"I'm impressed," Erik said as the carriage began to rock back and forth on the bumpy road. He attempted to lighten Christine's mood.
"And I'm horrified," Christine said back. "I can't believe I did that to poor Raoul!"
Erik tried not to smile. He would forever carry the memory with him when he needed something to brighten his day, but he couldn't let Christine know that. "I can't say he didn't deserve it; he still did not apologize to you for last night."
Christine gave him an annoyed glance but chose not to comment on his remark. "Why did you not tell me you went to see him last night?" She had to get the details from Erik, the curiosity was killing her. "He seemed rather upset by you."
Erik leaned forward on the bench seat, resting his elbows on his knees and clasping his hands together. "Christine, I spent a great deal of time last night thinking about what he said and what you told me. I decided that you were telling the truth about your feelings towards him. I wanted to confront him so he would know where things stood as far as he needed to be concerned."
Christine motioned for him to continue.
"Obviously he is not taking this well, but I am trying to do what is best for you, and I know how much he means to you. I may hate him, or rather, used to hate him for trying to steal you away, but I have no wish for you to be unhappy," Erik confessed.
"Did you threaten him?" Christine asked, needing to know.
"No. The only thing threatening him this morning was his hangover," Erik smiled, remembering his aching head the previous week.
Christine accepted his story then said, "Let's change the subject my dear. Today is about us, and only us."
Erik smiled, "I wholeheartedly agree with you." He leaned over and placed a kiss on Christine's waiting lips. "What shall we talk about?" he breathed huskily upon her skin, looking into her eyes. He claimed her mouth again, pressing her back against the side of the rocking carriage.
"Erik," she breathed in mock protest between their lips. "We shouldn't…"
"If I remember correctly, you were worried about people seeing us, and now there isn't anyone around," he insisted, clutching the back of her neck to draw her face in closer to his.
"The driver," she gestured halfheartedly.
"…can't see us," he whispered. His hands boldly sank deep into her thick curls and his lips found themselves placing a trail of kisses from her lips to her earlobe which he drew in-between his teeth to gently nibble.
Christine clung to his shirtfront for support against the swaying of the carriage beneath them. She found the tiny voice inside her head feebly arguing against Erik's behavior. The weight of the ring on her finger and the sensation of his lips kissing their way down her neck following the low-cut lacey hemline were more than enough to drown out such inane excuses from that part of her mind.
Erik snaked out his tongue to suck at her neck and nibble at the flesh above her collarbone. Christine felt his previously chill hands grow warm as they held her close. His fingertips caressed her bared skin where the dress parted artfully down her chest to her décolletage. She felt his warm hand pause at the edge then slide down over it to cup her breast.
"Damn this corset!" he growled against her frustrated. His breath tickled her and sent gooseflesh rising on her arms. She laughed lightly at his curses, as she shared them. "If I can make one rule after we are married it will be for you to never wear another one of these damned things again!" he said vehemently.
The rain outside had picked up again and was now beating down upon the roof in an increasingly deafening roar. Erik could hear the swear of their driver cursing the weather and snapping the reins a few times to urge the horses on faster. Erik thought to himself, he was not the only one eager to get back to the inn.
The nervous laughter they shared over her clothing boundaries subdued the intense need of the moment, but did not entirely dismiss it. Erik and Christine kissed each other slowly, memorizing the feeling of their lips on one another's. Erik's breath rasped out his nose beneath the mask as he was unwilling to relinquish her lips to breathe. Before they knew it, the team of horses pulled them into the pathway to the Inn of the Setting Sun. The carriage tires sloshed mud puddles away from their path as the horses clopped their hooves onward, eager to get inside where they would be dry and fed.
When they pulled around the front of the inn, Erik looked outside, "Curse this weather. I had hoped to take you out to dinner, but unless this lets up…" he shook his head, "I don't think I could pay this man enough to persuade him back out in this mess."
As if to accentuate his words, the downpour strengthened and the front of the house could barely be seen between the sheets of rain.
"After you," he gestured jokingly.
Christine groaned, knowing her umbrella would be of little help against this force of rain. She pointed the black end out the carriage door and lifted it open, the weight of water nearly ripping it from her hands. Both she and Erik ducked out underneath its meager shelter and ran for the door, laughing the whole way.
After they sprang through the entryway Erik exclaimed, "I'm soaked!"
"Sorry about your suit," she replied, starting to wring water from her hair onto the rug.
He smiled at her then called for Marie. After a few moments of silence, he said, "She must be stuck in town still. I figured she would have beaten us back earlier."
Christine agreed. She did not wish to call for the maid, knowing her anger at the woman would return for having gossiped to Raoul. "Erik, I need to change out of these wet things," she started for the stairs.
Erik, being even more drenched than she, looked down at his sodden suit and said, "I think I need to as well." He bravely added quietly, "Would you like help undressing?"
Christine's heart quickened in her chest; Yes. She began humming and started up the stairs to her room, trying to be coy and nonchalant. She felt clumsy going before him on the stairs as he followed her up. Her skirts dragged wetly against the steps leaving trails and puddles on the carpet.
Christine could feel him close behind her as she approached her door. He reached around her and turned the handle for her, pushing the door inward. She turned into his arms and pulled him through the door, pushing it out of the way with her back. Erik took two strides, then shut the door quietly behind them.
Christine faced him, her breath coming in anxious gasps in the tightness of her dreaded undergarment. The dim light coming through the window at her back silhouetted her form, causing Erik's hunger for her intensify. He knew what he wanted and he also knew with a certainty that she would grant it to him now. Nervous excitement filled him and he looked for the most mundane of tasks to quell his apprehension. Erik walked past her and started to build up a fire in the small fireplace. His shoes squished wetly on the rug as he crouched down and stacked the logs. A few tries with a flint and the sparks caught the kindling, quickly growing into a warm blaze.
"Is that better Christine?" he asked as he turned around.
His jaw dropped. Christine stood before him in only her corset and chemise. Her dress lay puddled around her feet on the floor. She stepped out of it, her boots still wet and leaving prints on the rug. Boldly, she walked toward him and stood on her toes to kiss him. Erik's body reacted earnestly. This was not the first time seeing her dressed thus, but it was the first time she had removed her clothing on her own will and kissed him. It was the first time since he proposed that they were alone together. He broke the kiss, knowing exactly what he wanted more than anything. Privacy. They would not be disturbed or otherwise interrupted tonight. Erik left Christine standing before the fire, bewildered that he would let go of her. He cautiously drew the curtains closed, then with a pointed purpose, turned the lock on the door. At that moment, Christine felt very much like a mouse about to be pounced by a cat. She was, for once, very pleased to be a mouse.