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Forget Me Not	By : spikesbint Category: M through R > The Phantom of the Opera > AU/AR Views: 12354 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own The Phantom of the Opera, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

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A damsel distressed

Chapter 3

Erik was too stunned to move for a moment, as he looked down at the inert figure on the floor. He had been so relieved to find that she still lived, that all else had fled his mind. He had had little thought for how she would react to seeing him again. The only thing that had mattered was finding out the truth. He took off his black leather gloves and bent down to pick her up. She weighed no more than a feather and by the way he could feel her bones as he held her in his arms he could tell just how painfully thin she was. He carried her into the great hall and called out for help.

Moments later, a sleepy eyed middle-aged woman answered his calls for assistance. She was taken aback by his strange appearance as she crossed her chest.

Erik frowned at her in annoyance. “I am not the devil, you silly woman. Madame has had a shock and has fainted. Show me the way to her room.”

She did as she was told, leading him upstairs. He took the flight of stairs with her held tightly in his arms. Finally, they came to a stop outside a door, he kicked it open and walked over to the bed and placed Christine upon it.

“Where is the master? The Vicomte,” Asked Erik, noting that the room was empty of any other occupants.

She looked at him nervously. “If you mean Rene De Chagny, he has a suite of rooms in the east wing,”

“No, I mean her husband Raoul,”

“Then you do not know?” she enquired.

“Know what? Spit it out woman, I am in no mood for guessing games,” he growled at her.

“The Vicomte De Chagny rests in the cemetery, the same cemetery in which her father lies. She buried him yesterday Sir,”

Erik was truly shaken. He had not expected that. He had expected every scenario imaginable, but that. So Raoul was dead. He studied Christine’s form on the bed. If any thing, the years had made her more lovely if that was indeed possible. Her hair still curled in the wild way he remembered. He was almost tempted to reach out and touch a stray ringlet, but he was reminded of the fact that he was not alone.

“And her family?” the words almost stuck in his throat.

“Her family monsieur?”

He sighed impatiently. “Her children,”

The woman looked at him calculatingly wondering just how close a friend of the family he was.

“The Vicomte and Vicomtess were childless,”

Erik closed his eyes for a moment with relief and the woman regarded him strangely. He knew it was small minded of him to wish Christine childless when he knew she would make a loving mother, but it would have just compounded his hurt whenever he thought of her marriage.

“Just who are you sir?”

“An old friend of the family,” he replied with a wry smile on his face.

“Then I had best prepare you a room,” she replied huffily.

He grabbed the woman’s wrist as she was about to leave. “I want the room next to Christine’s,”

“I-don’t know about that,” she replied

“Is Madame Giry here?” he demanded.

“Yes monsieur,”

“Then go fetch her at once,”

He fixed her with a steely glare that brooked no argument. She quickly left the room while Erik sat down on the bed next to Christine. She had regained a little of her colour. He reached out a hand to stroke her cheek. Feelings he had thought buried under time and distance, came flooding back to him. The realisation that he loved her still as fiercely as the day he had lost her, hit him in the chest.

“Christine,” he whispered softly.

She let out a little sigh and he moved away in case she woke up and was alarmed to find him in such close quarters. Erik got up from the bed and paced the room like a caged animal until a tentative knock sounded at Christine’s bedroom door.

“Come in,”

The door opened and Madame Giry nervously put her head around it. A hand went to her mouth. It was true; Erik was here in the flesh. He barely looked a day older than when she had last seen him on the stage. A few threads of silver streaked his sideburns, but apart from that, he still looked as strong and vital as she remembered. She let out the breath she had been holding in as she absorbed the expensive cut of his clothes to the gold chain of his pocket watch that gleamed against the black fabric of his waistcoat.

Whatever he had been doing in America it had obviously paid well. An awkward silence hung between them, their relationship had never been a particularly talkative one. In the early days after she had saved him from the travelling circus, he had not spoken at all. Instead, he had sat in a darkened corner clutching his one toy, the roughly sewn monkey, his only possession in the world. Only through time and trust had she ever breached the walls he had built around himself.

Her eyes travelled to the motionless figure on the bed. Mme Giry let out a cry and rushed over to Christine’s side.

“What have you done to her?” she asked.

Erik was stung by her rashly spoken words. He pulled all the walls back around himself as he looked at the two women.

“I have done nothing. I may have been a bit unwise in showing up here unannounced. It is hardly my fault if she chooses to fall at my feet at the sight of me,”

Madame Giry looked up at Erik angrily. “Do you have any idea what this poor girl has been through?”

“Not until recently. Your note was hardly descriptive. I imagined all kind of horrors on my journey here. I have heard of the Vicomte’s demise. But I am not going to be a hypocrite and offer my condolences,”

“No, if anything you could be accused of, it would not be that. Christine on the other hand has been nursing her dying husband for several months without a word to anyone. Yesterday she discovered that all that she owned including this house is to be left to another,”

Erik felt anger, not at the circumstances to which she had been exposed, but anger, directed at his formal rival, Raoul. How could he leave Christine so unprotected in this world?

“Is it the Rene De Chagny that the housekeeper mentioned?” he asked.

Mme Giry nodded. “Oui, a most unpleasant gentleman on all accounts,” Both of them were distracted by the low moan that came from Christine’s lips. “She is waking, it will be best if you are not here when she awakens. I do not know how much more she can stand,”

“I want to stay,”

“Let me talk to her first. You can see her in the morning. The housekeep is preparing your room per your request,”

Erik hesitated for a moment before quitting the room. Seconds later Christine’s eyelids fluttered open. She struggled to sit up, only to be restrained by Madame Giry.

“What happened?” asked Christine. “Wait! I remember…I was walking through the hall and I heard an approaching carriage. I went to find out who it could be and I opened the door. A man stood there with his back to me and then he turned around and it was…no,”

Mme Giry looked at her. “Who did you see?” she urged.

“You will think me run mad, but I saw Erik,”

Madame Giry took Christine’s hand. “Your eyes did not deceive you,” she told her solemnly.

“He is really here in this house?”

Christine pulled herself out of Mme Giry’s hold and sat up, wishing afterwards that she had not as the room swam sickeningly. She lay back against the sheets in defeat. Madame Giry was surprised as a tear fell down the side of her face and onto the pillow, to be joined by another and another. Sobs wracked her body as her weeping intensified.

“Christine, you will make yourself ill,” said Mme Giry as she stroked her hair.

“All this time…all this time and not one word! He let me believe he was dead. Does he know how long I mourned him?” she asked through her angry tears. “Well I shall tell you! After the fire and no word, I thought he had died. There was a body recovered from the fire, as you know. All these years I thought it was him!”

“Calm down child, you will wake the whole house,” said the older woman, still shocked by her behaviour.

“I am not a child,” she said petulantly.

“I can understand why you are angry, but please do not lay all the blame at his door. I knew he was still alive, but I did not tell you,”

“You are still protecting him Mother Giry…why?”

“I thought it best that you continue to believe that the body found was his. For all intense purposes, he was as good as dead to you Christine. You were another man’s wife,”

Christine flinched at Madame Giry’s use of the words were another man’s wife. It brought back the enormity of her situation that she now found herself in.

Madame Giry rose from the bed and looked down at Christine. “Did Raoul never tell you of Erik’s life before the opera house?”

“No, and I never asked for fear of causing Raoul pain. I would sometimes talk about Erik in the early days of our marriage, but even though we both thought him dead, Raoul would get this look on his face…he always knew that he shared my heart, but he accepted it, but that didn’t mean he wanted to discuss him either. Tell me about him?”

Madame Giry looked at her reluctantly. “I do not know if it is my place to anymore. It was all so long ago. The last thing Erik would want is your pity,”

“I will ask him in the morning,” Christine turned over on her side and stared at the wall, signalling that all talk was at an end.

“Pleasant dreams Christine,” said Madame Giry softly as she drifted from the room.

Christine thumped her goose down pillow in annoyance. Ha, sleep or dreams would be nigh on impossible now. She thought angrily. Surprisingly after a short while her eyelids begun to grow heavy and she was in the limbo of sleep and awake. As she grew sleepier, she imagined that she heard the faint strains of a faraway violin. It was the Resurrection of Lazarus. She would know it anywhere, but it had been so long that she had heard it. Her father had played the exact same tune to her as a child. She was so much older than seven now and all childish fantasies had died the night she had been forced to choose. With a regretful sigh, she slipped into unconsciousness.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

When Christine finally awoke, it was to glorious sunshine and the singing of birds. Her head felt as if it were stuffed with cotton wool. A small movement from the corner of her eye alerted her to the fact that she was not alone.

“Erik?” she asked.

A mocking laugh came from the shadows as Rene revealed himself to her. Christine sat up in the bed and looked at him.

“If you keep insisting on entering my room at a whim I shall have to make sure it is locked at night,” she snapped.

Rene removed a key from his waistcoat attached to a long ribbon. He swung it back and forth and smirked at her.

“Wouldn’t do any good. I now have a key to every room in this house. Although there was only one that was of interest to me,”

“Rene I do not want you. Do you honestly think I would sully my husband’s memory and lie with a dog like you? ” she spat at him.

“You think I care of that? It’s no fun if you come to me willingly,”

“I wouldn’t come to you if I were on my deathbed. If you think to wear down my resistance then you harbour false hopes,”

Rene advanced on her. Christine was unsure what to do. If she got up from the bed, he would see her only in her shift and she did not want to inflame his passions more.

He just laughed at her again. “There is only one thing I want of yours and it lies between your legs,”

Christine gasped at the crudeness of his words.

Why don’t you call for help m’dear? You already know the high opinion the family has of you. Finding me in your bedroom will only compound what they already believe,”

He sat on the edge of the bed. She could tell by the red hue to his cheeks and the glazed expression in his eyes that he was already in the grip of lust. She could have cried with relief as someone knocked on the door. As the door slowly opened, Rene made no sign of removing himself from his position on her bed. He continued to sit there, smirking at her.

What he was not prepared for was the man who moved with inhuman speed, to tear him from the bed and throw him across the room. He hit the washstand, as he fell, banging his head on the hard wooden surface. Rene was stunned for a few moments, before he raised his head to look into the eyes of a stranger. He was taken aback by the fire in the other man’s eyes, and almost seemed to diminish beneath it.

“Touch her again and I will kill you,”

There was something in his gaze that Rene saw, which told him that this was no empty threat.

“And whom do I have the pleasure of addressing?” asked Rene as some of his bravado returned.

“Erik…Devereux,” he replied, his eyes fixed on Christine and the pallor of her face. She had remained silent throughout all that had occurred and he was anxious to know her feelings on the subject of his return. “And I am here as Christine’s guest,” he added.

“I am master here now. I can have you thrown out…” he trailed off as Erik turned to look at him. “But you may stay until Christine leaves. Um yes I must be on my way, lots to do running the estate and all,”

Erik and Christine had long since forgotten his presence as he scuttled from the room. Christine got up from the bed and walked over to him. Erik’s breathing constricted in his throat as she stood inches away from him. She was so close that he could smell her rose water cologne as it came off her skin in waves. He was wholly unprepared for the sharp slap as her hand connected with his good cheek.

She had obviously grown a little backbone over the years. He rubbed at his face.

“It’s wonderful to see you too my love. A mere thank you would have been enough for rescuing the fair damsel in distress,”

She turned her back on him to pace the room in agitation. “Why did you come back and why now? All these years I thought you were dead. I cried enough tears for you to fill an ocean. You were always capable of cruelty Erik, but this went beyond that,”

“I thought it for the best,” he replied.

“You thought it for the best. She mimicked his words. “What about, what I wanted?”

“Christine you made your choice. There was nothing left for me to do but leave. I was trying to be fair to you. I would have moved heaven and earth to be with you, but I was a wanted man. What kind of life could I have offered you?”

“You seem to have done well enough for yourself Erik…Devereux. Where did you acquire such a name?”

“The same way I acquired the name of Erik, by chance. That is unimportant. What I want to know is what that man was doing in your room,”

“He is nothing, its Raoul’s cousin come to take his rightful place. I am to make my own way in the world. Not only do I have no husband, but i have no money either,”

“Let me help you,”

She turned on her heel. The fire in her eyes caused a jolt of white-hot passion to flood through him. She was magnificent in her anger. Erik closed his eyes, trying to get his body under control. She had already had one man try to take advantage of her. She did not need another.

“I am I so helpless? No, I have been going over the possibilities of my life once I leave here. I have made up my mind; I am going to return to the stage,”

Erik’s eyes narrowed. “Where do you intend to go and do that?”

“I am going back to Paris to throw myself at the mercy of Monsieur’s Firmin and Andre. My husband was their patron they have to employ me,”

“You have more faith in their philanthropic tendencies than I do Christine. I can assure you at this moment they will be casting their nets around for a new patron before your husband is cold in his grave,”

Christine turned her back on him and walked over to the window. She was aware that he followed her. She could feel him behind her, so close that she could feel the heat of his body. Christine shivered, even after all these years he still had the power to stir her blood. The feelings that she felt did not befit those of a newly made widow. Christine was deeply ashamed of herself as she wondered how it would feel to lean backwards, melt into his warmth for an hour or two, and forget the nightmare, into which she had been flung. However, something in her heart hardened.

“It’s too late Erik, it’s all too late. It would have been better if you had never returned,” she sighed as she looked out on the park.

Erik was stung by her words, but he refused to give up hope that she would turn to him in her hour of need. He had saved the lonely little orphan, and he was not about to give up on the woman that stood before him. She was too angry to see straight at the moment. She heard the click of the door as he exited the room.

Oh, why had she been so mean to him? Christine felt somehow colder and more alone with him gone. She turned on her heel, looking down as she trod on something that had fallen to the floor. She lifted her foot from it to see her likeness on a tiny cameo. She picked it up to inspect it closer. She turned it over in the palm of her hand to find the initials E. D. engraved upon it. Christine let out ragged sigh and left the room to go in search of its owner and beg his forgiveness for her earlier behaviour.

“Erik!” she called out, only the sound of her echo could be heard in the empty hallway.

She encountered Madame Giry on the way.

“Christine?”

“Have you seen Erik?” she asked.

“Yes, he just left,”

“What do you mean he left?” asked Christine, her voice rising in panic.

TBC
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Forget Me Not