turned his back and walked to the window to stare at the light dusting of snow that had begun to fall on the countryside below. I followed, stepping softly on the Persian rug as not to startle him.
I gently placed a hand on his arm and spoke, "I also know that you are wise and fair and kind. I do not judge you Erik."
"I am a freak, a monster Gabrielle," he choked back a sob, "Do you not remember the day I accosted you in the barn?"
"I recall being as much a part of our little tryst as you were. Banish the notion that you had taking advantage of an innocent maiden. Or couldn't you tell that I enjoyed your touch?"
He spun around and growled, "Would you enjoy my touch had you known you were being kissed and groped by this?" he bellowed spitting his words at me.
Erik grasped the top of his white leather mask and ripped it from the right side of his face.
Stunned thought I was, I stood looking at him unflinchingly. Make no mistake; half of his face was definitely disfigured. It was rough and red, part of his eyebrow was missing and the eye dropped. There were lumps and bumps and ridges, but I didn't care. I had seen much worse faces.
Erik searched my eyes for what I assumed was a reaction. From me he received none, not even a flinch.
"You're still Erik," I shrugged and smiled at him tenderly hoping to reassure him.
His chest was heaving, and tears slid down his cheeks. I hated to see this majestic man's torment.
"Please, come here Erik," I held my arms open for him and was slightly surprised when he accepted my embrace.
I urged his head to my shoulder and stroked his hair. I moved slowly to the right side of his face and gently stroked the marred flesh with the back of my hand.
"Gabrielle," he sobbed, you are the first…the only human being ever to gaze upon my face without showing horror. I watched your eyes closely for any sign of disgust, yet there was none. You did not even wince. Why?"
"Because your deformity does not matter to me Erik. I can look at your face and still see the Erik I have come to know. I haven't much to do here so I watch, I observe; I see your loneliness' that you disguise with indifference. Your deep malice toward humanity stems from the fact that few have ever shown you compassion or kindness. God Erik, I'm surprised you suffer anyone after how you have been treated by others.
And you took me in, suspiciously at first, but rightfully so. Your deformity comes as no surprise to me. I mean, you wouldn't wear the damned thing for fun would you? I didn't mention the Laroux book's description, so much of it penned with vast imaginative creative license.
He continued to hold onto me, sobbing gently. My heart was breaking for this conflicted, damaged genius. Erik has known so much pain, pain of which I am sure I could never imagine. I wanted to comfort him, to make him feel human; to give him the masculine confidence that was his right as a man.
I rubbed my hands up and down his back as you would a distressed child and kissed the top of his head. A decision was made in that room just then; a decision to show him what it was to be a man. Erik may never love me, but I wanted to show him that he could be loved and desired.
I had no purpose in this world for which I could discern and I do believe that everything happens for a reason. Lagnadan, or fate, as my Nordic ancestors called it.
"Hey Erik?" I whispered to him, look at me for a moment please.
Reluctantly he lifted his head. His eyes were cast downward as he faced me. "Please kiss me."
He appeared confused, "You want me to kiss you? Do you offer me your lips as charity Gabrielle? I will not tolerate pity…"
"Erik, shut yer pie hole and kiss me," I moved in and placed my lips on his. He yielded tentatively as I tongued his lips lightly. They were warm soft and tasted of tears. Erik relaxed and allowed his body to lean into mine. We remained in our tender embrace long enough for both of us to alter our breathing.
Finally we separated. Erik gazed at me with a mix of lust and wonder. I trailed my fingers down the right side of his face, making it clear that this was an act of affection. I was not exploring his defects.
"What do you want Erik?"
His eyes widened at this unexpected request. Erik pondered the request for a moment, not sure of the intent behind my words.
"What do I want?" He laughed sarcastically, "Is this an inquiry ofattainable trivialities Gabrielle or are you asking me about my fruitless fantasies."
I eyes searched his face hoping to convey sincerity, "Be bold, tell me of something you honestly desire, but do not expect to attain."
"Honestly"?
"Yes."
He allowed his smoky jade eyes to roam languorously over my body.
I see the confident, enigmatic Erik has resurfaced.
He voiced his request with a slow, searing sensuality.
"I wish to take you to my room and slowly undress you."
A throbbing warmth spread between my legs. I could barley find my voice so I nodded in consent and extended my hand to Erik.
"Take me upstairs then."
"Are you certain Gabrielle?"
"Most definitely," I smiled.
- o -
There you have it. The next chapter will be up soon, I promise. And it will be M for real. Thanks for your patience in the love department, but I like to build relationships before they get their groove on. Please review soon.
Thanks -Leesa