Author's note: Thanks to you all for reading my story. I noticed readership dropped for the last two chapters; they were the hot ones too. If you feel the material was inappropriate in any way, please let me know immediately. Otherwise, please pop a review in so I know you're out there!

Merci beaucoup– Leesa

Re-cap: Erik prepares to leave for London. Caron gets nosey.

Ch 19 – Precipice of Doubt

No sooner had my hand touched the doorknob than I heard the door to Caron's room open behind me. "Gabrielle, where have you been?" She asked expectantly...

"…I needed some oil for my bedside lamp so I could see to use the WC. When I knocked on your door, no one answered. I entered to borrow your lamp rather than wake you with my worries, but when I saw that your bed had not been slept in, I became worried. But, here you are! Why are you wearing the same clothes from yesterday?" The ingénue cocked her head and looked at me in that Jessica Simpson deer-in-the-headlights sort of way.

"Um, I didn't sleep in my bed last night, Caron."

"Oh, where were you then?"

I just looked at her.

"You couldn't mean…oh my! Gabrielle, I didn't think you and Monsieur DuPuis were …"

"Shhh," I put my finger to my lips. "Do have some prudence dear. And no, my virtue is intact if you must know." Why should I tell her any different? The relationship between Erik and I was not an easy one to explain. I'm not sure I fully understood it.

"Caron, I will have breakfast ready in one hour. Are you very hungry?"

She looked surprised by the sudden change of subject, "No, not exceptionally, toast and tea will do."

"Very well, then I'll keep it light if you think that will agree with your parents too."

"I am sure Mama and Papa will not mind. Since they have gotten older, they no longer partake of a hearty early meal."

"Good then, I'll see you in one hour." I dismissed myself, hurriedly disappearing into my room.

Breakfast consisted of croissants still fresh from yesterday, jam, and cheese. Caron took Earl Grey tea, the Roux's and Monsieur Dupuis, their preferred French roast café au lait.

I was in such a thither trying to pull something together before people came to the table, I barely had time to consider what the vibe between Erik and I would be after our nocturnal expedition to the Isle of Lust.

I was scurrying around the table pouring hot beverages and providing more croissants for the hungry few when the lord of the manor finally arrived.

I didn't notice when Erik took his place at the table until I heard Monsieur Roux bluster, "A fine morning to you Monsieur Dupuis."

"And to you Henri," Erik greeted the elder man pleasantly.

"I noticed you burning the midnight oil last night. I trust you eschewed slumber for more creative pursuits, eh?"

I whipped around faster than necessary and came close to sloshing hot coffee on myself. Unruffled, Erik shrugged off Henri's comment with a wave of his hand, "Yes Henri, you know me well to have learned that I prefer composing to sleeping. It is one of the few pursuits I find most pleasurable." The last two words were drawn out in perfect enunciation while he looked directly at me.

Dear lord, Erik, how about some subtly. I felt the warm curse of a blush materializing on my cheeks. I quickly turned away and headed to the kitchen for more Croissants.

Caron, of course, caught the fleeting exchange. She excused herself and joined me in the kitchen. "Gabrielle, forgive me for asking," she whispered, "But, I cannot help my curiosity. I saw the way he looked at you. Do not tell me that nothing of a physical nature has transpired between the two of you. I am not so naïve. Do be careful. Monsieur DuPuis is a strange man."

She seemed more concerned for my welfare than nosy, but I still rather resented the young woman's prying manner.

"Now look here, Caron, Monsieur DuPuis and I are friends and we often stay up late into the evening discussing music and literature. I went to university. I find there are few men who think enough of my intellect as a woman to engage me as Erik will, and for that I am grateful."

"But, you were in Monsieur DuPuis' room, Gabrielle."

"Caron, really, this conversation is over, fini."

I strode haughtily back to the dining room and announced that if no one had any more breakfast requests, I would be clearing the table.

The Roux's had already excused themselves. Through the kitchen window I had noticed Henri walking to the stables. I assumed he was off to prepare the brougham for chauffeuring Erik to the train station.

Caron resumed her place at the dining table. She smiled weakly at me as I worked around her clearing the dishes. I chose to ignore her. Erik requested another cup of cafe au lait, and I coolly approached him with the coffee. As I stood by to refill his cup, his hand crept up my leg, coming to rest lightly on my bottom while I continued to pour.

Damn man. A little taste of tushy and I was fair game. This both pleased and angered me because I did enjoy his attentions, but did not know how I felt about having him take such free liberties with me. I accidentally sloshed a small amount of coffee in his lap, not enough to burn, but enough to get his attentions off of my posterior.

"Oh, Monsieur Dupuis, forgive me. Where is my mind this morning?"

I grabbed another napkin form the table and tossed it at his crotch, "Please tell me I did not burn you!" I wailed with concern.

After making sure his manhood was not injured, he looked up at me with foreboding,

"Madame Thomassen, you really must be more careful with such hot liquids. Where is your mind, woman? What manner of activity kept you from proper sleep last night that you do not know your mind this morning? Perhaps you should finish the dishes and retire for a nap."

"Forgive me, Monsieur. You are correct in guessing that I could not sleep last night. I was having the most surreal dreams after we finished our stimulating conversation. And I do concur with your point about the yanks being so puritanical in their laws. Not allowing women to use contraception is irrational. It's good that the French are more open minded about family planning choices. Don't you agree, Caron dear?" I smiled quizzically at her.

Caron held onto her teacup possessively. "Uh, I suppose…I am sorry that I do not know enough on the subject to be a good conversationalist, Gabrielle."

"Of course you know that the French allow birth control, that is unless you are Catholic. In America a new law has been passed where all attempts to stop conception have been outlawed. I think a man by the name of Comstock introduced it. I may even be related to the misogynist. Of course, you and Monsieur Spencer must be planning lots and lots of babies since there is a need for an heir from the Spencer's only boy. But, I am sure you will make a really excellent mother."

Her mouth was gaping open and her cheeks were a brilliant crimson. I had embarrassed her well and good.

I glanced back to see Erik's incredulous expression.

"Dear me, I am embarrassing you, aren't I? Forgive me for being impolite. This truly is not conversation for a meal is it? I'll go now."

I retired to the kitchen chuckling and feeling slightly naughty.

With the dishes done I made a decision to go for a short walk around the grounds. The day was cold and clear, the sort that leaves you feeling purified by simply breathing.

M.Roux was putting the tack on the horses. "Well, hello there, my dear, lovely day for a winter one, is it not?" Henri greeted me cheerfully.

"Not too bad. Having the sun out reduces the chill somewhat. I needed fresh air to clear the indoor cobwebs from my lungs, you know?"

"Yes indeed," he agreed.

We stood chit chatting banally for a few more moments, before I breached the subject,

"Henri, how long have you known M. Dupuis?"

He looked up as if searching for the answer. "Let's see, Marie an I came to work for him…it's been four years now. My, how life flies by as one ages," he chuckled.

"Why do you ask Dear?"

"Caron told me she thought he was strange—to be careful a round him. What do you think she meant by that, Henri?"

"Well," he began, while continuing to tack up the horses, "Caron has led a sheltered life, and she has not witnessed too many unusual characters, save the ones in Marie's family. When we first came to the manor, Caron was only seventeen.

In those days M. DuPuis rarely spoke to anyone unless it was a gruff order. He hid from sight, mostly in his music room. There were nights when nothing would come out of that room but terrible, twisted notes. Caron called it angry music, like when you go to an opera and there is death on the stage she said. I think his countenance frightened her.

There were rumors too—ones you might as well know even thought Marie would not like it if she knew I was stirring the gossip pot. Sooner or later someone you will meet someone who will learn of your employment here and question you.

There is mystery around M. DuPuis' past. He has no family and no one in Paris knows of his origins. The mask, it frightens many, too. First it startles, then people begin to speculate about what lies beneath. The superstitious call him a demon in hiding. Those are the rumors, of course.

Over the years, I have seen him emerge from hopelessness and become a man of reconciled abandonment. Mostly, he is a talented, lonely genius with a shattered heart; that is all. I don't believe him to be dangerous, Gabrielle; he will not cross someone unless they betray him. That I know for certain.

I remained despondently silent.

"Madame? I can see that you care for M.Dupuis. You needn't be sad for him. He is well respected as an artist and composer. He has wealth and loyal friends in the Giry's and a Persian gentleman who visits from time to time. And then there is you."

Huh? My attempt at appearing nonplused failed. M.Roux smiled and nodded his head. "Yes, dear, you cannot fool an old fool. I have watched the two of you grow more comfortable over the months. He has never in the years I have been in his employee engaged another person as much as he engages you."

"But, Henri, I am in the house more than anyone, don't you think that's only natural?"

He smiled knowingly, "Gabrielle, dear, Erik smiles when you are near, that is not natural for him."

I couldn't help but let a slight grin play on my lips.

"Ah, and so it is as I thought."

My eyes met his; they were kind and understanding, not worried like his daughters expression earlier at breakfast.

"You know you are good for him, perhaps he will even learn to love again."

Back in my room, I ruminated on Henri's words. Good for him? Learn to love again? What could all of this double speak mean? Erik rarely shared himself with me. Oh, I knew of his tragic past, but what did I know of him? How did he react in times of adversity, despair or need? I dared not assume anything right now.

From below my window, I heard a commotion. It sounded as if a vehicle were coming into the stable area. I drew the draperies aside to see who was visiting.

My heart sank. No one was arriving; Erik was leaving. Why hadn't even told me good-bye?

Stricken with bewilderment, all I could do was stare as the horses carried his brougham out of view.

"A$$-hole," I whispered tearfully at the window. Erik wasn't the only person in the world with a raw heart. Didn't' he know that after what I had told him of Tony's duplicity?

It seemed that men are not much different from century to century. At least most modern men would pretend to care enough to tell you good-bye after you spent a night in their bed.

I couldn't decide which was worse, blatant indifference, or a pretty lie?

Tomorrow evening Caron and I would descend on Paris as a dashing Parisian couple. I was more determined than ever to indulge in my rebellion. If I had to be stuck in this whacked out century, bereft of any loved ones, I was going to get my party on!

- O -

On to Paris next! I wish to thank my Beta 'Chelly and also Nico for their insight and inspiration. A big kiss to all who have read and reviewed.

-Leesa