All right my darlings; here is the next chapter with, as you requested, more from our lovely and twisted genius, Erik. : D

Please thank my betas', Amy and Barb, for the quick turnaround.

-Leesa

Chapter 70 Greetings from Paris

The scarlet seal affixed to the envelope belonged to Erik.

My heart palpitated with both excitement and trepidation when I broke the wax and unfolded the elegant paper.

This was the first communication I'd had with my former fiancé since leaving DuPuis Manor nearly three months ago.

I curled up on my usual spot on the parlour sofa and began to read;

Fondest greetings my dear Gabrielle,


I do hope my letter reaches your hands wherever you may be and that it finds you are well.

I must say, my darling, that upon my return from Paris, I was enraged and dismayed to find that you had left me.

For what unfathomable reason did you feel the need to flee from my loving embrace?

Did I not treat you well? Perhaps the thought of ending your days with a man as ugly as I am repulsed you.

But ah, I think it is the matter of the Comtess de Chagny that causes your discomfort.

It was indeed most indelicate of me to flaunt my past romantic affair in front of you. What woman would appreciate having her wedding date moved back so her fiancé could unravel his emotions?

You see, I have never needed nor cared to concern myself with the feelings of others until I met you. Madame Roux and her sister Madame Giry have already taken me to task for being so boorish.

Your sadness is understandable; your abandonment of me is not.

Madame Roux also found it prudent to alert me of your delicate condition. So you are alone and with child, my child, unless, dare I say it; you've already rid yourself of my monster seed.

But then you are not so callous a woman, are you Gabrielle? I do wonder though; were you planning on informing me of the blessed event or were you bent on punishing me by denying me my rights as a father? The longer you deny me, the harsher your punishment will be.

And what, pray tell, is this ridiculous nonsense about my running off to wed Christine?

My darling, have the changes in your chemistry brought about by your condition addled your brain?


Good heavens, did I not pledge my troth to you mere hours before departing to Paris?

As the letter I sent via special delivery stated, it was urgent business that called me away to Venice, not a wedding to the Comtess de Chagny. I dare say the poor femme-fille was extremely heartbroken by my refusal to romance her.


C'est la vie eh?

You have been very, very naughty, Gabrielle, and I will not tolerate your latest misadventure. You no longer belong to the twenty-first century, my dear, you belong to my time; you belong to me. It is your fate.

Be certain that I will find you and when I do, you will return with me to DuPuis Manor, you will become my wife and you will bear me a child, for I will not allow a woman to betray me twice in one lifetime!


I think it infinitely wiser for you to return to me, post haste, on the next train or carriage. If you force me to flush you out of the English countryside, or wherever you are cowering, the experience will not be so pleasant for you.

The ball, as you are fond of saying, is in your court.

Your obedient servant and loving fiancé,

Erik


Stunned, I allowed the note slip from my grasp. I watched it flutter down and come to rest at the foot of the hearth.

All along, I imagined Erik as the villain and me, the spurned lover. I still wasn't fond of his little flirtation with that woman, but, they hadn't married.

And what letter was he speaking of? The only special delivery letter I received from Paris was the one detailing his intent to travel to Venice for the purpose of marrying the Comtess, not for business.

I noticed my breathing had become shallow, I was lightheaded and dizzy.

Lay down, Gab, take some deep cleansing breathes, I told myself.

Yes, one, two, three, four, good.

I glanced down at the parchment by the hearth and was horrified to see a smear of blood across Erik's salutation.

Egads, how macabre of him! Then I noticed that my thumb was bleeding; evidently, I'd been chewing on my cuticle while I read the letter.

I heard Erik's rich voice in my mind, See there, Gabrielle; things are not always as they seem on the surface.

Was Erik's letter rife with manipulations or sincerity? He would stop at nothing to have his way and I had no doubt that he would hunt me down.

I could reconcile many of the facts before me. Erik had proclaimed his love for me before leaving for Paris. In his current correspondence, he apologized for his insensitivity. From what I gleaned from Christine's appearance at the Opera, he really hadn't married her after all

Okay, but what about the letter I did receive at the manor this past fall? That special delivery said nothing about going to Venice for business, his words were quite clear; he intended to marry Christine and had asked me to vacate the manor house.

Could the letter have been a fraud? I did not think that typewriting it was too terribly odd; Erik would have used the machine if one were at his disposal, and it made perfect sense that he would use an impersonal means for an impersonal message. And the letter did have his personal seal and his signature on it.

If it was a fraud, shouldn't I be overjoyed? Shouldn't I run into Erik's arms asking for forgiveness? Then we would be married and live happily ever after in our manor in the French countryside.

Merdé, Gabrielle, you materialized into another century, not a Walt Disney fairy tale.

Erik often confided in me of how difficult it was for him to trust people, and how hard it was for him to believe that I could love him after what had happened during the first go round with Christine.

I more than understood his reluctance; my own former fiancé, Tony, had betrayed me twice. If once bitten made you twice shy, then what did three times bitten make you; stupid? (

Timid, even if I did go flying back to Erik, my heart would still be tender from the wounds inflicted by his insensitivity.

What a freaking mess. The bits and pieces of conflicting thoughts and information orbited around my head like shrapnel.

One thing was for sure, if I didn't sort through this thicket of details and emotions, my weakening sanity would come completely unzipped.

I needed time and I knew Erik was already hot on my trail.

Finding me in Hastings would not be all that easy, even for that bloodhound of a man, yet it was imperative that I get a message to Mary Ann and inform her of Erik's intentions(,) and the safest route was through Barbara.

Mary Ann would have to prepare for his intense inquisition. She was a pragmatic and fearless woman and she would not be alone with Erik, either; she had her husband George.

I penned a hasty note to Mary Ann detailing the latest news from Paris. I also included my idea for a sleep-over, a novel way for like-minded women to gather for merriment and pursuits of an intellectual nature. I reasoned that, surrounded by my many supporters, I would be better protected against any unwanted visitors.

I prepared the letter to go out with the next day's post. How I missed phones and the internet for quick communication. A reply would not make it back to me until the end of the week at the soonest. Until then, I would visit my neighbor for tea, stew over Erik, and go to the market to purchase material for sewing baby clothes, a few larger articles for my growing girth and flannel PJ's for my impending guests.

Even if the slumber party didn't materialize, I knew my progressive friends would appreciate comfortable and functional clothing for sleeping or lounging in.

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January 28, 1878

Dearest Gabrielle,

Thank you for keeping me abreast of your correspondence from Paris.

I fear Monsieur DuPuis is adamant in his pursuit of you. Trust that you have the complete backing of George and I, Barbara and Eugene, Doctor Garrett and the rest of our circle.

There are at least five of us who welcome your generous invitation to stay at Scalands cottage for a winter reprieve. Please expect us on the morning of your suggested date, February 11th. We, all of us, look forward to this joyous trip and plan to bring with us a number of delectable treats and games with which to delight you.

And oh, do we have a clever plan for the purpose of throwing Monsieur off of our trail should he be nosing about!

Barbara and I will go to Dr. Garrett's home two days prior to leaving for Hastings. There we will stay until the morning of our departure. We've plans to board the carriage from the carriage house so as not to be seen by anyone on the street.

The driver will receive instructions to stop at the front entrance for Dr. Garrett, who will leave with her medicine bag in hand. From there we shall travel to the train station where she will depart first. The driver will circle the block around the station, coming back to allow the remainder of us to board the train to Hastings. Thus, Dr. Garrett should not raise the suspicions of Monsieur DuPuis or his spies.

Fondly,

Marry Ann Evans

I laughed at the last part of her note; these women loved the cloak and dagger element of my life immensely.

Thank the good lord—here was some positive news for a change.

Playing safe but fun games from the future, eating myself silly with every goodie I could get my pregnant lips on(,) telling tales and picking the brains of these eloquent nineteenth century icons was going to be delicious.

And no chance whatsoever of an impromptu appearance from any wayward opera singers!

I had an enormous bit of shopping and preparation to do before February eleventh and I could not wait!

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For those who are worried that Erik won't be around for his child to be born, I don't want to give the story away, but let me just say this, I promise it will be interesting. Now review for me, please. Thank you.

-Leesa