Chapter Twenty-two
"Now, you just lay down and rest, my lord, and everything will be all right-Meg my dear, would you please take his shoes off? He can't sleep in those." Earlier, Madame Giry, Meg, and Celine, another one of the maids, hadn't been able to find the Comte de Bellamy, until at last they'd discovered him in his library, passed out facedown on his desk. From his hand, a glass had fallen and lay in pieces on the desk in a pool of Chartreuse.
"No…no it won't be," Damien slurred, so drunk he was barely conscious. "He's gone…Av-Avery's gone."
"He's in a better place, my lord," Madame Giry tried to reassure him, patting his shoulder gently.
"He's gone…and, and he killed him!" He shouted, lifting a finger and pointing to the row of wanted posters on the wall opposite his bed. The posters, bearing a likeness all too familiar to Antoinette, were slashed with knives or punctured with darts. If only he knew that the Phantom was living under his own roof. Damien tried to get up but she and the others held him down, with a chorus of "It's all right, my lord"'s.
"He killed him," Damien muttered, "and she doesn't love me."
What? That was not something Antoinette had ever heard her master say during on of his occasional alcohol-induced rants.
"She d-doesn't love me…and she won't…'cause of him." He practically spat the word, his face a sickly complexion.
"Please, Master Damien. Please try to rest. Everything will be better in the morning," Meg said, her brown eyes full of concern.
"It'll…it'll be better…when he's dead…"
Meg shot her mother a fearful glance, but Antoinette's emotions were carefully hidden. She had learned to keep her feelings under control many years ago; it had been necessary to protect Erik.
"Shh," Madame Giry hushed. "Sleep, my lord."
They watched as exhaustion overcame the Comte, and he closed his eyes and fell into a drunken slumber. The three of them tiptoed quietly out of the room, Antoinette and Meg parting ways with Celine, who had a few more duties to attend to. They walked quickly through the halls and down the flights of stairs to the servants' quarters, making sure that no one saw them until they were safe behind the doors of their apartment.
"Poor Master Damien," Meg said sadly as she shut the door behind them. "He's such a kind man…I hate to see him like that."
"So do I," Antoinette agreed.
"Who are you talking about?" Erik was sitting at the table writing something, as usual, and had looked up as they came in.
"Our master," Madame Giry said. "He isn't at all well tonight."
Erik scowled. "You shouldn't call him that. You two are not servants, you're dancers, and you shouldn't even have to work for him."
"He's a good man, Erik. For the most part he's pleasant to work for, except in moments like these."
"Oh? What's wrong with the man?"
"Drunk." Was Meg's blunt reply. "He tends to get…upset." Antoinette noticed that her daughter still had trouble meeting Erik's gaze, and wondered if Meg would ever feel comfortable around him.
"Shame. The girl I'm teaching, her father…he's like that. And that's why she's here in Paris now."
"Oh, yes, Erik. That reminds me of something I wanted to talk to you about." Antoinette took a deep breath. "It's about Christine."
She saw his face harden. This wasn't going to be easy.
"You've gone to see her, haven't you?"
"Yes." Erik put his hand protectively over what he had written on the paper before him. It must be a letter to Christine.
"Have you spoken with her?"
Erik looked at the floor, and shook his head miserably.
"Good." His head shot up sharply and he glared at her, but she continued. "Please, Erik, let her and Raoul be."
"Let them be? Why should I? The Vicomte should have let us be!" His voice shook with emotion. "I loved her…I always did…I still do."
"But there is more to it than just love. You're obsessed, Erik."
His fists were clenched and his eyes were blazing.
"I can see it on your face. You're not you when you're thinking of her."
"Then who am I?" he shouted. "I am always thinking of her! She completes me, Antoinette! I need her!"
"No, you don't." She knew reasoning with him would be impossible, but she had to try. "She is not good for you. You're not meant to be."
"We have to be," Erik whispered.
"Listen to me!" Meg suddenly interjected. "You can't go running off to Christine every night! There are soldiers and gendarmes everywhere in this city, looking for you. And there's countless civilians hunting for you too, after the reward money. But did you know that there are people out there who are offering even more than the government has promised to pay? And do you know who those people are? I'll tell you! One of them is the Vicomte de Chagny, and the other is the master of this house!"
Antoinette was proud of her daughter; despite the circumstances, she had always been brave and now was no exception. Erik looked taken aback, but she could tell he was still angry and not ready to back down.
"Yes, so there are people after me. I was already aware of that."
"You have to be careful!" Meg said. "What if Raoul sees you when you go to visit Christine? They're married, they live under the same roof! And believe me, he won't hesitate to kill you."
Erik just gave a single, bitter laugh. "That fool? He doesn't frighten me."
"Don't underestimate him, Erik," Madame Giry warned. "He has more influence than you know. And if you're caught, you'll go to prison, and probably end up at the gallows!" She paused. "And so will Meg and I, for helping you."
"I won't get caught, and neither will you," Erik said through his teeth.
"That's not all I'm concerned about. I'm worried about you. Your heart. When you first came back to Paris I saw a change in you. Something was different. Something good. But now that you've found Christine again, you're just like you were the night after Il Muto."
Erik was silent, but she could see he was seething with anger.
"If you continue to pursue Christine, I can promise you that nothing good will come out of it. You'll only hurt yourself, and maybe others too. You've endured more suffering than anyone I've ever known…why would you want to risk bringing more pain down on yourself?"
"Because," Erik said slowly, "I love her."
"But she doesn't love you!" Antoinette snapped, suddenly angry. "She has a husband and she loves him! Why can't you just accept that and move on? For all our sakes!"
"Because it's wrong!" he shouted, standing up and towering over her. "I'm the one who found her, I'm the one who taught her, I'm the one who loved her first! Who loved her more! She belongs with me!"
"Oh? Then why did she choose to leave with the Vicomte?" She knew her words were hurting him, but they had to be said.
"I don't know!" His voice dropped to a whisper. "I don't know. I thought she…I thought she was coming back." His hands went to the ring on the chain around his neck, and Antoinette's eyes stung a little. It hurt to see him in pain like this.
"But she didn't."
"Who's to say she won't change her mind?" He said icily.
"Who's to say she will? You always say, no one would listen but her, but maybe if you would just open your eyes, you'd see that's not the case!" Erik looked at her quizzically, but she kept speaking. "Christine Daae got her happy ending! Now it's time for you to find yours!"
"Stay out of my life!" Erik growled. "You speak of happy endings, and relationships! What do you know? Your husband left you for another woman!"
Her heart felt like it was going to burst, and her eyes stung with tears. Meg was staring at Erik with an expression of horror and anger and sadness, as he took the letter he'd been writing and put on his black cloak and hood.
"Where…where are you going?" Antoinette struggled to get the words out.
"To see Alana. I'm going to be late for our lesson thanks to you." He stormed out of the room into the empty hallway, and made his escape.
When he had gone, Meg pulled her mother into her arms. "Oh, Maman. Don't listen to him." She held her even tighter. "He's being so awful. We should just turn him in to Master Damien. He deserves it."
"No, my love!" Antoinette cried, her voice tinged with desperation. She pulled away and wiped her eyes. "You can't! He's like a brother to me! I love him, I do. I always have."
"How can you love him when he acts so terribly?"
"Because someone has to." She pushed back a new flood of tears as she remembered the night she first saw Erik, saw him beaten, and mocked by everyone at the traveling fair. "No one deserves to suffer like he has. I know what he's going through…he was right, what he said about your father…"
"Oh, no, Maman!"
She changed the subject. "Someone's got to help Erik. Heaven knows I've been trying for years."
"I don't think you can help him this time," her daughter said gravely.
Antoinette shook her head. "No. Perhaps not. But maybe, there is someone who can."