When the train arrived in Perros-Guirec, they acquired a small carriage to take them through town.
"Erik, do you know where you would like to stay, or may I make a suggestion?" Christine asked while the carriage gently rocked them down the road.
"No, Christine, I had not exactly planned ahead. I just knew that at this time of year there would not be very many travelers so I safely assumed we could find suitable lodgings in town at one of the local inns. However, since you are very much more familiar with this city than I am, if there is anyplace you would care to stay in particular..." He gestured towards her, giving her way.
"My father and I always stayed at the Inn of the Setting Sun, near the bay."
Erik smiled and tapped on the wall of the carriage to order the driver to their chosen location.
Erik spent most of the carriage ride to the inn in silence, watching Christine with adoring eyes as her gaze swept across the countryside villages. He knew that she would have been re-living many memories from her past and felt no desire to interrupt that. At one point she got very nearly teary-eyed then took a deep breath and sighed. The love he felt for this beautiful creature before him nearly overwhelmed him at times. He had to remind himself that she did not, could not feel the same way about him, therefore he must keep his distance rather than act upon the impulse to sweep her up in his arms and never let go.
The carriage eventually came to a stop and Christine quickly exited after Erik and waited as he paid the driver with his head low under his hood.
Christine picked up her bag and started towards the Inn across the street. It was a quaint little place, slightly shabby, but clean and bright. It was a place where her father had exchanged many a performance in the supper hall in exchange for a room for the two of them for the night. Christine then recognized a rather plump and older woman working in the garden out front.
"Madame Beauchamp? Marie? Is that you?" Christine called.
The old woman straightened, brushing a few stray locks out of her face with a soiled-gloved hand. "Now, I would recognize that voice anywhere!" she exclaimed. "Mademoiselle Christine Daae!" She dropped her garden pick and removed her gloves as she walked to greet her at the front gate.
Christine dropped her bag and gave the old woman a large hug and she in return squeezed the breath out of young Christine in her excitement at seeing the young lady again.
"How have you been my dear? Let me take a look at you!" she said with an appraising eye. "My, how you've grown since the last time I saw you!" Then she spotted Erik, in his fine hooded cloak coming up the walk with the rest of the luggage. She could not see his masked face. "And who is this fine gentleman? No doubt, he's none other than you're sweetheart le Vicomte de Chagny! I always knew you would marry one day!"
Christine's face fell. Erik dropped the bags on the path in his shock.
Christine quickly corrected her, "No, Marie. He is not Raoul," Christine thought quickly, "How very rude of me for not introducing you. This is monsieur..." Christine stopped, suddenly aware that she did not know his last name.
Erik stepped in, "Monsieur Erik Durand," he offered his hand to Marie whom she politely took.
Christine added, "He is an old friend of my fathers, and my music teacher."
"Oh, well then, any friend of M. Daae is most welcome. I suppose you will be wanting separate rooms then?" Marie asked awkwardly.
Erik recovered enough from the shock of hearing himself as being recognized as the rich young man, Raoul, enough to pick up the bags and reluctantly nod to Marie. His cloak had fallen back slightly from his face, revealing a small bit of his mask.
Marie tried to get a better look, but decided she was being rude and was thoroughly embarrassed enough at her accidental identification of the strange yet graceful man whom had accompanied Christine. She offered to show them in, leading the way inside. She left the two of them in the front room to get the guest book from the small office adjoining it.
Christine raised an eyebrow and whispered, "Durand? You never told me your name before and to be quite honest I had never thought to ask it."
"I must apologize," Erik whispered back, "It is not my real name, as I have told you that my name was quite accidental. It is a name I use from time to time when necessary."
"I see," Christine replied. She was still quite embarrassed at what Marie had said outside. Surely the finery of his clothing and not seeing his face could have mistaken anyone. She wondered what Erik was thinking or feeling after all that awkwardness. Before she could ask, Marie returned to the room.
Christine watched the passerby's out the front window as Erik signed the guest book and paid for lodgings for the entire week.
Marie showed them to two adjoined rooms in the upstairs hall. "This was the room you used to stay in with your father was it not?"
Christine nodded as the sight of the room caused memories to sweep into her head.
"Well, everything should be in order. Ring if you need anything at all. Christine, it's so good to see you again!" She gave one last look at Erik's masked face, which now shone brightly in the gas light and dismissed her curiosity.
"Its wonderful to see you as well," Christine replied as she shut the door behind her.
Erik stood silently in the corner of the room, watching Christine. She could tell that every muscle in his body had been tense during the entire exchange.
"Its ok Erik, you can relax now," she smiled at him. "She can be a bit overwhelming at times, but she means well and has a kind heart."
"Christine, you know I am not used to being around, well, people most of the time. But when I heard her call me..."
"Yes, Erik. I know. It was rude of her to presume to know who you were. Just please take in mind that she knew Ra... the Vicomte very well too, as he had frequent visits here. It was not her place to assume I would end up marrying him, although we were frequently teased as children that one day we would be." Christine could tell that her attempts to calm him down were failing miserably and with every mention of Raoul, he grew more hurt and ill tempered.
"Why would anyone assume otherwise? You are practically engaged to the boy!" he said, his voice growing into a growl with each word.
He made to leave the room when she stepped in front of him and stopped him with her large blue eyes and hurt expression. "I am not engaged to him, nor do I plan to be. And I severely tire of everyone else telling me otherwise," she exclaimed rather coldly.
Erik was completely taken aback by her sudden fierce defense. He immediately felt badly for jumping to conclusions. His entire plan to get her away from him for this one week in hopes that his absence might help her to forget him, and so far, the entire time there was spent arguing over him.
"I'm sorry my dear. Please forgive me. It's just that..."
"What?"
"He is entirely unworthy of you," Erik said wearily.
"Don't you think that's for me to decide?" she asked.
Erik could not answer. A lump in his throat had suddenly grown dangerously large. He tried to clear it, only half succeeding. "Christine," he whispered standing slightly closer to her, "Its just that I..." The lump was back and the tears had begun to sting the backs of his eyes.
"Yes, Erik?" Christine said softly.
"Well, It's just that I care for you so very much," his voice wavered threatening to crack.
"I know you do, Erik," she smiled at him and touched her hand to his arm.
Erik could not go on to say what he so badly needed to say. "We had better separate and freshen up for supper. I should like to take you someplace wonderful to dine." He managed a weak smile towards her as she nodded and opened the door that separated their rooms. "I shall knock when I am ready to leave, my dear."
He made to leave and she stopped him once more, "I just wanted to thank you for bringing me here. You have no idea how much it means to me."
She closed the door behind him and he sighed to himself, "And to me as well."