Welcome, please review, you readers, lurkers and regulars. I adore you.
-Leesainthesky
Before the Fall Gala premier of Erik's newest Opera, Gabrielle and Erik stop have dinner with the Giry women and Meg's fiancé…
Ch 48 Madame's Council
Meg Giry's fiancé, the Honorable Marquis de Lille, resided on the fashionably posh Boulevard des Capucines, naturally.
From the moment of our arrival, someone was attending to us at all times, from the footmen, to doormen, to the butler and beyond. The little ballerina would soon be living in high style.
Once ushered into the main salon where our hosts waited, the butler announced us as Monsieur Erik DuPuis and Madame Gabrielle Thomassen. Bows and curtseys were exchanged, and then Erik and I settled onto a tailored leather sofa. As a matter of habit, unmarried couples did not normally sit close together, but Erik and I were not your normal couple. Not that we strived to be unconventional, but often we just were.
Meg and her mother sat in twin leather chairs with only a round table separating them, while the Marquis stood.
One never knows what to expect in a person of noble descent. Some are wealthy, titled and boorish, while others are handsome and unassuming; the latter I found a rarity. The Marquis seemed amiable enough, with light brown hair, greenish eyes and a polite humor.
"Finally, I've the distinction of meeting the renowned composer and his fiancée; welcome to my home," the Marquis offered.
"Marquis de Lille, the pleasure belongs to my fiancée and me."
"Please, do be comfortable. We dine in a little while, but first, let us enjoy refreshment and talk. My dear Margaret and her lovely mother have filled me with stories of your considerable genius, Monsieur, tales of which I am certain hold considerable license." He smiled at Meg who turned an instant shade of pink.
I took a sidelong glance at Erik, now sitting straight backed and sober next to me. I knew he was not thrilled to hear that his friends from those underground days at the Opera Garnier had been chatting about him in his absence.
"Stories about me? I cannot imagine what good anecdotes these two dear ladies could possible have on me. Madame Giry took me in briefly as a young orphan boy, well before I ventured off to find my fortune as an architect. When I returned to Paris, I found that her husband had died fighting the Italians. She was left to raise her little blonde-haired daughter…"
"Who you teased mercilessly with grasshoppers and other fearsome creatures," Meg chided light-heartedly.
"Shall I see if you've recovered from your fears, Mademoiselle?" Erik returned with equally feigned emotion.
"Do not even jest about such things Erik; you traumatized me enough as it was, Monsieur."
"This from a child whose poor mother pulled her back from the rat infested lower levels of the opera house by her ears."
This garnered a hearty laugh from around the room.
"Yes Marquis, this demure French lady whom you've chosen as your future bride was once quite the little imp," said Madame Giry.
"Mama, that is not true!" Meg protested indignantly.
"I only hope it is partly true dear; I do relish a girl with spirit," said the Marquis.
"Well alright, bluestocking-boy; way to say 'I like to play'," I whispered to Erik, who promptly nudged me to lock it up.
"Beware this man's horridly droll humor, Gabrielle," cautioned Meg.
"Monsieur, will you be attending Erik's opera tonight?" I asked the Marquis.
"I regret that we cannot join you for the fall gala. My sister and her party are to arrive late this evening from Rome, where she has been perusing the ruins with her chaperone and companion. Tomorrow, however, arrangements have been made for all of us to attend."
"Wonderful. I, for one, can't wait to witness Erik's genius in the flesh."
"Genius or not, we've no inkling whether or not my opera will hold up to the wagging tongues of those witless reviewers, darling. Except for perhaps that Leroux fellow," he added.
Madame Giry knit her brows at Erik, "If Europe's elite does not find considerable worth in your work, than they do not deserve your genius. Of course Le Femme will be revered. Remember how Leroux adored your previous opera, L' Avocat de Diables?"
"She is correct Erik; your scores are fresh and riveting, especially when compared with the endlessness of yesterday's French Grand Opera or the folly the many new operettas."
"Pardon me, supper is now served," interrupted yet another of the household's numerous servants.
Everyone surrendered his or her wine and brandy glass to a maid and followed the uniformed man into the main dining room, where we were seated at our assigned positions at an impossibly long table.
The majority of conversation during dinner circled around the opera, provincial versus city living, and wedding plans.
I was in need of a trip to the powder room before Erik and I departed for the opera. Madame Giry rose with me when I excused myself from the salon.
Once inside the ladies lounging area, she pulled me aside for a friendly pre-wedding chat.
"Gabrielle, may I speak with you?"
"Of course Madame, what's on your mind?"
"Your impending nuptials…have the plans for your wedding been proceeding well?"
"Absolutely. You know Erik, he wants an elegant, but very private affair and I agree completely. The invitations have gone out; my gown and his wedding suit are all but ready, and, oh yes, the flowers will come from our beautiful rose garden."
"I've no doubt that your wedding will be an elegant affair. Are you certain child, that all is as it should be?"
I could not catch where the woman was going with this, but I figured she had her reasons for the impromptu inquiry.
"Madame Giry, I'm sure you're aware of my fiancés penchant for execution. The marriage papers are already in perfect order."
"But dear…"she hesitated and wrapped a slender, pale hand around my wrist, drawing me further into the shadows of the small room.
"What is it, Madame?" I was beginning to worry.
"It is Erik— you are happy with one another, no?"
"Why of course! I wouldn't consent to marriage if I didn't think him a wonderful, loving man, Madame."
"How is his…temper, Gabrielle? What I mean is, is he in control of his moods? Erik was always one to swing from dark to light in the blink of an eye. Often times he frightened the devil out of me with his unprovoked ranting."
Ah, she feared that the phantom Erik would come after me.
"Madam Giry, Erik still has a blazing temper, but he's never, ever threatened me with bodily harm. More often than not, he calms down quickly and apologizes. I don't think he is the same man who once haunted the Paris Opera."
She gasped wide eyed at my admission of such knowledge.
I held up my palms and shook my head. "Madame Giry, I know about the Phantom, the gypsies, of Persia, and of your saving grace. I know more about Erik than almost anyone, save The Daroga and perhaps Christine."
"You know? Mon Dieu!" she whispered. "But you must never speak of these things to anyone, Gabrielle; they could mean the end of him!"
"I would never endanger Erik, I love him madly. I sometimes think he is more afraid of my freewheeling American ways than I am of his dark and perilous past. We hold each other's deepest secrets locked away in our hearts."
She eyed me warily before resuming, "Then it is surely by the very hand of God that you have found each other. Erik deserves patience, understanding and love in immeasurable amounts."
"Sit for a moment, please Madame—if you have time." I motioned to the small cluster of King Louis chairs and a chaise provided for ladies in need of a rest.
"Certainly, the men always expect women to dawdle with their primping." I opted to sit on the chaise while Madame Giry chose the King Louis chair. I leaned forward anxious for the serious woman to continue.
"I feel you must know…Erik, he was a good boy, mischievous if not often bored. An intellect such as his requires stimulation."
"Don't I know, Madame…"
"I discovered him at a gypsy fair, where he was displayed as the Devil's Child. I assisted his escape from that transportable hell and hid him in the bowels of the Opera house.
I nodded for her to continue.
"At first he was reticent. I provided food, clothing, and anything else he wished. What I could not find within the Opera, I would purchase with my meager allowance. Naturally, I did not divulge this to him. Erik showed his gratitude by playing tricks on the ballet rats that would pick on me and entertain me with some of his magic tricks. Then one day he simply vanished. When I stepped into my toe-shoes for practice that morning, there was a note folded within. It read, 'Fear not my brave ballerina, we shall meet again.' I was terrified for Erik, and spent the next eleven years praying for his safety and salvation."
"Am I correct in saying that he returned after wandering about Persia and Europe, honing his trade as an architect?" I interjected.
"Yes, but when Erik resurfaced into my world, much had changed. I had been married, became a mother and then a widow, and had just begun my tenure as assistant to the ballet mistress. Erik claimed he was weary of the world and wished to build his domain, his kingdom as he called it, within the walls of the Paris Opera house. There in the fifth level, across the lake, he composed the fateful Don Juan Triumphant."
"Most assuredly, Erik never speaks of the piece, but I am aware of the saga surrounding it. Forgive my interruption, Madame, continue please."
"When Christine Daae's father passed on, I brought her to Paris where she flowered into a lovely young girl. Erik, sensing her sorrow over losing her father and upon hearing her exceptional talent, took her under his wing."
"As the angel of music…"
"Yes. I can assume you know the rest, Gabrielle."
"What a life of hell for our damaged genius, eh Madame Giry?"
"Indeed." Her eyes pled for my compassion.
I reached over and placed my hands reassuringly upon hers, "Look Madame, I can only guess that Christine loved Erik in her own way, but wasn't she a very tender young woman with little experience of the world?"
"Or of men with volatile tempers and vicious mood swings. Her father and her childhood friend and future husband, Raoul, were kind and gentle men. They had had the benefit of a decent life filled with love and friendship."
"I can imagine Erik must have scared the stockings right off the poor girl."
"The only good rising from the ashes of the Opera disaster was a rapid maturity for both Erik and Christine."
"Humm," I sat thinking of what to say next; so many questions swam in my head.
"One thing I am not clear about Madame Giry; how did Erik survive the manhunt and come to own his estate?"
"Erik escaped ahead of the mob to the apartment of his friend and conscience, the Persian."
"Ah yes, The Daroga. Interesting man…"
"He and I formed an alliance to assist Erik in rebuilding his life. We convinced him that he had only two choices left him; to descend further into his personal hell and die, or to rise up and claim his true life as the Frenchman he was born to be. The manor house was in an unassuming location outside of Paris. Erik had amassed a considerable fortune while in Persia and with investments of his opera house salary. Arrangements were made to procure the house and other necessary accoutrements to begin Erik's new life."
"My bonnet's off to you both. It seems that our Erik has been reborn."
"But you must be mindful of his temper dear; I know it lurks beneath the surface of his cool veneer. He is also a master of hiding his true feelings as a means of self preservation. Do not allow him to hurt you when he does not respond as other men do."
"I know, Madame. Erik is not equipped to decipher human intent, but rest assured we're working on it," I smiled.
"Erik does possess wisdom, the will to succeed and he has tremendous heart, albeit badly broken. Please Madame, promise me that you will not be hasty to judge him when he is at his most difficult. And should you need a sympathetic ear, you must come to me. I am always here for you, dear."
"Thank you Madame Giry. I'll remember your generous offer should I need a break from—life at the manor." We both smiled knowingly at each other.
"I had better return or we'll get a good taste of Erik's ire for making him late to his own opera."
We both stood and proceeded back to the salon.
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Yes, they're going to the opera next and there will be surprises to come…Please review for me. Thanks to Amy the beta.
-Leesa