Whoa Nellie, What an awesome bunch of reviews. It was great to hear from all of you especially those of you who have never done so before. I think I'll go back and rewrite the first third of the fic. Do some editing and so forth…
Apologies to my beta Amy, I sent this chapter out without her approval so if you see boo boos, its me, not her.
Ch 59 DeclarationsErik dropped his voice, "I love them both, Daroga, but each one differently."
"Fine," Nadir retorted in a matter of fact fashion. "But think of it Erik, which woman will make the better wife, a woman with an exceptional voice who you once obsessed over, yet never had a true relationship with, or a woman of keen wisdom and the exceptional ability to love your sorry hide, and not leave you for putting her through hell."
Erik lowered his head into his hands, "Christine, she was my muse, my dream and now she returns to me. Gabrielle is my gift, she is kind and intelligent and a joy to have in my life. She has never flinched from my touch and until I postponed our wedding date, she has never refused me in bed."
"Do you blame her Erik, what woman of your culture would wish to service a man who thinks of another?"
"No…" Erik replied weakly, "My friend, I surprise myself with my selfish deeds. Gabrielle has cared for and loved me for a year now and this is how I repay her, with loathsome indifference. I know that women from her time do not suffer fools such as myself lightly. Why, Nadir, why does she tolerate me, Nadir?"
"She loves you, you fool!"
Duh, Erik. For a genius he could be incredibly dense.
"My little dove, my Gabrielle—she is my choice for a mate, but before we are wed, it is imperative that I finish this business with Christine. I must be secure that she has absolutely no claim on my heart, can you comprehend my need Nadir?"
"I comprehend that you, dear friend, have no experience with love and that you believe you must do this thing. The Christine you loved was a voice, a vision; Gabrielle is warm flesh and blood. Know the difference. I warn you Erik, be prudent; do not destroy Gabrielle."
You go Daroga; I cheered the Persian on from the other side of the library wall.
"Your considerable wisdom is well noted, Nadir. I love Gabrielle; it pains me when I think of the distress I have caused her. She deserves my undivided affection, after I return from Paris, this predicament will be resolved."
Yes! I pumped one fists in the air.
"When will you go?"
"Three days from today, I must go into Paris for the purpose of business. It is then that I will call on the Comtess de Chagny."
"Then I shall see you in October for your wedding, Monsieur?"
"If fate is in our favor, Daroga," Erik replied soberly.
If fate is in our favor— what the hell is that Erik?
Without thinking, I hit the pantry wall with my fist causing a few jars to jump and rattle on their shelves. Erik and Nadir jumped too, and Erik turned in the direction of the noise.
It seemed as if he looked right at me. Yarks, I spun away from the small crack in the wall. I knew he couldn't see me there, well, being Erik I hoped he hadn't seen me snooping from the other side of the wall.
In one mighty swoosh; I flew from the pantry to the oven. The cassolet needed to bake for another eighteen minutes, but I had no desire to be caught with my ear to the pantry wall.
I busied myself with setting the table. Not certain if the Daroga would be joining us, I set a place for him as well.
"Hey Erik, what's shakin' baby," I said with forced cheer when he entered the kitchen.
"I'm off to the wine cellar for a bottle of the new Beaujolais. Shall I bring up any other bottles for our upstairs stock?" he said absentmindedly.
"I think were good here," I motioned to the wooden wine rack filled with the appropriate reds and whites.
"Erik, Marie told me that Monsieur Khan is here, will he be joining us for lunch?"
"What…? Oh, Nadir; no he left already. And I won't be dining either, Gabrielle."
I'd had it with Erik's disappearing act. I found it hard to believe that he didn't have the constitution to face me when life became sticky.
The wooden spoon in my hand went airborne crashing into a row of jars filled with dried beans. Erik stood perfectly still, watching my angry display.
"Damn it Erik, why is it that you cannot take a meal with me anymore? Two weeks ago you went to Versailles for three days, last week you disappeared for nearly a week and haven't had one meal with the rest of us in days. What's up with that?"
"Gabrielle, sometimes I do not wish to eat, you know that," he said in his defense.
"Yes, when you're composing or designing. I've inkling those are not the reasons behind your recent reticence. Could you be avoiding me?"
He stalled by eyeing the contents of the wine rack with a sudden keen interest.
"Why should I avoid you, dear?
"Why don't you tell me, Erik?" He was trying to turn the focus back onto me, and I was not going to play his corner game.
"Gabrielle, you have become most irrational as of late, is it time for your monthly again? You do have a tendency toward excess displays of emotions at such times."
"You did not just say that. You did not just blame my menstrual cycle for my bad mood."
"Must you, Gabrielle?" He winced.
"Must I what…oh, my menstrual cycle? Ha, poor Mr. Sensitive. Look here, Erik, at least I may have an excuse, what's yours for being such a turd to me lately?"
"A turd Madame? Perhaps it is you who is the turd."
Laughing at Erik would not be appropriate in the middle of an argument, but hearing such an indelicate word slip from his mouth was amusing. I bit my top lip until I regained my composure.
"Erik," I sighed, "Since Christine popped into our lives, you have been unreachable, your thoughts are not here, they are not with your music, or with me. I'm not a stupid girl, I know something is weighing you down, tell me, come clean before your secret destroys the both of us." I tempered my voice as I spoke in an attempt to appeal to Erik's sense of honor.
He caressed the curve of a bottle of wine before making eye contact with me. Gone were the defensive tone, and the need to throw blame.
"Gabrielle, I have always adhered to being honest with you and I won't cease doing so now."
"It's one of your more admirable traits, sweetheart."
I leaned my hips against the kitchen table and folded my arms across my chest, shoring up the strength to hear what I already knew.
"Nadir, his visit today was not a social one. Evidently the woman in my employee and her sister find it necessary to make my business theirs," Erik mussed with contempt.
"It would seem that Madame Giry lunched with Christine the day following the Opera Gala. Christine divulged to her dear friend that she still cares for me and wishes to maintain a cordial relationship. Madame Giry thinks such an idea most unwise."
"Does she now?" I said masking a wicked smirk behind my wide-eyes and winsome smile.
I am Gabrielle, l'actrice extraordinaire!
"Evidently she and her sister have been corresponding on the matter of our wedding, the special delivery letter and other matters of a personal nature. It seems the righteous Madame Giry could not trot over to Monsieur Khan's fast enough to confer with him about our affairs."
"I see—so your special delivery letter was from the Comtess then?"
"Yes dear, you were correct in your previous assessment. I haven't been hiding the truth from you, I've been at a loss at what to tell you."
"So tell me the truth, Erik," I implored
"Gabrielle, Christine, she—she still loves me, so she claims. She has requested I visit her at her town home in Paris to be sure that there are no…" Erik paused, his eyes roamed the room and he raked a hand over the left side of his face.
"There are no what, Erik?" I narrowed my gaze.
"Feelings…for her."
"Feelings of love, is that what Christine wrote in her letter Erik?" I asked what I already knew.
"Yes."
"And do you still love her Erik?" I braced for his answer.
"Gabrielle, it is not so simple darling." He stepped toward me, and then stopped when I remained closed in my posture.
"If you do still love Christine, I understand. She was the first woman to touch your heart as a man. Her voice and delicate beauty once enchanted you. Erik, listen, I still love Tony, in a fashion, but he has no place in my life, future, past or present. I once interviewed the twentieth century R & B singer Bonnie Raitt, who told me that there are enough rooms in the house of her heart for each person that she ever loved—wise words indeed."
Erik looked to be thinking about the implications of my prior statement when I ran another one by him.
"Just because you experienced a spike of adrenaline when you met up with Christine again, does in no way mean she is the one you should be with, that is unless you really do feel that way and if that is true, tell me now so I can cut my losses and move along."
I was swimming in a deep sea of desperation trying to make sense and save our love affair.
Erik frowned. He moved away from the wine rack reached out to me, but I remained static with my arms still crossed, rejecting his affection.
His voice was low and serious, "Gabrielle, you think I do not hold you in the highest esteem? That I do not love you as the stars love the very dusk? My darling…"
"Ah, ah—Erik." I held up a hand to silence him.
"Should you determine that you do love Christine enough to choose her, remember Erik, she does not know you, she may know of your music and of your sadness, but she does not know the man that I know. Can so few attributes be enough to hold a man like you? "
I ploughed on in my beseeching, "if you act on a mere resurrected memory, you will lose what is real. You see Erik; I made a vow after Tony's last and final dalliance to never, I repeat, never allow a man to betray me twice; I will not, cannot be your woman in the wings, your second chair. Do you understand me Erik?"
"Gabrielle, the reason for you to worry is minimal." Now standing before me, he reached his hand toward my face, brushing my jaw line with his fingers.
I bit my lip and closed my eyes against his touch. "I…I love you so much, Erik. You are my destiny, why else would you have discovered me in the bowels of the opera last year?"
"And I love you. It is you who breathes life into my dark soul."
My heart ached whenever he spoke of his tragic past. I wanted to go to him, to hold him and to make love to him, yet I resisted and pushed forward.
I straightened up to my full height and shook a finger in his direction.
"Do what you must, but remember what I've just told you; and if Christine turns you out, do not even think of me, for I will have moved on with my life. I will not be anyone's second choice. Don't think that I am not strong enough to make it on my own in your century. I will do what I need to."
Erik focused on my face; in his eyes I saw understanding. He knew that I meant what I said; his Gabrielle was no frail little flower.
Erik nodded decisively. I met his eyes and he wrapped one arm about my waist and gently pressed my head to his shoulder with his other hand.
No words came to either one of us during our embrace; no words were necessary, only the reassuring solid warmth of our bodies mattered.
Eventually I disengaged my self from Erik's embrace to remove the cassolet from the oven. Donning an oven mitt, I slid the bubbling dish from the oven and placed it on a nearby wire rack to cool. Erik stood by, looking out of sorts.
"I believe I am a tad hungry, Gabrielle. Shall we eat together in the dining room dear?
I twisted my body to answer him. "Lunch, why, what a brilliant idea Erik. Go wash up while I finish up here."
I wondered what made him change his mind about food so suddenly.
The midday meal sure was interesting; the Roux's joined us at the table, and I must say, conversation was beyond stilted. Erik knew that the Roux's had prior knowledge of the Comte's death, and eventually our polite conversation rolled around to the subject.
"The Comte de Chagny's accidental death; you must have known Marie, would not your sister have clamored to tell you of the news?" Erik said with a smidge of sarcasm.
"Monsieur, please understand, that when Henri and I learned of the news, we were shocked and saddened and did not wish to speak of it." She countered apologetically.
"Lest the old fool DuPuis revert back to his phantom-like idiocy, should he discover the Comtess' widowhood?"
"No, no, Monsieur. It was out of respect for her memory. We rather thought that the Persian would have informed you," Henry spoke up in defense of his wife.
"It is a surprise that he didn't. It's a very tragic business it is."
"Tragedy is all one may count on in life, Monsieur." Erik's dark voice has put us in a somber mood for the remainder of the meal
My stomach was still tender from last night's bout of sickness. I hadn't eaten much and excused myself early, making an excuse that I needed to wash the dishes so I could work on my writing. Half way to the kitchen it happened again; that queasy watery, churning, feeling.
No, not again. Too far from the water closet, I dashed into the kitchen and relieved myself into an empty dishpan.
Madame Roux was at my side in an instant, holding my head and asking me if it had been something I'd eaten.
"I don't think I've gotten food poisoning, Marie. I've been doing this for three days in a row, I think it's a sort of gastrointestinal virus."
"My such a large word, dear," she said this as she wiped at my face with a wet dishcloth.
My head felt like it weighed fifty pounds when I lifted it from the dishpan to meet Marie's eyes.
"I mean, what else could it be?"
Her expression turned serious, "Gabrielle," she whispered, "Could you be with child?"
"Huh—me? Oh no, Erik and I, we take precautions"
The French woman shook her head and held out one palm like a stop sign.
"Gabrielle, no, I do not wish to hear the intimate details of your liaisons!"
"Forgive me Marie."
I tend to forget that in an odd past future kind of way, the Roux's are older than my great grandparents, the Berhows.
Silently I counted backwards to the last time Erik and I made love without protection. Two, maybe three nights ago was it? Well I'm no expert, but morning sickness takes a bit more than three days to rear its ugly head. Previous to that, we always used either protection or counted the days in my cycle making sure to hit it on the safe days.
Whew, home safe, I thought.
"No Marie, I'm not in the family way, it's probably nerves. As you know my life's taken some sharp turns as of late. That's all it is."
"Yes dear, there, there, go rest, I'll clean up here. You need not bother about supper. Go rest, be peaceful, it will do you good."
"Okay," I said washing out the pan. "I surrender."
I climbed the narrow servants stairway to the second floor. I didn't feel much like stopping in the dining room and answering questions as to why I suddenly felt the need to yarf my lunch.
The flu or whatever nineteenth century plague I had contacted kept up a vigilant dance in my stomach the next day.
The considerate inhabitants of DuPuis Manor allowed me to rest and rise at my leisure and I was thankful.
After three trips to the water closet there was nothing left for me to expel and I threw on my dressing gown and slippers for a trip downstairs for tea and toast.
The manor house was still. I checked the hall clock, nine am; Erik must be asleep, but where are the Roux's? Saturday, oh, right. Today is the day they'd planned a trip to the next province to visit their church friends, the West's. They would return Monday. Normally I enjoyed having the house to myself—It meant that I could be me, wear what I wanted, talk as I wished, and openly demonstrate my affections for Erik. At the moment, I craved companionship to take my mind off of the situation at hand.
Like loose mortar, the truth tumbled down upon me. What horrible timing; Erik leaves for Pairs tomorrow morning. I'd have three days alone to stew about Christine's machinations upon my fiancé.
My stomach lurched again. Look here you, I said squeezing my arms about my midsection and bending forward there is no reason for this; you have nothing inside of you…stop it! I ordered my churning belly.
"Talking to your imaginary friend are you my sweet?"
- 0 -
Well what do you think? The next chapter will address Gabrielle's next move (Erik's too, of course). Confusion, delusions of human emotion, misunderstanding and, god help them, missteps made in the name of love will litter the fictional landscape of the next few chapters. Hang in there and please continue to review.
-Leesa
PS-Thank you for your reviews, especially those of you who are new, if anyone wants some comic relief, go to my reviews and read some of them (which will it be Erik, a living or a dead bride?) LOL