Hello faithful readers and reviewers and you lurkers too. Thanks for hanging with me, not to mention Erik and Gabrielle, those maddening and impetuous lovers. Please read and review. - Leesainthesky

Re-cap: After a little love play, Erik and Gabrielle head out into the big city of London for supper…

Ch 34 Romance and Rage

The Restaurant des Gourmets was off the beaten path on Lisle Street, next to the Empire Theatre. Erik joked dryly that when he and Eugene first became partners, Eugene thought that because Erik was also a composer, dinning in the proximity of a theatre was a splendid way for his new business partner to meet women of the arts community.

Erik did not agree.

Nestled among a few other restaurants and houses, the restaurant was not impressive from the outside with its double window, yellow curtains and whitewashed door.

Upon entering, the maître d'hôtel glanced warily at Erik. Erik checked to make sure Monsieur Mangeot had made previous arrangements for us. The snooty man changed his tune when he saw E. DuPuis written in his reservation register. The composer was popular among London's artsy set.

The maître d' tripped over himself attempting to gratify us. He showed us the best table in the house and promptly brought a bottle of wine to our table. Erik rewarded the man's efforts with a hefty tip.

The restaurant dripped with romance. Black leather couches and small tables covered with white tablecloths dotted the dining room. At the far end was a sloping glass roof. Blush toned paper on the wall gave the room warmth.

Countless servers tended to our every need. Erik told me des Gourmets was one of his favorite places to dine, not only because of the fine cuisine, but also because of its discrete, candle-lit atmosphere.

We dined on sumptuous fare, accompanied by a select Pinot Noir, followed by a light dessert and an exceptional port.

The wine had loosened my lips and I prattled on about anything and everything that crossed my cranium.

"So Erik, why do you think Queen Vicky is such a vigilant prude? Is it because now that her beloved Albert has passed on, she figures that if she can't get any booty, no one else should either? I know losing the love of your life is no picnic, but gee wiz, orphans are running in the street, the country's poverty rate is sky high, they're banning books and tossing the authors in prison for being too vulgar, and everyone has to hide their affections. The old girl needs to get over and on with it. Know what I'm saying?"

The corners of Erik's lips turned up in amusement, "I could not say what her thoughts are, darling. Her Royal Highness seldom beckons me to high-tea these days."

"Traditional English food usually sucks. I'm glad you brought me here. Tell me, how is it that someone as reclusive as you are knows where to find the good grub in this town?"

Erik dabbed the corners of his mouth with his napkin and placed it next to his plate, signaled that he was finished eating. "Monsieur Mangeot and I entertain clients from time to time. It is not an activity I enjoy; however when I do accompany him, I prefer fine establishments serving, as you put it, good grub."

"Naturally, Erik Dupuis is a man of considerable wealth and taste—he's rather cute too."

Erik raised his eyebrow at me, "Cute? That, Mademoiselle is a label I am certain that has never been connected to me. I daresay, Gabrielle, I believe the wine has gotten to your head."

"I'm just in a good mood. You're the one who kept ordering wine; one would think you were plying me with drink in order to take advantage of me."

Erik snorted, "As if resorting to such means is necessary for you to respond to my advances."

I crossed my arms in mock outrage, "How un-gentlemanly! I shall not speak to you for the rest of the evening!"

Erik raised his hand for our server to bring the bill. "We must go. The hour is late and I have a full day planned for tomorrow."

He moved to my side of the table and pulled out my chair. "The inn is not so far that we cannot stroll back, providing the rain has diminished."

"I suppose I could use the fresh air, but you'll have to let me lean on your arm, these little shoes I have on are rather unstable."

"It would be my pleasure dear."

Erik paid the bill, and then had an attendant fetch our outerwear. "Your cloak, Mademoiselle," he held it up to wrap around me, donned his own gloves, cloak and hat and led me out into the night once more.

"I meant what I said; well maybe cute is too trite a word, but you are an alluring man, Erik, at least in my eyes," I said softly.

He linked his arm in mine, "What is behind all this flattery, Gabrielle?"

"Only the truth, Erik," I withdrew my arm from his and splayed my palms out in a show of exasperation, "When will you realize that I am not toying with you?"

"I know, Gabrielle, bearing false witness is not your way. Please, do not be frustrated with me. Kind words from women are not something I am sure I will ever become used to," Erik re-claimed my arm and drew me back to his side while we resumed our walk.

The workweek had come to a close. Theatres, restaurants and pubs were operating at full tilt and a considerable number of people milled about the city's streets.

I was too busy gawking at the street life when a woman and her escort brushed past us. Upon bumping into her briefly, I issued a polite pardon me; she glared back rudely.

"Friendly," I muttered under my breath. "So then Erik, where will you be taking me tomorrow?"

"Madame Mangeot frequents a dress maker whose work is as fine as any in Paris. That will be our first stop. Then, if you like, I'll take you to the fashionable Pantheon Bazaar on Oxford Street for more shopping."

"Whee!" I skipped a few steps. "I love shopping, especially if someone else is buying—oops, I did not mean that the way it sounded, I swear it." I held a lace-gloved hand over my mouth.

Erik chuckled softly and kissed the top of my head, "Not to worry, Gabrielle. Your enthusiasm is refreshingly feminine. If shopping brings you joy, then it is my pleasure to serve you."

"You're the best, Erik," I brought his glove-clad hand up to my lips and kissed it.

It was then that I caught sigh of two well-dressed couples walking toward us. Utter disgust showed on their arrogant faces. Evidently, they had caught the brief exchange of affection between Erik and me. I glanced up at him to see if he'd noticed. His expression was stony. He stared past them and picked up our pace.

"Good God, how can that young woman stand kissing that odd looking man?" I heard the younger of the two women say to her male companion.

"No doubt he is well-heeled," replied the man. The four of them broke out in a small fit of stifled giggles. Then the older woman said, "Yes, unquestionably very well moneyed. There is no telling what horrors she must endure. Oh, what that mask must hide!"

Outrage seethed through my veins. Without warning I stopped, broke from Erik and approached them, "How dare you insult those you do not know you…you…heifer!"

"I never!" the woman shrieked, clutching fearfully to her husband's arm.

Erik stood by too stunned to respond.

"Woman, have you no manners," bellowed her husband indignantly.

"My manners sir? You dare to reprimand me about my manners while the four of you openly insult us, you prig!" I jabbed a finger at him.

I caught the low growl of Erik's voice as he stepped up to my side, "Gabrielle, come here, now. Pardon us", he offered tersely.

"No Erik! Do not apologize to these ignorant fools!"

"Gabrielle dear, let us be on our way now," Erik said through gritted teeth.

The foursome continued to gawk at Erik's face while he pushed me forward. We were barely past them when I heard the following exchange:

"What a vulgar American woman! Common, I'm sure."

"Indeed, and that peculiar Frenchman, really, there are more freaks on the streets of our fair city now than ever. The Queen should disallow these foreign ne'er-do-wells."

I yanked my arm away from Erik, and rounded on them. It was time to get mid-evil.

"All right, that's it!"

Two pair of shocked eyes turned to stare at me.

"Where I come from, only low class scum dares to hurl insults at people who are not bothering them, yet here you are decked out in your uptown finery, wagging your pompous tongues at whomever you please. You all should be ashamed of yourselves!"

The older man stepped forward and spoke sharply to Erik, who by now had caught up with me. "Sir, can you not control your woman?"

"Stuff it you dickless phony." I motioned to Erik. "This fine man does indeed have more manners than I, because he suffers the crap people like you spew at will. He thinks he has to hide his deformity so as not to shock the likes of you, while you freely share the deformity that rots in your soul!"

"Willard, are you going to allow that little tart to speak to you so?" his wife whined.

I faced the old cow. "I feel sorry for you; by the looks of your pinched face, you haven't had a good lay in decades. At least my man doesn't suffer from a lack of virility."

Erik had reached his limit with my shenanigans. He picked me up and unceremoniously threw me over his shoulder.

"Enough Gabrielle," he reprimanded loudly and carried me away from the objects of my disdain.

"Put me down!" I kicked my legs against his chest in vain.

The couples stood frozen in place, watching the masked Frenchman haul the crazed American woman into the night. I wouldn't have been surprised to find them wondering what sort of she-devil they had just encountered.

"Damn it all Erik, put me down! What are you a Neanderthal?" I wailed.

"Not quite, but you have become very much the banshee. And, no, I will not put you down unless you promise to calm down and conduct yourself like a lady," he answered.

"But Erik, people are staring at us."

"Yes, so it would seem. Not pleasant being a curiosity now is it dear. I did not appreciate your uncouth behavior this evening, Gabrielle!"

"And I did not appreciate those boorish prigs' insults; they were uncalled for. People like that need a sound dressing down."

Erik stopped walking, put his hands around my waist and set me down in front of him on the sidewalk. He held onto me while he spoke, "Gabrielle, I am extraordinarily disappointed in your behavior. What in the devil's name would prompt you to behave so?"

"I don't like it when people say bad things about you."

"I do not require you to protect my honor. Mademoiselle, your actions have proved to be one reason why we should take caution in forwarding our relationship. Obviously, you cannot comprehend why I must live as I do."

Erik released his hands from my waist. I was rooted to the spot where he'd set me down and searched his face. The seriousness in his eyes made me numb with dread.

Could he really believe that our life experiences were so different that there could be no hope for a relationship beyond what we now had? I felt dizzy and hot, as if I wanted to pass out. I closed my eyes and breathed deeply.

Erik reached his hand to steady me, "Gabrielle, I am terribly sorry dear, but this is a fate that…"

I held up my hand, "If you must continue, then talk to the hand because the mind can bear no more of your sorry rationalizations. You either like me or you don't, Erik, end of story."

I spun on my heels and walked ahead of him so he couldn't see the tears that begin to blur my vision. I held my head high so they would run back into my sinuses and gulped in deep breaths of the cool night air. Yes, I was tipsy and that heightened my emotions for sure, but I could not fathom how such a wonderful evening had gone so desperately wrong.

Maybe Erik was right. I tried so hard to restrain my personality, but I couldn't squelch it for long. As a reporter, such attributes were useful. My friends liked to tell me I had moxie and I was fun to be around. Clearly, Erik did not consider these traits a plus.

After proceeding on my own for a while, Erik eventually caught up with me. I'm sure he could guess I hadn't a clue to where I was after we turned off Lisle Street. Silence was our companion for the remainder of the way back to the Lincoln.

All the way to our hotel, I walked a brisk three steps ahead of Erik, slowing only to ascend the hotel's marble steps, which were still slick from the rain. Sweeping through the lobby, I nodded briefly to the night desk clerk and continued up to our suite with Erik somewhere close behind.

Reaching the suite, I stood aside so he could unlock the door and then entered without saying a word.

Erik unhooked his cloak, removed his hat and tossed them haphazardly over one of the armchairs. "We will continue our discussion in the morning. Be prepared to leave shortly after waking," he instructed tersely.

"I see. We're leaving are we? Whatever—and thank you for a lovely evening, well, mostly lovely anyway."

"Goodnight, Gabrielle," Erik replied flatly.

I headed for the bedroom door then turned back to Erik, "Maybe this will all look different in the morning. Are you coming to bed, Erik?"

He avoided my eyes while he answered me, "No, tonight I will sleep here, on the couch. It's for the best."

"How comfy; suit yourself."

I shut the door and ripped off my clothing. The stupid corset was killing me. It would take three days for the undergarment's impressions to disappear from my skin. After flinging everything onto a chair, I slid under the bed covers. I hadn't even bothered to put on a nightgown or wash my face. I didn't care; I only wanted rest.

"Stupid me, stupid, stupid me," I said, while pounding my head repeatedly into a pillow. "No, stupid him, stupid, stupid, stubborn, ice-water-for-blood, egotistical, heartbroken him—arggggghhhh!" I screamed into the pillow, then flipped on my back and stared at the door.

A carousel of thoughts spun around in my head.

I hadn't been that inebriated tonight, so what caused me to go off on those people? True—it had always been my nature to defend my friends, and hearing those fools insult Erik angered me, but why did I react so fiercely? Could it be the stress of the past seven months bubbling to the surface, plus the enormous shock to my system of being shot into another realm and losing my entire network of family and friends? Add a substantial dose of confusion, stifling loneliness and the unending exasperation of misinterpreting nearly everything and everyone I met and ka-boom! I guess it is no wonder I detonated.

I thought of poor Erik. What does he know about human nature other than their capacity for cruelty and torture? One of his key survival techniques had been to hide from the ridicule of others, and tonight, rather than defending him from ridicule, I may have rubbed his face in it—certainly not my intention, but…oh my god! The realization of my gross faux pas made me sick.

I wondered if it was too late for an explanation and an earnest apology.

"And now he's sleeping on that cramped little couch because he cannot stand to think of me. I am an ass," I said aloud.

Popping out of bed, I snatched up a pillow, found an extra blanket folded over the end of the bed and carried them out into the parlor. There was Erik, scrunched up on the little couch, asleep. The man could sleep anywhere; that much I knew, but still, he looked so pitiful, so lonely. I tiptoed over to the loveseat and gingerly lay the wool blanket over his legs, then propped the pillow on the couch beneath where he'd folded his hands under his head. "I do love you enigma man," I whispered light as air, and then quickly retreated to the bedchamber.

That night I said my prayers. I prayed that God would help me to know what to say and what not to say. I prayed for patience for both of us, and finally I prayed that Erik would not forsake me.

- O -

Again, thanks for the reviews. It matters a lot to us writers, even if it's a shortie. Another update is coming soon. Major props to my beta Amy! Have a great week –Leesa