In My Darkness: La Chatte Noire

Chapter Eight: A Slight Misconception

Chapter Eight: A Slight Misconception

Erik watched Madame Giry leave with curious eyes. She hadn't said a word, yet that in itself had said much. Obviously, this was not good news. He wondered what could be worse than what was happening now. Camillé was not returning; the two of them were not on speaking terms; and La Carlotta was singing so loudly it echoed into the cavern, making him want cut his ears off. Today was not the best of days. With a heavy sigh, he sat down on his organ bench, opening the letter she had handed him.

'Madame Giry, if you have opened this, please give it to its intended recipient.

Salut (Hello), Erik.

There are no words I can say to express how sorry I am that I cannot say this in person. Yet I fear that if I were to return to the cavern on the lake, I would stay and never wish to leave. Yes, I am leaving. Someone from Angleterre came back for me and I am going to London with them. At least... that is what he keeps telling me. He wants to marry me, Erik. I thought I wanted to marry him at one point, but now I do not know. I do not think that I do, anymore. What is there to be done though? He has asked me to return with him, and he had claimed his everlasting love for me, and he wants to marry me when we return to Angleterre. Erik... I do not wish to marry him. I do not know why, nor do I know when this happened, but my love for him is gone and I would not want to marry this man for all the riches in the world. Yet there is nothing to be done. I am to return with him and I am to marry him.

I cannot stand that the last words I said to you were said in disdain. I am sorry, Erik. So sorry. I cannot understand why you felt the need to send me away, but I should not have responded the way I did. Running away from one's problems does nothing to solve them. If anything, it appears to have made them worse. So here I send you my sincere apology and all my hope that you forgive me. I have already forgiven you.

Erik... tu me manques.

Ta chatte toujours (Your cat always),

Camillé

P.S.: It is the one he gave to me. I cannot bear to wear it. Please, do keep it safe for me. It is far too pretty.'

Erik gaped at the letter he was holding. Then he looked at the attached bauble. Truly, it was beautiful. A deep red ruby placed between two sets of diamonds, all held in a silver band. He smiled in a melancholy way as he was reminded of her coming home and complaining that nothing the Prima Donna had was silver, for she liked silver far better than gold. This mysterious Anglais (Englishman)certainly knew what she would have loved had she loved him. But apparently she did not. Suddenly, looking at the ring, he was filled with an inexplicable rage. How dare that Anglais steal his cat from him! She did not even love the man! Yet he was dragging her away to a place she did not consider home.

He made his decision then and grabbed his cloak, fully prepared to march out there and bring her home. In a moment though, he froze, realizing that he had no idea where she was. It would be improbable to search the city for her; by the time he had searched everywhere, she would be long gone and likely married. The thought of that did nothing to help his anger, in truth, it fueled it. Then he noticed a piece of paper over by the entrance to his lair that Madame Giry had taken and knelt down to pick it up, temporarily distracted.

'I cannot do this anymore. Help me, Erik. I care for him too much to leave, but cannot possibly marry him. Come for me, help me. We are in a back room on the second floor of the le Lame Verre. Come soon, mon ami (my friend).'

Erik smiled in an almost gentle way. She was the only woman he knew that would have enough mind to tell him where she was. And he was coming for her.