Chapter 22: Fire Discovered

Someday,
after mastering winds, waves, tides and gravity,
we shall harness the energy of love;
and for the second time in the history of the world,
man will have discovered fire.

Quote by Pierre Teilhard De Chardin, French Philosopher (1881-1955)

A gentle knock on her door startled Antoinette Giry from her nervous reverie and she immediately stopped her pacing. She stared accusingly at the door as if it were the lumber's fault a sound issued from it and not the fault of the person rapping upon it. Her shoulders sagged for a moment and she gave a weary sigh, before she regained her composure and drew herself up into her normally imposing posture.

Clearing her throat, she called. "I am coming! One moment, please!"

She turned to check her appearance in the mirror next to the door and was pleased to find she did not appear at all disheveled. She tucked a few wisps behind her ears and patted her hair. She then smoothed her skirts before turning to the door. She settled her features into their usual emotionless mask and opened the door.

Seeing Erik Destler at her front door after ten o'clock in the evening surprised her so much that she felt almost proud of her self-control. She did not even arch an eyebrow or cock her head to indicate her curiosity. She simply stood before the doorway and stared at the man. Inwardly, she felt as if her jaw dropped to the floor. Gone were the stilted, formally dressed dandy of the night before and the hesitant, awkward gentleman of earlier this afternoon; in their place stood a man, confident, rugged, sensual. The man wore a dark brown cloak with the hood thrown back over his shoulders hanging down his back. Beneath the cloak, she spied a ruffled white poet's shirt that hung open to his waist and exposed his firmly muscled chest. His chest was bronzed, smooth and hairless. His trousers were a lighter shade of brown than the cloak and tailored to accentuate his narrow waist and hips. Antoinette's control slipped and she found herself in such a state of shock that she lost focus for a moment and blinked. This new Erik smirked as he took note of her response. She retaliated by folding her arms across her chest and narrowing her eyes. The man lazily arched his one eyebrow while he continued his sardonic smirk.

"Good Lord! Are all my worries to confront and confound me? What in heaven's name has set him on this path? I worried over this man's repressed emotions and I wondered what would happen when he released them. Heaven help us! I do believe Monsieur Destler is sans masque this night!"

She escalated their silent competition by tapping her foot. His smirk slid into a long, slow, lazy grin. He dipped his head forward as way of greeting the woman.

"Madame, I know it is late and I humbly apologize for arriving on your doorstep at this hour unexpected, but could you find it in your heart to allow me to call briefly upon my fiancée?"

He flashed an irresistible smile, folded his arms across his broad chest and leaned against the doorjamb.

Antoinette felt a rush of warmth run through her body. The man simply exuded an air of sensuality, but she knew he held no interest in her. She could feel the heat radiating from his body and see the smoldering fire lit within his eyes.

"Madame?"

"Monsieur, may I have your word that you will comport yourself in the manner befitting a gentleman and treat Christine with the respect she deserves?"

The woman's words cooled Erik's overheated mind somewhat and his grin lessened. Riding Caesar never failed to exhilarate him, but witnessing Caesar's excitement and subsequent attempt at mounting a mare in the stable along with his own earlier self-indulgence had driven the man into an almost frenzied state of arousal. Every nerve ending of his body screamed for Christine's touch. He hung suspended between his need to take her and his need to do the proper thing. His body moved with the grace of a panther, hiding the turmoil of his mind behind the fluid movements of a predator, as he slid from the doorjamb and entered the room.

"Well, Monsieur?"

"Of course, Madame; you have my word as a gentleman, as the man who loves Christine above all others and desires more than words can say for her to be his wife." He almost growled at the woman, but restrained himself at the last moment thinking that reaction would not be helpful in his quest to see Christine.

"Very well; wait here. I shall fetch her for you."

The woman turned and made her way down the short hall. She knocked on Christine's bedroom door, waited a moment and then knocked again. After another short delay, Erik heard her call to Christine and then the woman opened the door. The sound of the woman's soft cry of alarm had Erik down the hall and at her side before she could even turn to call for him. She gasped as she backed into the man's broad chest, all of her previous control gone. Antoinette turned to Erik.

"She is not here, Monsieur! She is gone!" She exclaimed.

Antoinette watched as the confident façade fell away from the man and the repressed gentleman returned. Erik looked around the quiet, neat and obviously empty room.

"Well, at least it is obvious to me. I can feel her whenever she is near." He thought.

"When did she go out, Madame?"

"No, you do not understand me, Monsieur. I did not see her go out, nor did she tell me of her intention to leave. I believed she had gone to bed, but it appears the opera ghost needed to prowl tonight."

"How can you be certain of this?" He inquired.

"I am not sure, but let me check something." The woman walked to the wardrobe, opened the cabinet doors and rummaged through Christine's clothes. After a moment, she turned and continued. "Her breeches, boots and cloak are gone. She only wears those things when she's skulking about the opera house."

The man's stunned expression would have been ludicrous except for the fact that Antoinette knew he loved the girl and felt concern for her safety. She attempted to calm his now frazzled nerves.