Hi there, Thanks for the reviews, they've been great. Keep it up. Hi to my lurkers too. Thanks to my beta Amy and my muse, Erik (can men be muses?)
Ring the bell, it's round one…
Ch 58 Tea and Sympathy
All right you French pop-tart, keep your paws off my man or I'll jack you up. Perhaps a swift shove of my foot up your arse, Madame?
I smiled gleefully thinking of how the Comtess' face would distort when I voiced my fantasy intentions to her tender, bejeweled ears.
Such delicious daydreams; ones that nearly got me killed. I heard yelling and the crack of a whip snapping me back to reality in time to see a mighty team of omnibus horses bearing down on the tiny brougham.
"Oh shit," I said in English. I'd drifted into the path of the mass transit vehicle. Empress Agnier, the name Henri had given to my carriage horse, whinnied a frenzied warning and I pulled her up and around in one quick move. We'd missed the omnibus by a nose.
"Women, they should never be allowed to drive," someone shouted in French.
Geez Gab, the very last thing you need to do is wreck Erik's brougham.
I could imagine the conversation we'd have; Now tell me darling, how did you crash the carriage?
It's like this Erik; I'd just left Nadir's flat and was on my way to Christine's when out of nowhere an omnibus flew at me!
Yelpers, that'd go over swell.
I pulled out of the traffic flow; waiting for the marching band in my heart to cease it's thumping, and allowed the Empress to chill out as well.
Pay attention, I told myself. Slowly and steadily, I eased my way back into the fray of cabriolets, omnibuses, carriages and foot traffic and made my way to the shee-shee pooh-pooh side of town.
I delighted in the street life there; wonderful shops and cafes overflowing with painters like Delacroix, Ingres and Manet, writers like Racine and Balzac, or actors like Mounet-Sully, creating or discussing culture and truth, mingling in with the well- heeled supporters of the arts.
The de Chagny townhouse sat among a row of elegant whitewashed buildings simply adorned along the front with numerous fruit trees. I parked the brougham close to a water trough for the Empress to revive herself and walked the half block to my destination. With immense apprehension, I mounted the stairs, pacifying myself only when I resurrected the anger I felt toward the noble woman for trying to snag my man.
Pressing the brass bell on her door, I practiced deep breathing and shored up my courage to face the woman with cool grace.
I will not bitch slap her, I repeated in my head. The thought made me smile so when her butler answered the door, I had a pleasant expression plastered on my face.
"Good day Madame, have you business with the Comtess today?" inquired the slightly middle-aged man in a respectful voice.
"Why yes, I'm an old friend and I'm afraid she is not expecting me. Would you kindly tell her that Madame Gabrielle Thomassen, fiancée of Monsieur Erik DuPuis, is calling?" I said, sweetly assigning the fiancé part in case she forgot my name.
"Please enter Madame; I shall fetch the Comtess straight away," he nodded leaving me standing in the grand entrance of Christine's townhouse.
I'd been checking out my image in one of the gilded mirrors when the tiny Comtess swept into the room in a cloud of violet, the scent of vanilla swirling around her. Smiling as if I was a dear friend, she held out her delicate ivory her hands to me.
"Madame Thomassen, Gabrielle, my, what a delightful surprise; whatever are you doing in my part of Paris this morning?"
As if I couldn't have friends in her tony zip code.
"Forgive my uninvited intrusion, Comtess de Chagny," I curtsied with a smile. "I would like to say this is a social visit, but it is more of a personal nature."
"Please, you must call me Christine; I never did become used to the formalities of my husband's station."
"Christine…do you mind if we sit. I wish to speak with you about an urgent matter."
Her milky forehead creased slightly when she frowned. "Gracious yes, Gabrielle."
She was sweet, pretty and genuine. Damn it, I really, really wanted to despise her.
Christine led me through a wide hallway with enormous paintings, the real deal of course, past a massively stocked library. We turned down another hallway with long narrow gilded mirrors and flowers everywhere. She paused at the entrance to a cheery room decorated in the Louis Philippe style.
"Please after you," she motioned me into the room. I waited for her to seat herself and took the opposing chair, crossing my ankles and striking a rigid posture; I didn't wish to make myself too comfortable.
Christine reached over to the rectangular table between us and picked up a large brass bell, which she rang. Within seconds a servant appeared, dressed in crisp white. "Yes your Grace, what is your pleasure?"
"Bring us tea and a plate of those fresh croissants, would you Marion, dear?"
"Right away, your Grace" the woman bowed and left us to our visit.
"Well," Christine folded her hands, rested them on the fabric of her violet silk day dress and sat up primly. "How may I be of service to you, Gabrielle?"
"The reason I've called today is to discuss Erik."
Her eyes widened into an expression of oh really, "Erik? I am afraid I do not know him well at all, but I shall assist you in your curiosity if I can. What is it you wish to know? "
"First of all, I think it only fair for you to know that I am aware of the angel of music and of how he once tutored you and of his fruitless attempt to woo you. I know of Don Juan Triumphant and of how he nearly killed your then fiancée, the Vicomte. I know that Erik's admiration of you was obsessive and deep. There, now we are on even footing and there need be no secrets between us, what I want to know is how you feel about him today, Christine. Do you still love my fiancée?"
"Dearest Gabrielle, when I was but a child, Erik enchanted and enraged me. Where his power once terrified me, it now only reminds me of the man's passionate inner beauty. I fear that I was ghastly to him and I would like the opportunity to make up for my youthful indiscretions. Surely you have no objections to my having him tutor my voice?"
"Let's cut to the core of this rotten apple, Christine. I am a savvy woman, a writer and some would say, even an intellectual."
"Then you and Erik are very well matched indeed!" she trilled like a bird.
"Look Comtess, I know things, like when a woman is interested in another woman's man beyond platonic relationship."
"Gabrielle, whatever do you mean?" she said with innocence.
I narrowed my eyes and spoke with purpose, "I mean, in the most gracious way I know possible, to say that although I realize you and my fiancé have a history, it was many years ago. Erik and I are happy, Christine. Surely you saw that for yourself the evening of the Gala."
Except for a considerable widening of her eyes, the little Comtess contained her composure.
I was blunt to the point of rudeness.
"Stop sending him perfumed letters; do not approach him at the opera or any other place until we are wed. Do you understand? You hung him out to dry six years ago. He pined for you for a good many of those. He does not need you popping back into his life and opening up old wounds that had been healed over for years. Leave him be—move on with your own life."
The woman sitting opposite me had taken on the appearance of the ice queen. Her perfect mouth was a thin pink line; her hazel eyes, a steely gray.
Good, she understood where I was coming from.
Marion, the white starched woman, returned with a silver tray laden with croissants, jams and tea. She poured tea into fragile china cups, serving me and then her mistress. Christine spooned sugar into her cup with a silver spoon and stirred slowly. I did not move.
"Gabrielle, I am not the sort of woman to steal another woman's lover from her arms." She said as if the thought burdened her greatly.
"It is with much agonizing that I make the choice to connect once more with my former teacher. Oh, you do believe me don't you? "Christine pleaded.
"I wish not to bring turmoil to your household."
"Really now," I said narrowing my eyes and arching my eyebrows at her.
"Erik, he meant the world to me. I could never erase his memory from my mind, Gabrielle. As much as I adored my Raoul, I often wondered what it would have been like to have mated with Erik." Her eyes never left the contents of her cup.
"Indescribable ecstasy," I smirked, quite happy with myself to see that I had rattled Christine. She was midway through a sip of tea when I spoke, and she sputtered and coughed.
"My Grace, are you all right?" Marion rushed to her employer's side, but Christine shooed the woman away and lifted her napkin to dab at the corners of her mouth.
Quickly she recouped her poise, "My, my Gabrielle, you aren't a shy thing are you?"
"I am discreet when necessary. We are grown women and you did ask me a direct personal question; you deserved a direct and honest answer."
"Then dearest Gabrielle, I shall be honest with you. Erik was once my mentor, my guide and guardian. His passion led him to write a searing, sensual opera. The man risked all for me yet I was far too naive and inexperienced to comprehend what it all meant. And now, fate presents me with another chance to right my past wrongs. You'll forgive my intrusion, but you and he are not yet wed."
Christine perched on the edge of her seat, her voice rising, I thought the little minx might be preparing for a face off, but she remained seated as she finished her spirited speech, "Do you understand, Madame?"
Without saying a word, I rose, placed the cup and saucer on the table between us, picked the cup back up by its fragile handle, then leaned over the table and ever so calmly dumped the contents of the cup into the Christine's lap.
Christine gasped, looking exasperated; all she managed to do was glance down at her wet lap and then back up at my face.
"I understand completely. Thank you for your hospitality, dear Comtess. I shall see myself out."
Okey dokey—now what?
I knew Christine wouldn't dare tell Erik of our confrontation; in a calculated move I let on that, I knew too much about her. At least the woman's intentions were now crystal clear; she wanted to win back Erik. Like hell she would, I told myself.
Sure, Christine held a spot in Erik's heart, but it was I who held the key. If I remained calm, savvy and strategic in my actions, I was certain that Erik's infatuation would wane and I would once again be the woman who occupied his gray matter 100 percent of the time.
The September day turned warmer. It was perfect; the sort of day a bride hopes for on her wedding day, the sort I had hoped for. Now we would marry in late October, when the days began to turn cold and brittle.
My mind needed clearing before I headed back to the country. I decided a walk would do me some good, so I parked the brougham along the Seine and strolled along its historic banks, hoping for clarity.
Two hours later, feeling tolerably better, I returned to the manor. Nadir Khan had already arrived.
Damn, the man doesn't waste time; while I chatted it up with Christine and sauntered down the banks of the Seine, Nadir was on his way to pick Erik's mind.
The Empress Angier whined and trotted us around the manor house to the stables; I assumed she was on the hunt for some oats. There I found Henri grooming Dante. The stallion snorted low and nudged at the pocket of my cloak, rooting around for treats.
"Sorry big fella, nothing for you right now." I scratched his chin.
"Back over here ya beggar," Henry gently tugged on the halter, steering the big stallion's head back around so he could work on the horse's mane.
"Had an early appointment in the city did you dear?"
"Yes, very early. I visited a new friend and checked on my wedding dress."
Not in the mood for discussion, I gave Henry no more information than necessary and began to un-hitch the Empress from the carriage.
"Leave it," Henri ordered me. "If you don't cease sticking your fingers in my job, pretty soon I'll have none."
"Oh pooh, Erik would never release you Henri, he needs you." I patted the man on his back. "But if you insist, I'll leave the Empress and her carriage for you to deal with."
"Did you notice? You're not the only one making your calls today. We have company."
"I recognize the horse; when did Monsieur Khan arrive, Henri?"
"He's been here maybe thirty minutes."
"I see." Before I could slip through the barn door, Henri stopped me.
"Gabrielle, have patience with Monsieur DuPuis. He knows little of love and even less of his own heart. You are the only woman who has ever truly loved him."
No secrets here. Surprised to hear Henri voice an opinion on the turmoil brewing inside the manor house walls, I whirled around to look at him.
"Dear Henri, while patience is a virtue, I fear it's one that I'm wearing thin on."
"Have faith, dear."
"Faith, yes. Thank you and your wife for your kindness Henry."
He nodded, "Gabrielle, Marie and I, we have grown quite fond of you. Know that you may count on our support."
"I shall." His sincerity of his concern caused me to tear up. I exited the barn with haste, willing away the tears as I strode toward the back entrance of the manor house.
Upon entering the kitchen through the back entrance, Marie immediately pounced on me, "Gabrielle, where were you girl? You left without a word to anyone this morning. Monsieur DuPuis was not pleased."
"Too bad for him. I don't have to tell him of my every move you know, Marie."
She frowned at my impertinence, "Gabrielle, it is unfitting to speak so of the lord of the manor."
I brushed off her archaic graces and changed the subject to the visitor.
"I saw Monsieur Khan's horse. Where is he? I wish to say hello to him."
"That is why I stopped you at the back door Gabrielle. He and Erik have been in the library with the doors sealed for over half an hour now. I brought tea to them and heard them having a row. I knocked and they ceased long enough for me to deliver the tea. Monsieur DuPuis demanded that they not be disturbed whatsoever."
I wrinkled my brow. I sure wish I could eaves drop on that conversation since I had an idea what the subject matter was.
"Don't fret Marie, I wouldn't dream of interrupting them; man stuff no doubt."
Marie held onto my arm lightly, "Are you well dear? You look a bit peaked."
"Oh I'm fine, just feeling a bit punk, I think I need to eat. I'll go ahead and fix the midday meal now that it's nearly one o'clock."
"I can take care of the meal if you like while you take a rest, dear," she offered.
"Thank you Marie, but you'll do no such thing. I picked up some cheese while I was out this morning, I'll nibble on that as I prepare the food. No go, please before you wear me out with your kindness."
Marie didn't know whether to laugh or take offense at my cheeky remark, so she simply shot me an addled smile, and left to gather supplies for sweeping the rugs in the upstairs bedrooms.
Thank the lord; I didn't think she'd ever leave me alone. Now I can be the little mouse in the pantry and do some information gathering.
I lit the oven and removed the cassoulet, which I'd prepared the night before, from the icebox and placed it into the oven. I could hear Marie ascending the stairs with her brooms and dustpan.
Hearing no other footsteps within the house, I stepped into the pantry and slid the pocket door half way to conceal my obvious action of eavesdropping. It was so very easy to hear every word from the library, and I could just see through a crack in a joint in the paneling the back of Erik's head. He sat across from Nadir.
Erik addressed his friend tersely, "You are sorely mistaken Daroga, Christine wishes only to resume her lessons. How dare you insinuate otherwise."
"Perhaps that is what you believe Erik, but proper ladies are not known to seek such intimate contact with engaged men. This is, of course, not just any other woman either, this is Christine." He retorted evenly. "When I read your letter informing me of the change in wedding plans, I sensed discord, Erik."
"Yes, I forget Daroga, that you are a master clairvoyant."
"One needs not be clairvoyant when dealing with the whims of Erik DuPuis."
"You insult me in my own home! The decision of which you speak was made in good conscience. I told you already, Christine claims she still loves me and wants to arrange a meeting. Do I not owe that to her?"
"Pray tell Erik, why do you owe her anything?"
"She was one of few humans who offered me kindness, you know that Daroga."
"If my memory serves me, that affair did not end well for you."
I couldn't see Erik's face but I imagined him glowering at Nadir.
"Tell me in truth, Erik—do you still love Christine?"
My heart caught in my throat.
I saw Erik shift in his chair, he then sighed, "I never stopped loving her."
"I see. And do you love Gabrielle as well?"
"I do. God help me, how can a man love two women at once? Surely it is a grave betrayal of the institution of love; may Cupid strike me dead with his arrows."
"Oh, you are not the first man in history to love more than one woman simultaneously, nor will you be the last. I am sorry Erik, but this quandary does not make you unique. The question is Monsieur, whom do you love more?"
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Big gasp; hold your breath for chapter 59! Please review this one for me; I'd like to know what you think about the Christine/Gabrielle confrontation. Naturally, Gab wanted to strangle her, but she decided it wouldn't be prudent.
-Leesa