“Lapierre and his family know who you really are. They weren’t talking about something rumored. They’ve seen you work and have been the recipients of your generosity. They’ve seen your real personality. They know you and now so do I. I’ll never look at that bust of Molly the same way again. That statue speaks volumes about your character.
“I feel I now know what a true gentleman should be. I don’t mean the ones who open doors for me or give me their hand as I step down from a carriage. I mean a real gentleman who truly cares what I think and what my needs are, a man who’s willing to forgo his own desires just to show respect for mine. That’s what you are, Erik.
“All the time I’ve been down here, I’ve watched you, and I’ve been in awe, but there was always a doubt that it might not be the real you—that it might be an act. But now I know. Tonight I saw the truth. Tonight has given me much food for thought.”
She pulled away from me and looked down at the ring on her finger, twisting it. Then she looked up into my eyes. “I feel privileged that you’ve singled me out and have let me come to know the real Erik. I thank you for that privilege.”
“You leave me speechless, Christine. I don’t know how to respond.”
She laid her palm on my cheek and spoke ever so softly. “No need to, my Erik. No need to.”
I took her hand and kissed the inside of her wrist tenderly. “I love you so much, Christine, and I want you as my real wife as never before. With each passing moment, that desire grows stronger.”
She barely whispered, “I know.” Then she turned and looked at the tall clock. “I realize it’s late, but we shouldn’t neglect your treatment. I’ll get the water boiling.”
I knew I should have told her that I could do it and that she should go to bed, but I didn’t want her to leave me, so I let her continue into the kitchen. Then I backed into my music room and changed into my dressing robe, all the while thinking about my special angel. Soon I had a fire started and was in my usual spot on the divan with my injured leg on the table in front of me.
Christine smiled softly when she returned but didn’t say anything, and neither did I. She knelt beside me, removed the bandage, and when she laid her palm across the stitches, I almost lost complete control. Her touch only increased my desires, causing me to hold the pillow on my lap, lay my head back on the divan, and close my eyes.
“Erik? What’s wrong?”
I cracked my eyes open and looked at her, trying to find a good lie, since I obviously couldn’t tell her how badly I wanted to take her as my real wife.
I shook my head. “How is it looking? Do you think I need to use the oil again?”
She scrunched her face. “I’m sorry, but, yes, I’m afraid so. It’s looking better, but just to be safe I think we should do it again.”
“I figured as much, so I’m preparing for the pain. Go ahead.”
I closed my eyes and waited. It hurt but not nearly as bad as before, and not bad enough to stop my desires. Then to make matters worse, she laid her hand on my knee and massaged it as she applied each new compress. By the time the treatment was finished, I thought for sure I was going to explode. It was probably the longest 20 minutes of my life.
She cleaned up and then stood behind my chair and looked at me on the divan. “Is there anything I can get you before I retire?”
Oh, if she only knew what I wanted to ask for she wouldn’t call me a gentleman again, but I continued to play the part she wanted and needed. “No, thank you. You’ve done enough. I hope you sleep well.”
“Thank you again, Erik, for the splendid evening.”
“It was my pleasure.”
Then she was gone, and I could bang my head against a wall or do something to get my feelings under control. The majority of my life I’d been able to control those desires, but I was totally unprepared for true love to be thrown into the equation. In the past, it was always only lust I had to control, and I did. But, with love at the core, my lustful feelings were quadrupled, and I feared they would overtake me if I didn’t find a way to control them.
I got up and began pacing through my parlor, trying to cool my body and change my thoughts. I walked into my music room, at first, thinking my music might help, but, with a second thought, I knew even it wasn’t powerful enough. I put my hands behind my neck and stared at the ceiling, wishing I had Molly or any of my horses to ride and ride until I could gain mastery over my torturous thoughts and desires. I would have gone to César, but, with additional police on the lookout for Christine and me, I knew that was impossible.
Then, abruptly, I opened the door and charged up the passage to the third cellar and back down again. I repeated that process a few times until my wound was beginning to burn and I stopped, but my lustful desires hadn’t. I growled with frustration and turned in circles with my palms pressed against the sides of my head. When I stopped, my sight landed on the switch to the motion alarm on the lake, and I felt for sure I had the answer to my problem.
I quickly turned it off, stripped off all my clothes, including my mask, grabbed a towel, and ran for my docking room. After opening the viewing window and turning on the light, I dove into the water beside my boat and swam down through the small hole; then I swam and swam without letup. I kept swimming until both my limbs and lungs were burning, and then I stopped and floated on my back until I caught my breath.
I was extremely cold, but that was better than what I’d been feeling. This will have to do until she’s my wife, I told myself. I then swam slowly in circles, looking for the light from my docking room. Shortly, I spotted a faint light, and I headed for it. It was either the light from my home or the light that streamed down from the air vent on the other side of the wharf, so I wasn’t certain where I’d end up.
I was freezing by the time I recognized it as the light from my docking room, and my teeth were chattering by the time I was climbing the stairs to my door. I was still drying off as I cautiously cracked the door open and looked for any signs of Christine. Without seeing any, I walked into the warmth of my parlor.
I quickly entered my music room and shut the door; then I put a dry bandage on my leg and warm clothes on my body. After I got a glass of brandy to warm my insides, I wrapped in a blanket and sat close to the fire. While gazing at the flames flickering, I felt in control again, and knew then how I could survive my new challenge until Christine made her decision.
I couldn’t let her dress my wound again. That was too close and too dangerous. My emotions were becoming harder for me to maintain, and I couldn’t be less than the gentleman she expected and deserved. I’d have to take care of my wound before she got up and after she retired for the night. Then if I waited for her to leave in the afternoon, I could treat it myself at that time. All my problems were solved, or so I thought.
The next morning went fine. I was finished with my wound and had breakfast ready by the time she was up. Then while eating, she expressed her disappointment.
“I apologize for sleeping so late and making you care for your wound by yourself.” I shrugged it off, but then she announced, “I don’t want to go to see Mummy today.”
I swallowed hard, thinking this could be a problem. “Why not?”
“I don’t know. I just want to stay here with you. I noticed you have a chess board. Would you teach me how to play? I’d like to learn.”
“Certainly,” I replied eagerly. “How about after your lessons?”
She agreed, and I was relieved. Teaching her would be a good distraction for both of us. Hopefully, she might get so wrapped up in it that she’d forget about my wound, and I might get so caught up in it that I could forget about her. It was a perfect solution, and it worked out perfectly. She was just as good a student in chess as she was in music, and before either of us knew it, it was time to meet the boys with our food. Then over supper she made another good suggestion.
“Do you think we could go for another carriage ride tonight?”
I set my wine glass down and smil
ed at her. “I would like that.” I laid my hand on top of hers. “Perhaps, soon, we can take a carriage to a restaurant where I can show off my wife to something other than these cellar walls.”
She nodded. “I hope so.”
“However,” I told her, “if we’re going to make a habit of these rides, we need to change our routine. I’ve found it’s easier to stay ahead of those looking for me if I don’t have a regular pattern to my activities. So, tonight, I’ll take you out my private entrance in the back.”
Her eyes widened, like a child expecting something special, and I smiled. Sometimes she was simply too cute, and it was hard to keep my hands off her.
That night, the carriage ride was similar to our first one, and so were the ones to follow, but I changed the order of the places we visited. We rode around the city and out into the countryside. We talked about the moon and the stars, and I showed her some constellations that she didn’t know about. We’d even burst out in lyrics when one of us said something that reminded us of a line in an opera, and then we’d laugh.
Part of the time we sat quietly, with both of us in thought about memories unearthed by something we’d said, or we were simply silent and enjoying what we were looking at, especially me, considering I was watching Christine.
During those rides, I felt my life was near perfect, and the only thing left for me to ask for would be to take her out in the light of day and eat and shop in public. Well, I could ask for more, but that was all I could ask for as long as we were only playing at being married.
While I really wanted her as a real wife, the part we were living right then was very important to me. To be close to her and to share my thoughts and feelings with her and then to watch her as she shared hers with me was precious.
Then there were times when I was so comforted by the sound of her voice, along with the comforting sound of the horses, that I drifted into a hazy tranquility. It was during one of those times that I envisioned another special evening for us, and I knew exactly what I wanted to buy her for that occasion, a red evening dress, a ruby necklace, and gold hair combs adorned with rubies. I would have a special dinner prepared for us so we wouldn’t have to cook, and I would play my violin. I smiled at her across from me and could picture the evening perfectly.
That first night, I kept us out extra late, hoping she would be so tired she wouldn’t want to treat my leg, but it didn’t work. She was talkative all the way home, even bubbly. When we entered the door, she turned in circles with her arms out, making it difficult to release her cloak from her shoulders.
“What a wonderful night for a ride,” she sighed with a large smile. After taking a few pieces of chocolate from the bowl, she headed for the divan and picked up the book she’d been reading. “I only have two chapters left in this book, and I’d like to finish it before I retire. Do you mind?”
“Not at all. I also have something I’d like to finish,” I replied while walking into my music room.
Good, I thought. I’ll play something soft and relaxing, encouraging her to get sleepy, and then maybe she’ll forget about my leg. But it didn’t work out that way. After about an hour, she appeared in the doorway.
“That was a good book, but not as good as Jacob. I’ll get the water hot, and when you’re finished we can take care of your leg.”
She started to leave, but I stopped her. “No! Wait! I don’t know how much longer I’ll be, so you should go to bed. I can take care of my leg myself.”
I returned my sight to the keys, but she stayed in the doorway until I finally said, “Good night. Sweet dreams.”
She still didn’t leave, and then she started that dreaded conversation—or should I say argument.
“What is it, Erik? You’re not acting right.”
“Am I? I’m sorry,” I said, hopefully convincingly. I waited and then glanced up at her for only a second and then quickly lowered my eyes again.
“You’re hiding something, Erik. What is it?”
“Who? Me? No, I’m not. I’m just concentrating on this piece. I’m sorry if I gave you the wrong impression.”
I looked back down at the keys and she stayed where she was. Then she blocked my beautifully executed plan.
“Very well, I’ll find another book and be reading until you’re ready for your treatment.”
“No, Christine,” I said with a bit too much emphasis. “I can do it myself. You need to go to bed.”
“Now I know there’s something wrong. I can tell when you’re not being honest with me. Why aren’t you letting me help you tonight?”
“It simply isn’t necessary any longer. It’s nearly healed, and in two more days I’ll be going back to the doctor and he’ll take the stitches out. I’ve appreciated your help, but your sleep is more important tonight. It’s very late.”
She almost started to leave but then stopped. “Did I do something wrong? Is that why you don’t want me to help you?”
“No, you didn’t do anything wrong. It’s just not necessary. I don’t need to burden you any longer.”
“But I enjoy taking care of you, and isn’t that what a wife is supposed to do?”
“Well, yes. But then a wife is supposed to do a lot of things that you can’t do.”
I bit my tongue and knew that was a stupid thing to add to the conversation, and she knew it also. I struggled nervously for a simple way out, but I couldn’t find one. Apparently, my lack of quick thinking also added to her concern.
“Erik, what’s wrong? What is it that you’re hiding?” All I could do was stare at her blankly. “Well, I know I’ve done something wrong, and you just don’t want to hurt my feelings and tell me. So, I’ll leave you alone.”
She turned and left the room with such a hurt expression replacing her earlier happy one that I had to follow her.
“No, Christine, listen to me,” I blurted out. She turned and looked at me, and I shook my head. “You’ve done nothing wrong; in fact, you’ve done everything right—that’s the problem.”
“Then there is a problem.”
“No . . . Yes . . . The problem is in me, my sweet, not you.” I groaned, turned, and leaned my forehead against the doorframe. “Oh, Christine.”
“What is it, Erik?”
I looked at her. “It’s no secret how much I love you. And you know I want you for a real wife.” She nodded slightly. “Well, the longer you’re down here with me the stronger those desires are becoming. I’m trying to be a complete gentleman, but . . .”
“And you have been, Erik, amazingly so.”
“And I want to keep it that way. But there are times . . .”
“Yes?”
“There are times when you drive me crazy.”
She frowned. “Why? What do I do wrong?”
“As I said, you do nothing wrong, that’s the problem. You do everything right, and my responses to your actions are perfectly normal. But they’re premature. I shouldn’t have . . . I shouldn’t allow these feelings I have for you to be so strong. But I can’t seem to help it. There are times when you touch me . . . especially when our skin touches . . . especially when you touch me here,” I said while laying my hand on my wound. “I nearly go mad with desire, Christine.”
“Oh!” she gasped as her hand covered her open mouth. “Oh! I’m sorry, Erik. “Oh!” she said again while turning away from me. “I see.” She turned back and looked at me and then nodded. “I understand. I thought it was . . .”
She just stared at me until I encouraged her. “You thought it was what?”
“Never mind.”
She turned and started for her bedroom, but I stepped quickly toward her and grabbed her arm, turning her around. “Wait a minute, my dear. You won’t let me get away without finishing my sentences. Now you have to finish yours.”
She looked down at her fingers twisting my ring. “I thought I was the only one who was having that problem. I didn’t know I was causing you . . . I’m sorry, Erik. I never want to cause you more harm. I won’t pres
sure you again about your leg.” She looked up at me. “Please forgive me.”
The moments that followed were silent as we both looked at each other in a new light, a very dangerous light. I let go of her arm and moved back, uncertain what I should do or say next, and I believe she also was uncertain. Ultimately, she was the one who gained her wits enough to break the silence first.
“Good night, Erik. I hope you sleep well.”
I believe I only nodded, and she stepped into her room and shut the door, while I stared at it. When I finally managed to move, I did so slowly. The realization that she felt about me the way I felt about her was actually frightening for me. How was I going to cope with this new information? I thought about Oded and all his advice to me when I was courting Vashti, and I felt a desperate need for him and his advice. I felt I needed him to stay in my home with us until she made her decision. I didn’t trust myself, and from the expression on Christine’s face, neither did she.
We’d just stripped off a layer of that mask I’d told her about the first night she was there with me, and I wasn’t certain if it was a bad thing or a good thing. Removing our masks from our hearts was necessary if we were ever to reach that point I wanted us to reach, but I never imagined it would be so frightening. I looked at her door and wondered if she was also frightened.
The night was long and slow. I only gave a momentary thought to sleeping, but I knew it wasn’t in the cards for me—not that night. By the time Christine came out of her room in the morning, I had our breakfast waiting to be cooked, and I was in my chair by the fire with a cup of tea in my hands and many thoughts in my head.
Our morning routine was a subdued one; neither one of us ventured into a conversation about what had happened the previous night. I presume we were both cowards. By the time she was prepared to leave for Madame Valerius’, I was working on my mask at the dining table. I looked up at her when she came out of her room, wearing the boy’s costume with her new black cloak over her arm.
“I think I’m ready for my visit, but I don’t know if I’m ready for Meg or Raoul. That’s why I thought I’d wear this cloak. Maybe I can hide from them if I see them,” she explained.
Through Phantom Eyes: Volume Five - Christine Page 50