The Phantom of Valletta

by Vicki Hopkins

  Désirée, disappointed over having been kept in the dark, worried whether Erik would do anything rash. As all the scenarios and possible avenues for Friday evening paraded before Désirée’s mind, she felt as if she were on the brink of insanity. Jealousy rose in her heart over any affection that Erik might still hold for Christine. The feeling so sickened her that she scurried to the nearest bath chamber and vomited. When she finished, she decided to keep the news of her pregnancy hidden for now.

  * * *

  “Are you all right?” Erik asked, as he tied his ascot for the Friday evening performance. “You look pale.”

  “No, I’m fine, just a little tired. Your snoring keeps me awake at night.”

  Erik raised his brow over the comment. “My snoring? I don’t snore,” he retorted, dismissing the accusation as purely ridiculous.

  “You do too,” she insisted, coming up behind him and curling her arms around his waist.

  “And you, my dear, talk in your sleep!”

  “I what?”

  “Talk in your sleep.” He sported a teasing grin, waiting for her reaction.

  “I do not,” Désirée protested, a blush rushing up her cheek. She squeezed him tight. “What do I say? Tell me.”

  Erik turned slowly around and faced her. He touched her on the tip of her nose with his index finger in a light-hearted show of affection. “You say, ‘Erik, oh, Erik, yes, yes, yes…’”

  “Oh you!” She pushed him away as he laughed.

  Erik finished putting on his dress jacket, taking a deep breath over what lay ahead. He hadn’t said anything to Désirée, not yet, and had struggled all day long whether to mention the guests.

  “It’s a busy night tonight,” he began, nonchalantly. “It’s a sold-out performance.”

  “I’m not surprised with the Vicomte and his wife in attendance,” she replied snidely.

  Erik swallowed hard and turned to face her.

  “Why haven’t you said anything, Erik? The entire opera house has been one buzzing bee over their arrival.”

  He shrugged his shoulders and pulled his eyes from her blue gaze. “I didn’t wish to worry you, Désirée, with things of the past. They are only here for one performance.”

  “You plan on talking to her, don’t you?”

  “I must.” Erik’s heart sank. He did not want to cause Désirée unnecessary pain.

  “Why?”

  “Because my conscience will not allow me peace until I do so.”

  Erik finished dressing, while his heart pounded in his chest over the thought of seeing Christine again. He glanced at Désirée and witnessed sadness in her eyes.

  “There is nothing to worry about, Désirée,” he assured her, pulling her into his arms. “I love you.”

  “But you once loved her,” she said with remorse, pulling away from him. “Every woman, Erik, fears a man’s former love.”

  She turned from him angrily, which put Erik on edge. He hoped she would not push the boundaries between them to a breaking point.

  After they both finished dressing, he offered her his arm to lead her to the performance. “I promise you,” he assured her, “everything will be fine.” Désirée took his arm silently, but he sensed her worry. He hoped she would believe his intentions.

  As they drew closer to their private box, his heart pounded ferociously at the thought of seeing Christine one more time. It had to be done. The night he abducted her had destroyed many lives, and he needed to apologize for his insane actions. If he wished to continue his life in peace, his conscience had to be clean of everything, including the matter of Comte de Chagny.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Christine entered the opera box alone with Raoul. Earlier in the day, the Governor came down ill with a dreadful case of stomach flu, and his wife stayed home to nurse him. Raoul did not seem to mind the change in plans. He preferred to attend the performance alone anyway, so they wouldn’t have to figure out how to dump their guests afterward.

  They settled into their seats, and Christine immediately displayed her disappointment over the arrangement of boxes. “You cannot see into Box 5 from here,” she exclaimed, straining her neck in that direction. Naturally, she assumed old habits remained.

  As she eyed the remainder of the auditorium, she smiled at the beautiful perfection. Her eyes glanced about the theater of gold and reds that were reminiscent of the Garnier.

  “He’s done an outstanding job, hasn’t he, Raoul?”

  Raoul grunted in return, and she glanced at her husband. His face stoic and unresponsive worried her a bit, and Christine hoped he would be able to handle the evening together.

  “Yes, very much like Paris, isn’t it? I’m not surprised,” he finally answered.

  Christine smiled. “Andrea wrote he did a magnificent job. It has his mark everywhere in the architecture and stonework.”

  “It does,” Raoul agreed, reaching over and grabbing his wife’s hand tightly.

  “Thank you, Raoul, for taking me here. If it weren’t for Andrea writing to let us know he was alive and doing well, I would have thought him dead.”

  “That’s all right, Christine,” he replied, tenderly. “I’d do anything for you.”

  “I know that you would, Raoul, and I know how hard this must be for you knowing you’ll see him again.” Christine tightened her grip upon his hand.

  “I intend to ask, you know.” Raoul creased his brow.

  “I know, darling.”

  She smiled warmly at her husband and settled in as the lights dimmed and the first act of Romeo and Juliet began. Christine wondered if Erik would seek her out. If he did not, she would find him after the performance. Christine had much to say to her Angel.

  Both were impressed with the production, and as the lights rose for intermission, she turned to look at Raoul. “Be a dear and get me a glass of champagne, only take your time in returning.”

  He smiled at her with a light chuckle escaping his lips. “I’ll give him two seconds after I’m out the box for him to enter in behind me. Make sure you time how long it takes, and let me know later if I was right.”

  He flashed a grin of approval and left Christine alone. She sat quietly anticipating Erik to arrive at any moment. No sooner had the air of the curtain calmed from Raoul’s departure, did it move again. Christine’s heart climbed in her throat, and she tightly clutched the program in her hand.

  “Hello, Christine.”

  His voice still sounded as smooth as velvet, with the same profound power to touch her soul. She swallowed the lump in her throat and turned her head. “Hello, Erik.” She patted the seat next to her. “I’ve been expecting you.”

  As she glanced at him, she breathed a sigh of relief. He looked well clothed in a black tuxedo. The same charismatic atmosphere filled the box in which he sat, but Christine knew in her heart that Erik had changed. Peace filled his eyes, and she sensed his joy. The aura of darkness that had once shadowed him had fled. She couldn’t help the tears that welled in her eyes, while she beheld the man she admired.

  “How is my Angel of Music?” she asked, smiling warmly. “Well, I hope.”

  “Yes, very well, Christine, and you?” He sat down next to her, sending a rush of fond emotion through her heart.

  “I’m very happy, Erik. Raoul is a devoted husband, and my career is doing exceptionally well.”

  Christine worried he would look remorseful, but he did not, and she found his actions encouraging.

  “I’m glad,” he admitted, reaching over and touching her hand. “I have read how well you are doing, and I’m very proud of your accomplishments in the theater.” He squeezed her hand and continued. “As it should be, I would think. Things have worked out for both of us in spite of my mistakes.”

  “You’ve done marvelous work here, Erik. You should be very proud.”

  “It was hell, I must admit, but it did my soul good to raise something from the ashes as penance for my foolishness in Paris.”

  Christine shook her
head. “There is no more penance to be had, Erik,” she told him. “You should know the authorities never filed any charges. You are a free man.”

  “What do you mean?” he asked, confused. “I don’t understand.”

  “Let’s just say that Raoul took care of the matter for me. I explained to the authorities after you fled that what happened between the three of us was nothing more than a lover’s spat. I refused to press any charges. Raoul paid for the restoration to the theater. It took some doing, but the past is erased. You need not look over your shoulder forever being afraid that you will pay for that night by years in prison or hanging.”

  Erik lowered his head in shame. “Oh, Christine,” he breathed remorsefully. “I wish life were so simple.” He paused before his painful confession. “But you are wrong. I have paid for my sins that night in more ways than one.”

  “What do you mean?” she asked, concerned.

  Christine listened as Erik told her about the woman named Désirée, astonished over the events that recently transpired. Her mouth gaped open as she heard it all: her mother’s plan, Désirée’s injuries, and the horrible night they had drugged him. When he finished his story, she felt appalled, but later gloriously happy there had been a happy ending to it all.

  “And you love her?”

  “Very much.”

  “Oh, Erik, I am so glad for you.”

  Christine squeezed his hand and a few minutes of reflective silence passed between them. Erik appeared to struggle for words.

  “I will always love you, Christine,” he confessed. “Your voice, your beauty, will forever stay in my heart.”

  He paused before continuing, his voice quivering from emotion.

  “But the beauty I have found in Désirée is far more precious to me. Because of her, I’ve learned to love, and her love has brought healing. We are two halves making the perfect whole.”

  “As it should be,” she responded happily. “As it should be!”

  “Can you ever forgive me for the dark times I put you though?” he asked, his voice breaking from emotion.

  “Of course, Erik.” She reached over and hugged her Angel of Music, glad that he had finally found what he had been searching for his entire life. As they gave each other an emotional embrace, Christine heard Raoul clear his throat. She saw him holding two glasses of champagne with a sour expression upon his face.

  “Raoul!”

  “Have you two made your peace?” he asked. “If so, I have—”

  “Questions,” Erik abruptly interrupted. He stood to his feet and walked toward Raoul. “You have questions about the night your brother died.”

  Raoul’s eyes narrowed. “I surmised on my own, sir, that my brother’s death came about because of his own irrational behavior—an accident perhaps or was it something else?”

  “It was an accident,” Erik said, lowering his head, recalling the dreadful details. “Your brother attempted to cross the lake in the lower cellars. Perhaps he foolishly thought he could wade across it, but there are deep sink holes that cannot be seen in the murky waters. No doubt his step felt secure until he fell into one. Without a boat to cross, the holes are capable of dragging a man down into a black, watery death.”

  Erik sighed and looked at Raoul square in the eye. “I found your brother’s body floating face down, Vicomte. I retrieved him from the waters and laid him upon the bank, fearful the authorities would pin his demise upon me. I assure you, as God is my witness, I did not set a hand upon him in any way for evil.” Erik looked at Christine and then back to Raoul. “It was an unfortunate accident that came about in his zeal to help you. I am sorry for the sorrow I have caused you both.”

  Raoul shifted his feet dealing with the knowledge of Philippe’s end. It had been a loss of life, which he deeply mourned.

  “He was a bull-headed man who fought change, but I never thought it would lead to his death.” He lifted his eyes and looked at Erik. “Thank you for telling me the truth of the matter,” he said, reaching out his hand toward Erik and offering him a gentleman’s handshake. “Apology accepted.”

  Erik grasped his hand in return, relieved he had made amends. “Vicomte, you better take good care of her,” he said to lighten the moment. He looked endearingly over at Christine.

  “I wouldn’t think of doing anything less,” Raoul answered. “I wish you the best as well.”

  Erik bid them both goodbye and left the box. He had accomplished what he came to do. Things had been set right.

  The lights dimmed, and the second half of Romeo and Juliet began.

  * * *

  Désirée fidgeted when Erik excused himself to see Christine. He asked her kindly to stay and wait, saying he would only be a minute. What did he need to say to her that he couldn’t say in her presence? She would have felt better had he taken the time to introduce them, but instead he left her to stew in a fit of jealousy until she couldn’t handle it any longer.

  Quickly, she stood to her feet, exited their box, and walked over a few yards to stand outside the curtain of the Governor’s box and eavesdrop. At first, their voices sounded muffled, and then with clarity, she caught Erik’s heartfelt words, spoken with a clear and certain voice.

  “I will always love you, Christine. Your voice, your beauty, will always stay in my heart.”

  Désirée felt the dagger of betrayal thrust into her chest. The omen her mother had given fulfilled in her ears. Erik still loved Christine! It wasn’t that he just loved Christine; he loved her beauty too. The words cut deep, and without thinking twice, she picked up the hem of her dress and flew down the hallway, passing by patrons and bumping into shoulders and walls. Burning tears streamed down her face.

  One of the attendants stopped her and asked if she needed assistance, and Désirée merely balked that she needed fresh air. He watched her retreat down the hall and out a doorway that led to the roof.

  With full force, she pushed open the door and climbed the stairs, sobbing the entire way until she reached the top out of breath and dizzy from running. Once outside, she fled to the edge of the rooftop and dropped to her knees. She tried desperately to quiet the voice of her mother, who kept repeating in her mind her ominous omen. “He will hurt you.”

  Why did he still love Christine? Had this all been a joke on his part? Had he just used her body for his enjoyment?

  She stood back up, staggered over to the edge of the building, and looked down to the street below. Her hands moved across her stomach as she thought of the life growing inside her. Erik had no idea he had fathered a child. Would it matter? He had just professed his undying love to Christine Daaé. He would never marry her now. Désirée wondered if he had returned to his obsession and would begin another relentless pursuit, blind to everyone and everything around him until he obtained what he always had wanted.

  The street below invited her to jump. A momentary madness griped her heart. She thought of her mother, who had been right all along. As she looked downward, she surmised it would be a quick painful fall once she hit the pavement. Her skull would crack, and the taunting emotional pain would end. The mocking voice of her mother would cease. She would fly to heaven or be dragged to hell with their baby in her arms. No longer would her heart beat or bleed for the man she loved. He had remained a monster. Her mother had been right all along.

  * * *

  Erik returned to Box 5, pulled open the curtain, and looked surprised to discover Désirée missing. He thought perhaps she had made her way to the powder room during intermission and decided to wait. While alone, he pondered his life, which finally radiated peace and happiness. All had worked out as it should. Christine would always be special in his memories, but he had found the woman that fate had set aside for him instead.

  The lights dimmed as intermission ended, and Erik stirred with an uneasy feeling in his gut. He had told Désirée to stay put, but she had not heeded his request nor returned. He whirled from his seat and headed down the hallway, passing a box attendant. “Have you seen
Mademoiselle Hessier?”

  “Yes, sir, she said she needed a breath of fresh air and exited at the end of the hallway toward the roof.”

  “The roof?” In a panic, Erik ran up the stairs and flung the door open into the night air. To his horror, he saw Désirée peering over the side of the building.

  “Désirée,” he called softly, not wishing to startle her in her dangerous stance. She turned around, and his heart leaped in his throat.

  “My God, Désirée, please get away from the edge, you’re frightening me.”

  Her face, wet with tears, returned a blank stare. “You lied,” she replied, with calm indifference. “You lied.”

  Erik shook his head. “Lied about what, Désirée? I haven’t lied to you.”

  “Oh, yes,” she continued, shaking her finger at him. “You said you wouldn’t hurt me, but you did. Mother said you would! She warned me and you did!”

  “How?” he begged, taking a few more steps closer to her. “How have I hurt you?”

  “Christine. I heard you, Erik, I heard you on the other side of the curtain say to her you would always love Christine and her beauty.” Her eyes grew wide with anger. “That’s it, isn’t it? You think I’m ugly, and you want her beauty!”

  “No, no,” Erik cried in his defense. “That’s not what I meant, Désirée.” He held out his hand toward her in desperation. “Please come here, and let’s talk this over.”

  “No! There’s nothing to talk about. I can’t live without you, Erik.” She balled her first and pounded her chest over her heart. “I can’t breathe or think of life without you. If you leave me, I’ll die. I’d rather throw myself to the street below than live through the pain of loss again.”

  “Oh, Désirée, you’re wrong,” Erik begged, his own eyes filling with tears as he drew a few feet closer. “I told Christine that I found love in you! The beauty I found in Désirée is far more precious to me. Because of you alone, I’ve learned to love, and your love has brought me healing.”