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No Easy Way	By : secretlysecretly Category: M through R > The Phantom of the Opera > Het Views: 7568 -:- 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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Chapter 41

Raoul was at a loss. Marianne had been no less than frantic, crying openly in his arms, letting all of the pain she obviously was feeling engulf her and consume all of her senses. The woman in his arms had been absolutely desperate. She had clung onto him as if he were the only constant separating her from losing her grip on sanity altogether. She had given up all control, letting her emotions take over as she cried brokenly for all that had been lost to her when she had been so harshly separated from her lover.

Lover… he could hardly associate the simple word with Erik Destler, the man he had always thought of as the Phantom, a man who would stop at nothing to get his way. And Marianne, his sweet, innocent cousin who had always been a hopeful romantic, set on spending the rest of her life unwed in case she wouldn’t truly fall in love. She was one of those people who believed in everlasting love that could overcome all obstacles, regardless of race, social or economic status.

No wonder she had fallen for a man who couldn’t possibly be any less compatible with her! Raoul couldn’t help but feel enraged at the way that monster had taken advantage of Marianne’s vulnerable spirit. His cousin had indeed proven to be the perfect victim to that sick man’s advances.

Obviously he had used his questionable charms to conquer the innocent heart of the young maiden. For the life of him though, Raoul could not comprehend what had drawn his cousin to her new neighbor. Erik Destler was nothing if not hideous in his deformity and Marianne had informed him she had laid eyes upon what lay beneath the mask and did not find him repulsive.

Erik Destler was temperamental to say the least; his outbursts most likely to drive away anyone foolish enough to harbor any feelings besides disdain for him. Alas! Marianne swore he was the most tender-hearted man she had ever encountered. She was adamant in her conviction that ‘her Erik’ as she called him acted out because of his inability to reach out to another and open his heart for fear of being rejected as he had been all though his miserable existence.

Erik Destler was certainly a selfish creature, ready to kill if need be to have his own way whenever anyone would refuse to cater to his ludicrous wishes. However, Marianne insisted that once her lover had let himself believe she harbored feelings for him, he had turned out to be the most giving person she had ever had the pleasure of consorting with.

Raoul could swear his mind was about to burst as he contemplated all of the reasons Erik Destler was the worst possible choice his cousin could have ever made, and what scared him to death was the fact that Marianne had not only given herself to the notorious Phantom in heart and spirit, but body as well. His blood turned cold at the thought that Marianne had lost her innocence to that fiend, the mere notion of that ogre touching his cousin’s body unbearable to the Viscount.

Marianne had recounted to him how her relationship with Erik Destler had evolved and had admitted that they had consummated their ‘love’ right after Christine’s departure from Rouen. She had also confided in him regarding the fruit of their unbridled passion, stating that she was pregnant to that monster’s bastard and determined to dedicate the remainder of her days caring for the babe, giving him or her all of the love that its father had been deprived of all through his life due to the deformity he bore on the right side of his face.

His first reaction had been to rage against the notorious menace who had been terrorizing Paris not too long ago, reminding his cousin how close her lover had come but three years ago to killing him in order to keep Christine to himself against her wishes.

At the mention of his wife’s name though, Marianne had lashed out, insisting that Christine wasn’t at all what she appeared to be. That was when his cousin had started crying openly, and she had not stopped sobbing ever since, until she had given in to her fatigue and, spent from crying, had fallen asleep in his arms. He had been unable to stand still ever since that moment, trying to let all of the information his cousin had offered sink in.

Marianne had recounted everything that had happened ever since she had met Christine at their aunt’s house, telling Raoul about his wife’s strange behavior, informing him of all the comments the Viscountess had made which had struck her as odd. She had not stopped talking until she had told him of his wife’s hasty departure from her mansion, informing him of her abhorrent behavior ever since she had encountered Erik at the ball, and continued her tale with all that had transpired after Christine had left, ashamedly admitting she had made love with Erik and finished her narration with everything her lover had revealed to her, even showing her the note which Christine had sent to him as he in turn had recounted their torrid encounters when they had met anew in Rouen.

Raoul had been admittedly livid at that point, unwilling to believe his wife would ever betray him like that, but couldn’t help being reminded of the way Christine had transformed in the years following to their wedding. The woman who was now in the other room bore little resemblance to the girl he had fallen in love with when he was still a young lad.

The way she had treated her surrogate mother and sister was proof enough of the fact and, although Raoul hated to admit it, her conduct towards Erik who had been her guardian angel throughout her childhood and teenage years was another proof of how shallow and ungrateful his wife truly was.

In the end, it all came down to whom he believed. His wife or his cousin?

Many a time during the years of their marriage, Raoul had taken everything his wife said for granted, but this time something didn’t ring quite honest to him. Marianne had always been an outspoken person, even naively so at times.

Raoul smiled to himself as memories of their childhood years flooded his mind of when he and Olivier were two boys in puberty and Marianne a young sweet girl at the age of eight would follow them around everywhere they went, trying to integrate herself in their games.

For all of the leisure time the three shared, for all of the instances they had been caught stealing sweets from the kitchen or endangering their safety because of some silly game he or Olivier had come up with, Marianne would always cave in and take the blame for their boisterous behavior while Raoul and his friend remained silent and let her receive the scolding and punishment all alone.

It was juvenile and silly, he knew, but still those memories reflected the view Raoul had always had of his cousin. Marianne was trusting, honest and always willing to take full responsibility for her actions. The notion of her lying to alleviate any form of pressure from her person was totally foreign to her; Raoul could swear it was and always would be so. Therefore, the very idea that she would try to put the blame for her current situation on Olivier and Christine was absolutely unfathomable to him. Marianne had been one of a handful of people on his family’s part to fully accept a ballerina as his wife. She had openly defended his choice a few years ago and he needed to take that into account as well. The evidence he had bore witness to by his wife’s own hand was overwhelming to the fact.

Yes, in the end it was the word of his wife against his cousin’s and, as much as it pained him to admit it, Raoul had to accept that Christine had lied to him. However, now was not the time to deal with his wife’s dishonesty and selfishness; Marianne was facing the prospect of a loveless marriage to a man who, according to her, was blackmailing her into joining her life with his, less she wished to see her lover imprisoned or even worse hung. Worse than that, she was bearing that man’s child and, apparently, Olivier was wise to the fact.

Knowing the Baron, Raoul was certain the child would grow to know the wrath of its surrogate father while Marianne would spend the rest of her life paying for the crime of falling in love with the wrong man.

Man? When had he become so soft to think of the Phantom as a man rather than a monster? It must have happened when Erik had let Christine go away with him while he disappeared into the endless darkness in a last attempt to remain human while the mob was set out to hunt him down and kill him like the worthless animal they deemed him to be.

Or perhaps it had occurred when he had seen Marianne weep frantically over his seemingly lifeless body after he had been run through when Raoul had realized that somebody in this world actually respected and cared for the monster who once lived beneath the Opera House; a cursed genius trapped in the body of a monster nobody else besides Madame Giry had ever considered human.

Raoul knew though the change had fully blossomed during Marianne’s narration of how her relationship with the Phantom had come to pass. Instead of pitying him, Raoul had finally come to fully respect Erik Destler when Marianne had informed him her loved had proposed marriage to her the following day to the consummation of their raw passion for each other.

If Erik Destler had ever considered taking revenge on Christine and himself by seducing his cousin and then abandoning her, deflowering her would have been enough. On the contrary, Destler had put his petty egoism aside and fully embraced his connection to Marianne, proposing marriage to her after they had shared a night of love-making. Indeed, Erik Destler had proven to be a good man; perhaps even a better one than him since Raoul had only asked Christine to marry him following to the events of that fateful night when he had come so close to losing his life in order to save his lover from her imposed fate as the Phantom’s wife.

No! The more he thought about it, the less sense his previous conceptions seemed to make. Could Erik Destler and his cousin really be the innocent victims in this strange situation as it had evolved? Unable to stand still any longer, he started pacing the room like a caged animal. He looked back to his wife as she slept serenely, a beautiful smile curving her lips.

How could a woman so beautiful be a liar? How could he ever accept that she had tried to deceive him? Could Marianne be mistaken? Could she have misconstrued Christine’s words and actions through all this? What of the letter though? When his wife had offered him an explanation regarding the note she had sent to Erik Destler asking to see him one last time, it had all made sense to him but now that Marianne had recounted the whole story as she saw it through her own experience, Raoul couldn’t help but feel betrayed by his young, lovely bride.

Something had to be wrong. He walked over to his wife’s sleeping form ready to wake her from her slumber to question her on the incident but suddenly thought better of it. He knew he couldn’t refuse her anything. He knew she would persuade him she was speaking the truth. What if she truly had tried to betray him? What if Marianne would spend the rest of her life paying for his gullibility and inability to face the truth?

He sighed, taking a step back from the bed and then another. He slowly retreated back to the door, his mind screaming at him to be firm while his heart begged him to leave things as they were and return to his previous trusting ways. He needed to believe Christine was honest but something was eating him up inside.

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Late afternoon found Raoul sitting in an armchair next to the bed his wife occupied, studying her tranquil face as she slept. Her eyes fluttered open and a few moments later she focused them on his face, slowly registering the curious way in which he was studying her. She ventured a smile but, taking in his scrutinizing gaze, the smile froze on her lips and her eyes drifted to the window.
“Have I been sleeping long?”

Raoul didn’t answer her right away which struck Christine as strange, but his smile appeased her apprehension and put her mind at ease.

“No my darling. Apparently you needed the rest. It is still quite early actually.” he replied calmly.

“That is good to know since I would be very pleased to take a stroll in the premises.”

“That is a lovely idea my love. I think I shall join you.” her husband offered.

“There is no need for that my darling. You must be quite tired after our trip.”

“Not at all so Christine. I would be delighted to join you for a leisurely stroll around the estate.”

“But you haven’t slept! I would hate to think you would…”

“Do not worry my love!” Raoul quickly interrupted her. “I am not tired in the least. In fact, it would do me a world of good to join you in your promenade. Unless of course you wish to be alone?”

His wife blushed for a moment and Raoul felt his heart constrict in his chest at the idea that he had probably been right in his assumptions and that Christine was set on visiting Erik Destler in his mansion. She regained her composure though and laughed off her embarrassment.

“What kind of talk is that? I would like nothing more than for you to accompany me on my walk.” her smile was radiant as she stood from the bed and started dressing.

For the first time in all of the years he had known Christine Daae, Raoul felt like he didn’t know her at all, but despite the insecurity that was awoken in him he was now more than ever determined to find out the truth about this strange situation he had found himself in.

Therefore, he smiled to his wife pleasantly and waited for her to get ready for their walk. Just as they were exiting their chambers and Christine draped a shawl around her shoulders, she turned to her husband and coolly inquired as to the state that Marianne was in.

He tried to shrug her off but she insisted.

“Raoul, I can’t even begin to imagine what came over her. One moment we were having an easy going conversation with each other and the next she attacked me as if she were mad! Did she say anything to you? I am so worried about Marianne!” Christine tried to appear as worrisome as she could.

“Do not trouble yourself Christine. I am sure she meant nothing of it.”

“But Raoul, she was screaming at me! Didn’t you see how she attacked me?”

“I am convinced it is premarital jitters.” he soothed her and opened the doors so she would exit before him. As they wandered around in the garden, their conversation gradually died down and each became lost in their own thoughts.

When they returned to the mansion, Christine retreated in their chambers and Raoul went straight to Marianne’s room in order to check on her.

He knocked hesitantly on the door, but no reply came. He tried again and this time Marianne’s faint voice reached his ears.

“Come in.”

He opened the door and peeked his head inside to find her still lying on her bed, a frail figure, her skin so pale that it scared him.

As soon as Marianne realized it was him, she averted her eyes from where he was standing shamefully. Sensing her discomfort, Raoul approached her bed slowly and sat on the edge of the mattress.

“Are you feeling better Marianne? Were you able to get any sleep?” Raoul asked kindly.

Without meeting his gaze, Marianne nodded her head silently.

Raoul, unable to see his cousin wallow in this self-induced misery any longer pressed on. “Dear cousin, please look at me. I cannot see you suffer like this.”

At once, Marianne brought her hands to her face trying to block out her cousin’s kind tone. “Oh Raoul, I’m so ashamed! How can you bear to look upon me after everything I have told you?”

“You have nothing to be ashamed of Marianne. Please stop torturing yourself so.” Raoul tried to console her.

“How can you say that? I have single-handedly ruined Erik’s life as well as my own, shamed my family and now I am being blackmailed into a marriage to a deranged man who once I called my best friend!” she wailed, tearing her hands from her face and crying openly before him.

“I still fail to see how any of this is your fault Marianne. I will not deny I was awe-struck at first upon hearing of your… involvement with Erik Destler, but that is no crime. You fell in love cousin, love makes fools of us all. Surely you don’t think that you should be punished for the rest of your life for that.”

“You don’t understand Raoul! After all that has happened, I still don’t regret a single moment I spent with Erik! Those brief instances were all I have to contain myself now that I am doomed to spend the rest of my life apart from him.”

“Marianne, you have to stop blaming yourself for everything that has happened. I told you before. You did nothing wrong!”

Marianne stared at the man before her as if he had grown another head and shook her head from side to side, unable to comprehend how he could be so forgiving after everything she had told him earlier.

“I know you are wondering why I am being so calm about this. If Philippe were in my place he would be hollering right now, calling you a desecrated harlot, wouldn’t he?” he stated bluntly. “However, I am not my brother, nor do I believe I am entitled to judge you and your choices. The way I see it Marianne, you are no different than I. You love Erik Destler, of that I’m certain. I can sympathize with everything you are feeling, I have felt it myself. When I first stated to my family that I was determined to marry an opera singer, they all but disowned me for my choice in a wife. I fear I should have listened to them then since time has proven they were right but at the moment I was certain that I was making the right choice. Who is to say that because you are a woman you cannot live your life the way you choose?”

Taken aback by his statement, Marianne stared at him with eyes wide like saucers for a few seconds. “I want you to know that I don’t blame you for anything that has happened. I still think of you as my dear cousin who is the most honest, trustworthy and loving person I have ever had the chance of knowing.”

“Raoul…” she whispered with renewed hope but was cut short when he gently shushed her.

“I want you to calm yourself and to have faith that everything will work out well in the end. After all you are pregnant and all of this stress cannot be good for your baby.” he finished with a kind smile.

Marianne nodded her head dumbly and moved to get out of bed.

“What are you doing?” he immediately asked.

“I have to make ready for dinner. Olivier will be arriving any second now. He will be angry to find I’m still in bed.” she explained dejectedly.

“You needn’t worry about Olivier my dear. You need your rest and to remain calm.”

“But…” she tried to reason with her cousin.

“That’s enough of that my dear. I shall excuse you and make arrangements for your dinner to be sent to your chambers.” he stated matter-of-factly.

Resigning herself to her cousin’s will, Marianne lay back in bed and made to pull the covers over her form once more. Raoul assisted her, tucking her in and leaned in to press a tender kiss on her forehead. In response, Marianne granted him a sweet smile and relaxed her muscles to accommodate herself.

Satisfied that she seemed to be more like herself again, Raoul rose from the bed and walked to the door. As soon as his hand reached the knob and turned it to exit the room, Marianne’s voice reached his ears, timid and small like that of the little girl she once was.

“Raoul, are you ashamed of me?”

Without turning, Raoul smiled to himself and spoke in a steady voice. “I could never be ashamed of you Marianne.” and with that simple statement, he closed the door behind him and descended the stairs towards the dining room.

He entered the salon adjoining to the dining room with a debonair quality about him that reminded Christine of the ravishing young man who had once courted her so feverishly when she had still been a star-eyed innocent maiden who believed in the Angel of Music and whose heart would melt every time she received a large bouquet of pink roses from the young Viscount. The aura of power he exhumed had blinded her to everything around her, including the passion she felt for the Phantom and the glittering life as a Primadonna that had been promised to her.

All that had crumbled before her eyes when she had discovered she felt no love for her lover, but she had followed through in their relationship nonetheless, choosing money over love and security over the cold uncertainty of the life of a Primadonna. Raoul had compensated her frugally for her choice, offering her everything money could buy, loving her unconditionally despite of her shortcomings as the wife of a noble. Her husband was indeed a good man, one who tried to do anything in his power to make her happy by his side, but it had never been enough for her for; in all honesty, she had never loved him back.

At first she had been dazzled with the riches and security her new life had provided her with, persuading herself that his love for her would be enough to make her happy, but less than a year into their marriage she had grown bored of her life as his wife, seeking excitement outside of their marriage. The first time she had taken on a lover had been hard for her. She had cried the whole night after she had returned to their home, silently cursing herself for her despicable act while her husband slept soundly beside her in their bed.

However, the next time Raoul had been away on travels for business related matters, she had grown so bored that she had run to the waiting arms of her lover with little care for her misdeed. After that second time she had cheated on her husband, she had never stopped seeking pleasure outside of their marriage. Unbeknownst to Raoul, she kept herself available for any handsome man who admired her beauty and grace and there had been quite a few through the years. That way, she had managed to keep the best of two worlds. Having the capacity to sustain all of her material needs, the security her husband’s name offered her and the carnal pleasures she received from her endless stream of lovers.

At first she had been foolish enough to confide in Madame Giry and Meg regarding her extra-marital affairs, but the elderly ballet instructor as well as her best friend had been abhorred to hear of her endeavors, trying desperately to convince her that her life of sin would only lead to her destruction. They had insisted that she cease her lies and honor her husband who had single-handedly transformed her life, but she had scoffed their remarks as ridiculous, stating that all of the women in her circle enjoyed their lives outside of their marriage beds, taking on lovers to compensate for the fact that their husbands were tied to them out of duty rather than love. When her surrogate mother had insisted that this life of sin would lead to her demise and her daughter had chastised her for the way she was betraying Raoul, she became determined to cut off all of the bonds that connected her to her old life.

The only instance in which she had made one final attempt to meet the two women again had been the last time she had visited Madame Giry when she had found out that the ballet mistress had fallen gravely ill, casually informing her surrogate mother that although she was loathe of the way she lived her life, she was the only one who could offer her the much-needed money to assist in her recovery but the elderly woman had refused any help from her or her “poor husband” as she had called him, icily informing her that the man who had once been known as the Phantom was still alive and providing her with a hefty financial assistance monthly, and that neither her daughter nor herself needed anything from a woman as cheap as her once surrogate daughter had become.

Upon hearing of her mentor, Christine had inquired as to his whereabouts, insisting that the once vibrant woman now lying in her deathbed before her tell her what had become of him, but Madame Giry had been adamant, coolly stating that she had done enough harm to Erik with her frivolous spirit when she had left him for the Viscount. When Christine had insisted, telling the woman who had served as her surrogate mother that not a day had gone by when she wouldn’t think of her Angel, Antoinette Giry had regarded her with disdain for a few seconds and had merely told her that perhaps Erik’s loss was her punishment for her actions.

That had been the last time Christine had seen Madame Giry, storming out of the plain house, the wise woman’s words still ringing in her ears as she ran to her carriage and took off for her lover’s apartment. There, she had lost herself in Pierre’s embrace, letting herself succumb to his dark caresses and forgetting all about her childhood fantasies that had transformed into the hollow existence her life had become of her own doing.

She shook her head trying to clear her thoughts and turned her attention back to Baron Dervaux who was standing next to her, a drink in his hand. “Raoul, how is Marianne? As you can see, Olivier is already here for dinner.”

Raoul smiled pleasantly and nodded his head in salute to his old friend. “I am afraid she is still under the weather. I just left her room and she is sound asleep. Apparently the preparations for the wedding have taken their toll on her.” he offered, walking to the liquor cabinet to serve himself some brandy.

Olivier made to place his own glass on a nearby table, but Raoul stopped him when he saw he was ready to exit the room. “My dear friend, I regret to inform you that tonight you shall have to do without your lovely fiancé’s presence.” he said, smiling politely.

“I shall pay her a visit. You know Marianne, she is always putting her health in jeopardy. Hearing that she has spent all day in bed however, I can’t help but be worried about her.”

“Do not fret dear friend; I assure you she can’t wait to stand by your side before the altar in two days. Perhaps it is for the best that you don’t see each-other until tomorrow night. That way you will miss her even more, don’t you think?” Raoul offered in what he hoped was a jovial manner, trying to conceal his anger in view of Olivier’s irritated response to the news of Marianne’s absence from the dinner table.

Unable to press the matter further without giving away his annoyance, Olivier took the drink back in his hand and sipped the amber liquid, letting its warmth flood his veins. “You are right Raoul, it will be good for us to miss each-other before the wedding.” he nodded his head, winking at his old friend suggestively.

Fury exploded in his heart as Raoul noticed the glint in the Baron’s gaze, but he tried to remain calm and half-smiled as Gerard the butler entered the room and informed them that dinner had been served.

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Two hours later, Raoul found himself lying next to Christine, trying to put his thoughts into perspective. He was determined to find out the truth for himself. He needed to put his mind and his conscience at ease. He needed to believe he was a better man than Erik Destler. The only way to do that would be to face his enemy one last time and hear what he had to say for himself. It would be hard but he knew he had to give Erik Destler one last chance to prove he was a man worthy of the love of a woman such as Marianne. Otherwise he knew he would be forever plagued with doubt of whether he had made the right choice.
The brotherly love he had always had for Marianne flourished in his heart, making up his mind for him. The dawn was not too far now. Tomorrow morning he would visit Erik Destler and both of their fates would be sealed forever.

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A/N: So people, what do you think?
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No Easy Way