I Do – Chapter 20

Despite the dim light Christine makes it to the bottom of the stairway without incident. Another gaslight, similar to the one on the landing, provides a modicum of illumination to the foyer. After so many month of living beneath the opera house in the apartment Erik created, she has become more comfortable with semi-darkness than the sunlight streaming through the windows of this house.

Even so, this place and the unfamiliar shadows have her on vaguely on edge. The conversation this evening about death and murders, particularly Raoul's death are likely the cause. Despite being happy to see Madame and M. Khan, a part of her wishes they were not here. That their presence has upset hers and Erik's intentions in coming here. This was supposed to be about Erik finding his family and their marriage – not more rehashing of the past yet again.

What she really wants to do is wander around outside the house in the garden – feel nature around her as she did when she was younger – offering her prayers for calm and understanding directly to the heavens. The chapel would have to suffice – her edginess will not allow her to leave the premises.

"Mlle. Christine, I thought you would be asleep by now," Pere Charles says.

The unexpected voice startles her, sucking in her breath, pressing a hand against her chest to quell her heartbeat. Finding her voice, she replies, "I thought so for you as well."

The priest rushes toward her, sensing her dismay and confusion. "I am so sorry I frightened you," he says, "I was unable to sleep and" holding up his black leather office "I always have my prayers to fill the time."

"You never sleep the night through?"

Shaking his head, his smile is rueful. "The quiet of the night allows for few distractions. In any event, prayer directs my life – there is a great deal of comfort in having such consistency."

"I suppose so. My life has always been ruled more by whim. If there was a set job for us, then things were more settled and a routine was set. Otherwise, Pappa and I would travel to the next place – often staying only a day."

"Did you pray?"

Christine nods. "Morning and evening…grace with meals. Prayers of thanksgiving when a benefit was received – be it work or a kind word. Pappa was a strong believer in God. It was this faith that kept him pursuing his dream of music. He often spoke of the Angel of Music – how the angel would always protect us…and then me after he died."

"Erik?"

"Or so I believed," she laughs lightly. "He did turn out to be very much an Angel. With the exception of my father, there has been no one more protective and loving…or strict, as far as music is concerned. He also makes me laugh – I cannot recall ever being so happy when in another person's presence."

"You love him, then – no question – even after this evening's conversation?"

"Yes," she says simply. "I cannot imagine my life without him."

Pere Charles nods. "I find myself quite smitten with him myself in a sense. I wish I might have known him as a child – what a life he could have had with us."

"True, but then I would not have known him."

"God's plan, certainly. Look, it is still early for Matins, might I interest you in a cup of cocoa – I believe there is some fresh cream if you need extra enticement."

"I was going to pray, but I suppose enjoying some private time with you will suffice. God's plan as you say."

"Good." Offering his arm, he lifts his head to scan the stairway. Had the shadows shifted ever so slightly? No doubt an angel was keeping watch. "Perhaps we can make some plans for the wedding."

"I should like that," she says, taking his arm as they walk to the kitchen.

Feeling mildly foolish, Erik lifts himself from the stair he dropped onto when Pere Charles made his presence known to Christine. While he felt certain he was not seen, the priest seemed to be aware of his presence on the stairway.

Thankful the older man did not take steps to call him out, he relishes the recollection of Christine's words of praise and devotion to him. Had he been revealed, her opinion might have changed – she likely would have scolded him for following her.

The feeling of things being out of sorts still gnaws at him. Nadir's arrival brought with him a cloud of suspicion something was awry. The safety and calm of the visit here is gone.

Padding down the rest of the stairs, he makes his way to the front door. Locked. So the priest senses something as well. Likely why he was up and about – the hour still too early for his regular prayer schedule as he explained the rituals to him.

Where to go? The kitchen is out. The idea of Christine and Pere Charles discussing wedding plans brings a smile to his face. A wife…he is to have a wife…and what a wife. And she is talking to his uncle…family. A sense of anticipation fills him with warmth.

Perhaps a prayer would be appropriate. Mildly shocked at the thought, he mutters, "Why not?"

As he turns away from the front door and moves toward the panel leading to the chapel, a slight noise coming from inside the room shifts the pleasant glow of anticipation of the future to chill raising the hair on the back of his neck stopping him in his tracks. Instinctively, he reaches inside his topcoat to retrieve his garrot.

Holding his breath, he returns to a now distant past as a predator.

"You must be like a cat. Never allow the prey to know you are close, otherwise you will fail."

Erik nodded.

"We may be thieves, but we do not believe in a cruel death."

"But you believe in death – you always kill your victims?"

"It is all about survival. They have food and money. We need those things to survive."

"But why not just take the food and money?"

The leader of the thugees looked him up and down, then laughed. "A quick kill."

Despite the understanding he might die himself, he could not kill the man whose money bag he stole. His training was such as to take him to the brink, but left him alive. That night he would leave the band of thieves. Taking enough food for a few days and the swiftest horse, he left Punjab and made his way to China. The thugees were an unforgiving group.

Taking the time to focus on the paneling, he allows his eyes to adjust to the dim light and listens for any other noises in the house. The scent of frankincense fills his nostrils. Not unexpected, the chapel was redolent with the fragrance. However, the hint of musk is new to the room, but not to his senses.

"Daroga?" he whispers.

Taking the time to point the gun down and away from the doorway, Nadir carefully uncocks his pistol. "Taking nightly stroll?" he asks, stepping into the dim light

"I might ask you the same thing," Erik replies. "It would seem none of us is getting much sleep tonight. My uncle and Christine are having cocoa in the kitchen."

"Ah, so that is who I heard."

"You heard something…someone in the house?"

Nadir shakes his head. "I am not certain. I could not sleep. All the talk of the Chagnys got me thinking. This room was the only place I knew in the house other than the sitting room. A small gust of air brushed against me – as if someone opened a window or door…"

"Thus the gun?"

The Persian nods.

"Pere Charles locked the front door."

"But did he open it first would be my question."

"Do you suppose someone started to come in, heard him, then changed their plan?" Erik mulls aloud. "Once he and Christine left the foyer, I checked the door myself – the only thing that drew my attention was the change in fragrance coming from the chapel."

"You smelled me?"

"Your musk is rather strong – not unappealing, mind you, but combined with the sandalwood…" The clearing of his throat completes the thought.

"You are one to talk with your cinnamon and myrrh."

"Hardly noticeable."

"Only if one is a room's length away."

"They are holy oils."

"Burial oils."

"Well I have been referred to as a walking dead man on occasion."

"In any event, you smelled me and stopped considering anyone else was present – not very good detective work."

"And you? You put your pistol away."

"Touche," Nadir grudgingly agrees. "Well, if there was someone with idea of coming in the house, that person is not here now."

"What do you suggest we do – check the grounds? Could have been a petty robber and long gone by now."

"You do not believe that."

"No. Neither do you."

"The Comte?"

Erik nods. "Or someone he hired to follow you."

"The thought has been with me the entire trip here," Nadir says. "I considered turning back, but did not wish to alarm Adele."

"So you saw someone?"

The daroga shakes his head. "More just instincts."

"What is going on?" Adele calls from the balcony. "I woke up and discovered Christine was gone. I was unable to go back to sleep and thought I would look for her."

Isis comes from behind her, running down the mahogany stairs to Erik to rub herself against his legs.

Scooping her into his arms, he accepts her nuzzling against his face. "I am sorry I did not make you welcome, my dearest. Christine insisted you stay with her."

Nadir rushes to the stairway, meeting Adele halfway, and takes her arm to assist her descent. "It would seem no one is able to sleep tonight."

"Christine is in the kitchen with my uncle having cocoa," Erik says. "Perhaps we should all join them…better than just standing here in the foyer. At least she cannot accuse me of stalking her."

"As you likely were," Adele sniffs.

"Yes, but since everyone else has been roaming about, she might be more forgiving."

"No doubt. She seems to forgive most anything you do, however, upsetting."

"Have you been hypnotizing her?" Nadir asks. "I recall you were quite good at that in years past."

"Hypnosis?" Adele gasps. "You have been hypnotizing her?"

"Only once."

"Are you certain it has worn off, she seems quite smitten with you," Nadir jokes. "I cannot imagine why."

"I am quite as surprised about her feelings toward me as you are…more so, I suspect," Erik retorts.

"Only once?" Adele persists.

"Just that first night – otherwise, she is with me of her own free will."

"What about my free will?" Christine asks, walking into the foyer followed by Pere Charles. "And what is everyone doing out here talking? Were you watching my room?"

Erik sighs. "I told them I only hypnotized you once and, yes, I was watching your room, but Nadir was watching the house. All of us appears to be on edge tonight, so I am begging your forgiveness." With a short bow, he brings Isis over to her, cocking his head.

"Of course," she says, rolling her eyes as she takes possession of the kitty.

Pere Charles bursts out laughing. "No need to quarrel over someone's concern, my dear. You yourself said you were uncomfortable…I suspect Erik was only wanting to be certain you were safe. I must admit I was anxious this evening – enough to lock the doors…something I rarely do."

"Did you happen to open the door first before locking it?' Nadir asks.

The older man frowns then shakes his head. "It never occurred to me to do so. Does it matter?"

"Only that I felt a draft of air when I was sitting in the chapel."

Pere Charles shudders. "Then my instinct was correct."

"Thankfully you did not encounter whoever it was – if someone was trying to come in," Erik says.

"Well, now I am completely awake and standing here in the hallway is not helping my legs or back," Adele complains. "If we are all going to be awake all night fretting, can we at least be comfortable?"

"Of course. Of course," Pere Charles says, waving them to follow him back to the sitting room. "I might even suggest a small brandy for each of us."

"I would be fine with tea," Nadir says.

"Or more cocoa," Christine chimes in.

"Brandy sounds good to me," Adele says. "Medicinally, I find it helps ease my pain."

"I agree," the priest laughs. "Erik?"

"Your Armagnac is quite nice."

"Then it is settled…Christine, might you help with the tea and cocoa…Erik can pour the spirits."

"Of course," Christine replies. "Isis would certainly like some of the heavy cream."

"You all go ahead," Erik says, pressing a hand on her shoulder. "I shall just make certain these rooms are secure."

"I will join you," Nadir says.

"Very well, but do not be long…I think the ladies and I will feel better when the two of you are with us."

Watching them leave, Nadir says, "What is it?"

"I thought I heard something brush against the door…probably nothing."

"Or possibly something."

"Or possibly something."