“I wouldn’t think of crossing the Phantom of the Royal Opera House,” he replied with a chuckle. “You have my word as a man. I shall cherish her until my dying breath.”
Erik looked at Andrea feeling the need to do something he had never done before in their entire relationship. He took a step toward her, embraced her tenderly, and kissed her on the cheek. “Be happy, dear friend.” He quickly released her and saw her eyes fill with tears.
“I will,” she promised, wrapping her arm around Richard. “I will.”
He turned to leave, but Andrea asked the one question he feared. “Will you marry Désirée?”
Erik halted and did not turn around immediately to face the question he held no answer to. After a strained minute of uncomfortable silence, he turned toward Andrea and answered truthfully. “I don’t know. I’ve always dreamed of having a wife and being like everyone else. I’m fearful of that commitment right now, and I’m not sure why.”
“She may wish for more, Erik, and what if…”
He raised his hand quickly in protest to the words. “I’ll face the what if’s if they ever arrive,” he told her. If he could not think of marriage, he certainly did not wish to entertain the thought of siring a child. “One thing at a time.”
“Of course,” she replied with understanding.
Erik turned and left the two lovebirds alone to pursue their marriage and honeymoon. He missed Désirée and hoped she would return soon, but dreaded the news regarding her mother’s health.
Chapter Thirty
Désirée had heard of mental institutions, but had never dreamed the horrors her eyes beheld or her ears heard. Mount Carmel Hospital’s ward for the insane turned out to be a madhouse of screaming souls.
Before they allowed her to visit her mother, the physician led her to his office and had closed the door behind them. He offered her a seat in front of his desk, and she sat nervously in the chair, bracing herself for unpleasant news.
“I’m afraid that your mother has not responded to treatment. I don’t want you to be shocked upon what you see,” he warned her, pausing briefly before continuing. “But I should caution you that we have had to keep her restrained for the majority of her stay her with us.”
“What do you mean restrained?”
“When you visit her, you’ll see her tied to her bed with arm and leg restraints. It’s for her own safety, because she often becomes violent with the staff acting as if she wishes to stab them repeatedly.”
“My God,” Désirée gasped, bringing her hand to her mouth as tears welled in her eyes.
“We have sedated her somewhat, so she will be more subdued for your visit but a bit groggy, I’m afraid.”
Désirée nodded her head in acknowledgement. “May I see her now?”
“Yes, of course.”
Désirée followed the doctor down a long white corridor, hearing the screams of men and women behind locked doors. Occasionally, a face would appear in the small window with glaring mad eyes watching her as she passed by, often yelling obscenities as the demons inside enraged their actions. She wanted to clamp her hands over her ears to stop the sounds, but before she could respond, an attendant took out a ring of keys and at the doctor’s instructions, he unlocked the door.
The doctor paused before entering. “We are doing our best to bring your mother back to health, but the prognosis is not good at this point. The attendant will stand in the room with you for your safety should she attempt to harm you.”
“She won’t hurt me,” she reassured him, even though she remembered her hand slapping her across the room that night she had lost all sense of reality.
“It’s merely a precaution and a safety measure we take with all family visitors. Patients in this state of mind are often unpredictable in their behavior.”
The doctor nodded, and the attendant released the latch. He pushed it open, and Désirée slowly entered the stark white room with bars upon the window. She glanced at the hospital bed that held her mother bound in a prison of cruel leather straps and encased in white sheets. Her heart broke into a thousand pieces.
Tears welled in her eyes as she walked to her bedside. Sybelle’s eyelids were tightly shut, and a grimace outlined her jaw. Désirée wondered if she experienced pain from the tight restraints.
“Mama,” she called in a light whisper that failed to rouse her from slumber. She lightly placed her hand upon her arm and called again. “Mama, it’s me.”
Sybelle’s wild eyes shot open, and she turned her head in the direction of her daughter. A sickening wicked laughter escaped her mother’s mouth. Désirée had thought she would be groggy, but suddenly she appeared awake.
“Ah, my daughter, Theresa!” she jeered. “You’ve come to visit your insane mother at last, have you? How long has it been? Weeks? Months? I’ve lost count.”
“Mama,” Désirée cried. “You’re not insane, just ill. I want you to get well, Mama.”
She turned her head away from her daughter in anger. “You left me to rot in this hospital and now you come.”
“They arrested me too, Mama. They were going to charge me with conspiracy to commit murder, but Erik—”
“Erik!” her mother interrupted. “You dare to say that name in my presence! He’s the Ghost.”
“All right then, the Ghost,” Désirée relented. “He made sure the charges were dropped.”
“Did you return to my home?” she asked.
“No, Mama, he brought me back to the opera house.”
“You’re still there? Now you are the insane one! Why haven’t you killed him yet?” she shot back at her with glaring eyes. “You should have taken the dagger from my gullet and thrust it into his heart! But no, you stayed at my side like a weakling and watched me bleed to unconsciousness.”
“Mama, please, don’t…”
Her face turned to a sneer that sent a chill up Désirée’s spine. “He’s put you in a trance, hasn’t he? Just like the other women of the Garnier he put into trances and dragged to his lair to rape their bodies.”
“Mother, that’s ridiculous. Those rumors are utterly untrue.”
Her mother’s hand tried to move to grab her daughter’s but she could not reach her. “Did he rape you, Désirée? Did he? Tell me, so I can kill the bastard when they let me out of this insane asylum!”
Sybelle’s body began to thrash against the restraints with such intensity that it enhanced the bruising already on her arms from her previous struggles. “They try to sedate me,” she screamed in an evil laughter. “But my hatred keeps me alive and strong!”
“Mama, please,” Désirée pleaded. “Erik has not hurt me. We have forgiven one another, Mother! Forgive him, please! It will make you better.”
“Forgive him!” She spit in her daughter’s direction. “You are no daughter of mine if you have forgiven the monster for what he did to you! I’ll see him burn in hell, so he can feel the pain and smell the odor of burning flesh, as I did with you!”
“That is enough,” the orderly commanded, pulling Désirée away from her bedside. “You must go now. Your visit here is clearly upsetting the patient.”
“Mama, I love you,” Désirée sobbed. She wanted to kiss her but feared to touch the madness seeping from her soul.
“He’ll hurt you, Theresa!” Her mother’s words followed her down the hallway as she fled from her presence. “He’ll hurt you! Mark my words, he’ll rip your heart to shreds! Theresa…Theresa.”
Her voice trailed away until she could not hear it any longer. Désirée’s feet ran down the tiled corridor passing the white walls until they reached the door. She begged the guard to let her out, and he did. She shoved the door open with both hands, ran down the stairs to the exit, and into the street. Hot tears streamed down her face.
Her mother’s words rang in her ears like a prophetic omen. “He’ll hurt you. He’ll hurt you.” With each pounding footstep, Désirée cursed the words spoken over her life. Doubt curled around her heart like heavy cha
ins.
* * *
Erik felt broken over Désirée’s news regarding the visit with her mother. The responsibility of her insanity rested entirely upon his shoulders whether it was his or not. The consequences of that night still followed him, even though Désirée offered forgiveness. He wondered if she still harbored anger for her mother’s inability to release him from the past.
“Do you blame me?” he asked, as he held her sobbing body in his arms.
“No,” she replied quickly and firmly. “She makes herself ill because she cannot let go of the bitterness. If she only knew you, Erik, like I do.”
“The chance that will happen is a long way off,” he admitted with regret. “If I could take that night back, I would, but then we…” He stroked the side of her face tenderly with the tips of his fingers. “I wouldn’t have you here in my arms.”
Désirée lifted her eyes. “I would suffer the pain of it all again in a heartbeat if that was the price I needed to pay to be with you,” she confessed soulfully.
How could she say such a thing? How could she love him with such unbridled conviction and forgiveness? Erik struggled to understand.
“Perhaps fate would have been kinder to us and brought us together through other less painful means.”
“But we wouldn’t have the kindred spirit we do now,” she protested. “The two halves making a whole.”
Désirée reached up with her hand, as she had done multiple times before, and tenderly removed his mask and hairpiece. He always flinched. It had been difficult to eradicate the residue fear of possible rejection when he bared his deformity in front of another human being.
She pulled herself into him, kissed him deeply, and then pleaded for what he knew she wanted. “Comfort me, Erik,” she begged. She clung to him as if it were her last dying breath. “Comfort me the way only you know how.”
Erik never resisted her pleas, and with nimble fingers, he assaulted the buttons on her dress while she clawed to undress him. In a profession of acceptance and love, they stripped naked before each other. Their own bodies they loathed but found comfort in each other’s.
Their ritual culminated in erotic lovemaking until they spent each other completely. Nothing could compare to the beauty they found together, or the contentment their souls enjoyed when they intertwined their bodies through intimacy.
When they finished, Erik held the woman he loved and comforted her with his words. “She will recover. Do not give up hope.”
Désirée responded with small weeping sobs. “I love you so much, Erik. You would never hurt me, would you?”
“Hurt you?” he asked, confused over her question. “Why would I hurt you? You’ve given me more joy in my life than I’ve ever known.” His hand stroked her gently. “I will never hurt you.”
As he pondered Désirée’s odd question, he turned the subject to something more cheerful. “Oh, I must tell you,” he added, “Andrea and Richard are leaving for Rome in the morning to wed and go on a honeymoon.”
Désirée lifted her head and looked at him with surprised eyes. “Married? Honeymoon? I didn’t know they were in love.”
“For quite some time, actually.”
Désirée lowered her head back down on his chest. “That’s wonderful news, Erik.”
He wondered if she wished for the same, but couldn’t bring himself to discuss marriage. The concept did not sit well with him. No moral compass ever steered his thinking anyway, so why consider it now? He saw no need for marriage as long as they shared their lives and bodies with each other freely.
She did not stir while he held her tight. “Sleep with me, Désirée. I wish to sleep with you in my arms.”
“Whatever you say, Erik. Whatever you want.”
Erik drifted off into a contented sleep.
Chapter Thirty-One
The two weeks passed quickly, and the happy couple returned more radiant than ever. Erik grinned with excitement upon their arrival. The opera house had been much too quiet without them. In their absence, he had enjoyed himself immensely by mingling among the surprised cast and crew. He introduced himself to the staff announcing that he would be more involved in the daily operations, and felt eager to tell Richard and Andrea.
New life infused into his veins, thanks to Désirée, who encouraged him to share his genius with everyone. Of course, the whispers ensued about the masked man with half a face. Erik remained honest that he had been born deformed and preferred to keep the deformity hidden from society. The take-it-or-leave-it statement left no room for speculation or comment. His relationship with Désirée had begun to heal his sensitivity to the world around him, because he no longer felt like half a man. He had found wholeness in her.
Désirée also became more active in the life of the opera, as Erik began showering her with new clothes so she could appear at his side as a lady at the evening performances. They often frequented his private box together. Her love of music grew, and she insisted that he continue to teach her the violin until she became proficient. Erik’s patience held no bounds, and he encouraged her love of the instrument and love of the arts.
For the first time in his life, his happiness hit a pinnacle of personal and professional success, until shocking news arrived that threatened to test him once more. Andrea requested a private moment with Erik and showed him the morning paper. After reading it, he grabbed a nearby chair and fell into the seat.
“I read it this morning, Erik, in the society section. I couldn’t believe it, and knew you must be told immediately.”
Erik stared at the words again, as he slowly read them one by one to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating.
“Society is buzzing this morning with the arrival of the Vicomte de Chagny and his wife Christine, to our fine city of Valletta. The Vicomtess, a celebrated soprano from Sweden, has been taking a whirlwind holiday tour with her husband across Europe, visiting the various operatic venues in major cities. She has graced the stages from Paris, Berlin, and Venice during her tour and is now planning to visit our own Royal Opera House to celebrate its restoration. Though rumors swell whether she will be asked to sing upon its stage, the word is that they will attend Friday night’s performance in the company of our esteemed Governor, Sir Henry Roberts, and his wife. One has to wonder if the mysterious masked owner will show the other side of his face to welcome these distinguished guests in our midst. I suppose we should all purchase a ticket for the performance of Romeo and Juliet by Gounod this Friday evening to find out.”
The paper lowered, and Erik raised his eyes to Andrea. “Christine is to be here Friday evening?”
“Yes, Erik. What will you do?”
Erik folded the paper in neat folds and handed it back to Andrea. “I’m not sure,” he admitted. “Whatever you do, don’t mention this to Désirée. Let me speak to her privately about it, all right?”
“What does she know of Christine?”
“Not much, I’m afraid. Her only knowledge is of the night I brought the chandelier down to take Christine. Beyond that, she has never asked me about my feelings for her or our past relationship. I assumed if she did know anything, she just preferred not to speak of the past because it held painful memories regarding her injuries from that evening.”
Erik thought of the implications. “I must see her,” he announced with surety. “I must.”
“Do you think that’s wise? What purpose would it serve?”
“Much,” he replied. “I must clear my conscience of many things.”
“Erik, I’m sure that Christine has moved on with her life and is happy. She looks happy in the picture of her and Raoul. I wouldn’t think that seeing you would accomplish a thing.”
“She knows I’m here.” A gut feeling rose within him, and he was sure of it. “I can feel it in my spirit. She’s come to seek me out.”
“Well, I doubt that very much,” Andrea protested. “For what purpose now after all this time?”
“Perhaps she has changed her mind and regrets her c
hoice.”
“Erik!”
He lifted his eyes remorsefully over his words. “I’m sorry,” he muttered. “I was rashly thinking out loud.”
“I should think so, Erik. I wouldn’t think after all you’ve been through that you would consider hurting Désirée.”
“No, no! You are quite right,” he admitted. “I’m just confused and upset. It will pass.”
Erik rose to his feet and walked toward the door. He stopped and reminded Andrea, “Please not a word to her!”
“Of course not.”
After he departed, Erik felt sick inside. Old ties to his spirit tugged at his heart. Christine. Christine. He hadn’t said her name for so long and to think in just a few more days she would be in his presence once more. He had so much to say to her, but how? Erik had to find a way. He would make a way the night of the performance.
* * *
Désirée wiped the tear rolling down her cheek with the back of her hand. Everyone had been buzzing around the opera house for the entire day whispering amongst themselves enough to pique her curiosity. It took little ingenuity on her part to find out why. She sneaked behind the curtains listening to Richard speak to the cast and crew about additional rehearsals before Friday evening’s performance. She heard every word while she stood at the side of the stage in the shadows.
“It seems, ladies and gentlemen, that Friday evening we have a sold-out performance. The Governor and his wife will be attending, along with the Vicomte de Chagny and his wife, Christine. Some of you may not be aware, but she has sung on stage in Stockholm, Berlin, Paris, and Venice. There are no plans for her to perform during her stay here, but the owner wants us to put our best on the line for the evening’s performance. That means additional rehearsals!”
A groan came from the cast and crew. A sickening feeling washed over Désirée as she caught the side of the wall to keep the stage from shifting beneath her feet.
Christine would soon arrive—the woman that Erik had obsessed over for years. Why hadn’t he told her? She wiped her eyes and turned around to make her way back to their quarters when a wave of nausea swept over her body. Not now, she thought to herself. Please not now.
The Phantom of Valletta Page 24