Can you believe we're at the end already? (Don't answer that...) I have so enjoyed sharing this with you all and getting to know you better! A special thank you to all who have reviewed so faithfully (you know who you are). Your encouragement and enthusiasm have meant so much to me.

And if it has to end, at least it ends on a long chapter, right?

Now, onward!

XLI

"Really?"

Erik shifted uncomfortably as he leaned against a cupboard, setting down his teacup, though still he did not look at her fully. "Only if you are amiable to the notion, of course. I just thought…"

Christine set down her plate beside her spot on the counter and hopped down, crossing to stand before her suddenly shy Erik. "What thought was that?"

He met her eyes then, so deep and encompassing that for a moment she forgot that he had spoken at all. "I thought you might like to begin our life here properly," he continued, the spell breaking somewhat even from his softly uttered words. "I know that it… troubled you that we were cohabitants before exchanging vows."

Christine blushed and her gaze flickered to the doorway and what lay beyond. If this really had been renovated as a hotel, there would be other rooms now. Rooms without morbid coffins and nightmares and pain; where she could very gently suggest that Erik take residence until they were married properly.

Except… she did not want him to leave her.

Despite the relatively short time she was aware of his presence beside her, she had grown quite fond of their arrangement. Boo made for a wonderful companion and no matter what Erik said, she would not evict him lightly. But that wasn't at all the same as having Erik there, and it seemed so very wrong to banish him now that they were finally in their new home.

At least, she hoped it would begin to feel like a home. At the moment it still felt as though they were trespassing—that at any moment someone would appear and shoo them from the premises. And she loathed the thought of trying to sleep in one of the big empty rooms all by herself. Her first night in a new country, a new residence, with no Erik to hold her close and comfort her if she should need it. She grimaced at the prospect.

Christine had evidently taken too long to answer for Erik sighed deeply and placed a kiss upon her cheek. "It is all right," he assured her, his tone betraying that it was anything but. "We may wed whenever you decide."

She grasped his wrist before he could escape her. "I think it would be perfect," she replied with utmost sincerity. "But I haven't a dress," she amended sheepishly. It didn't matter—truly it didn't. She would be marrying her Erik and that was what counted. She had never been one to imagine her wedding, to picture the host of witnesses that would crowd into a church to watch her exchange vows with the man she loved. And it was not as though she had her papa to walk with her…

"Ah," Erik responded, brightening considerably. "I believe the previous owners have left some options for you."

He tugged at her hand to usher her from the kitchen, and she could not help but find his enthusiasm endearing. But she halted him with a chuckle, going to Boo and scooping him up, his meal already gone from his bowl. "We can't leave him here," she told Erik firmly. "Let's get him situated in our room first and then he can start his explorations."

Erik's lips thinned his disapproval obvious, but Christine merely rolled her eyes and tucked herself closer to his side, ready to be led wherever he so chose. "Can't you at least appreciate that I called it our room?"

Erik sniffed but led them onward, and when she felt his lips brush against her temple, she knew he was not nearly as cross as he would have her believe.

"How do you know where to go?" she asked as they made yet another turn in the seemingly endless corridors.

Erik finally stopped before a finely carved door, smirking at her before he opened it. "You think I would purchase a home for us without first thoroughly examining the blueprints?"

Christine huffed and entered. She didn't know anything of the sort, nor did she think that diagrams were sufficient for getting a true understanding of a layout, but it was pointless to argue.

She had expected to be taken to one of the bedrooms, but instead it was a long hallway, paintings covering one of the walls while the other was filled with leaded windows, the sunny day disappearing behind a thick covering of clouds.

But what drew her attention most were the many dress forms, beautiful gowns of varying style following the length of the room. "What are these?" she asked, setting Boo down on the floor as he squirmed and protested their long walk.

"A common practice for old houses. People can better appreciate the history when it is spread out before them and not hidden away in a cupboard."

Christine nodded and drifted forward, little placards giving a description of each of the gowns and their believed origin. On the far wall was a glass cabinet, with corsets, gloves, and other accessories carefully preserved and exhibited.

"You don't think… I can't possibly wear one of these!"

Erik's head cocked to the side. "Why ever not? These are garments, and therefore meant to be worn."

She opened her mouth to retort, to firmly explain that these were now a piece of history—antiques!—but as she caught sight of a particularly lovely gown, layers of creamy silk and net mingling together to form a perfectly ethereal article, her desire to chastise melted away. Even before she read the description, it was obviously Victorian, the bustle perfectly constructed and the waist nipped becomingly.

He was offering, and was this truly so different than wearing a family heirloom? Except, she had no family, not anymore, no dress handed through the ages to clothe the newest bride on her wedding day.

Garments were made to be worn, not just admired.

And the way Erik was looking at her, his eyes burning with his desire to see her dressed as a proper bride… "You may have to help me with the buttons," she warned him, nervous yet so terribly excited at the prospect of what was to come.

"Nothing should please me more, except perhaps, helping you to undo them afterwards."

Her cheeks burned at his comment, far bolder than he typically allowed himself to be, but it was no less unwelcome. Not when her heart thumped a little more forcefully, her excitement overcoming her lingering anxiety.

Erik left her to see to their suitcases as Christine set about removing the dress from its form. It was remarkably well preserved, the small pearl buttons firmly fastened, though she was delicate in her movements.

Boo abandoned his prowling to watch her at work, and she dared not allow any of it to rest upon the floor lest he decide to use it as a nest.

She eyed the door for a moment, considering if it was safe to undress, then shook her head at her foolishness. He would be seeing quite enough of her later, and there was little point in feeling shy now.

Now that it was removed, she eyed the waistline dubiously. She was slight, despite Erik's attempts at overfeeding her, but this was most definitely made for a corseted foundation.

Quickly deciding not to think too much of it lest she convince herself it was all a mistake, she hurried to the glass exhibit and pulled out a few of the corsets, trying to gauge which would fit her best as she wrapped them about herself. She had always thought it required help to don and remove one, but there were hooks in the front and once she loosened it adequately, she found it rather simple to do herself, though the act of pulling it tight left her breathless as her lungs adjusted to their temporary cage.

Her bra and shirt had been abandoned in favor of this new support, and with her cheeks still reddened, she tucked it back into the cabinet, lest Erik walk in and see it dangling somewhere.

That accomplished, and more confident that the dress would fit as it should, she hurried back to the dress form and slid it over her head, the skirt securing with a hook while the bodice would require Erik's nimble fingers to see to the buttons.

But as her hands drifted down the front, the silk soft and tempered with age, she did not think she had ever felt more beautiful. The sleeves were small and left her shoulders and arms bare, and she could readily imagine a fine lady wearing it before her. She would wear pearls and jewels, and have the finest slippers on her feet, a maid having bound her hair into a comely style, leaving her throat bare and enticing.

She startled when the door opened and Erik appeared, his eyes wide and his mouth slightly slackened as he regarded her.

Christine fiddled with her skirts, suddenly feeling shy. "What do you think?"

"I think," he answered slowly, closing the door behind him before he came toward her. "You are perfection itself, my dear. And I do not deserve such a beauty."

She flushed, feeling remarkably pleased at his assessment, before turning her back to show him the many buttons that required his attention. "Help me please?"

She rather thought his breath quickened at that, but then his fingers were delving and working the tiny buttons into their loops, and as he went higher and there was no corset, no laces to keep his fingers from brushing against the bare skin of her back, she had to bite her lip to keep from whimpering.

And he had dared ask her if she found him repulsive.

"You look very fine yourself," she replied when she had once again mastered her breathing. He had changed into a new suit, black and crisp even after their travels, a black overcoat completing the ensemble that went nearly to his ankles.

Erik merely hummed disbelievingly at her assessment before securing the final button, her breath hitching when he leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the nape of her neck, christening it. "Finished."

She carefully schooled her features lest he see how his help had affected her, and she held out her hand welcomingly. "Then I would like to be married now."

Erik's eyes glittered in agreement and he took her hand in his.

-X-

They'd had to take Boo to their bedroom first, settling him in and making many promises that they would return as soon as his keepers were married properly—or perhaps Christine was only the one making such assurances as Erik loomed by the door, his expression one of amusement and impatience in equal measure.

The room was nothing like she'd ever imagined being hers—all luxurious carpets, a large four poster beckoning, draped in dark hues that lent a decidedly cozy atmosphere to the room. It was large, with a sitting area and heavy drapes that she was certain would block out the smallest ray of light when they were closed.

She grinned at that, knowing she would hear plenty from Erik if her penchant for sleeping late continued in their new home.

There did not seem to be any other doors leading to a bathroom, and eventually she had to ask Erik for one, wanting to at least check her hair to ensure it was decent before they departed.

With a smirk, he walked toward a large bookcase and touched a little notch upon its side, immediately revealing a fully functional bath beyond.

Christine's mouth dropped open in surprise.

"It was quite the eccentric hotel," Erik informed her with a touch of pride.

It was still dark inside, and Erik reached in and tugged what seemed to be a bell pull, only to have the room immediately illuminated. Christine did not think she'd ever seen anything quite so wonderful.

Her hair did not take long, choosing a simple tuck that would at least keep it tidy and after selecting more suitable pair of shoes from her suitcase, she gave Boo a kiss goodbye before hesitating, her eyes straying to her tin full of memories that Erik had carefully placed upon the bed.

Did she dare?

Rather haltingly she went towards it, opening the lid once more and picking up her papa's wedding band. She had nothing else to offer Erik, no other symbol to give him, but would he appreciate her offering? She peeked up at him, still considering. It felt wrong to ask him for money to buy his own ring, and she doubted she could afford anything that would suit him with her own meager savings—not that she had access to such things any longer.

Erik was watching her cautiously, his expression inscrutable.

"It was my papa's," she explained quietly, her fingers drifting over the gold once more. "Would… would you like to wear it?" Christine felt silly asking it of him. He could afford anything in the world—perhaps did not even care for the idea of wearing a ring at all, and yet…

She could not ignore his sharp intake of breath, his gentle nod of acquiescence. "I would be most honored, Christine, but only if you are certain."

She glanced downward before slipping it onto her thumb, nodding firmly. "I can think of no better use for it. And maybe… maybe this way we'll have his blessing."

Erik grimaced at that, but he did not correct her—did not try to convince her that no father would have agreed to their union after their strange beginning.

And she was glad of it.

For as he ushered her from the room, she wanted nothing more than to simply enjoy this day.

They had come to the little village chapel in the same vehicle they'd been dropped off in, stashed as it was in a carriage house should they have further need of it. Christine hoped their driver lived nearby lest he have a very long walk ahead of him.

It had been a very strange thing to sit where there normally would be a steering wheel, and she was worried that Erik would find the change confusing. But as with most things, he seemed to adjust with grace. "Have you been here before?" she finally asked him when it seemed he knew where he was going without any assistance from a GPS or a map.

"I have," he told her after a moment's consideration. "A pleasant spot, this. And as far as people are concerned, they are not too terrible."

Christine very nearly rolled her eyes at his generous assessment, but she did not want to dissuade him from revealing more about his past experiences. "But you didn't stay?"

Erik frowned, and belatedly she wondered if she should have suggested they marry without him wearing this particular mask. It allowed him the silhouette for a nose, and perhaps looked more a prosthetic than a harsher covering, but would the marriage be as valid if she did not speak the vows to his true face?

"No, I did not stay. Always wandering, always searching. Until I had quite given up hope."

Christine swallowed thickly, her heart aching to hear the despondency in his tone as he remembered his travels. "Hope of what?"

He pulled up to the little stone church then, a cemetery to its side well kempt but ancient, the gravestones crumbling in places and the interred likely long since forgotten by the living.

"Finding someone who would want me to stay."

Tears came unbidden to her eyes and she was glad that he had parked for she was able to unbuckle her seatbelt and kiss his covered cheek, feeling all the more sure that what they were about to do was right. "I want you to stay with me always, Erik. It doesn't matter where we live, just as long as you're there."

He smiled at her softly, his own eyes glistening but he did not allow himself to cry. "And your little fellow."

Christine laughed and nodded. "And Boo too. But," she continued, lowering her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "I may just love you a little more. Maybe."

Erik sat a bit straighter at that, practically preening at her declaration.

Men.

As if there could be any doubt?

"Shall we go in?"

Christine nodded and allowed him to help her out, and she shivered slightly at the cold breeze, though she shook her head at Erik's concerned glance. "Let's go."

For a moment she worried they needed an appointment—though with Erik she supposed it was entirely possible that he had already made one for them. The longer they were here, it was becoming more apparent that he had been planning their relocation for longer than the few days she had known about. Had he begun the search for a new home as soon as he had seen her doodle? Or perhaps even before that? There were also most obviously people in his employ having made special purchases, such as the cat food for Boo, as well as their necessities for basic foods. They had even gone so far as to have placed a litter box within their bedroom, though if Christine was correct, she highly doubted that Erik would allow it to remain in such an open area for long.

Like modern conveniences, he imposed the need for privacy upon the most basic of things.

She felt a little like an intruder as they made their way into the chapel, stained glass windows lining the exterior, and Christine was sure that on a sunny day they would have shined with their brilliance. But the day had turned grey so instead they offered a pleasant reprieve from the stone of the walls.

"Oh! You gave me a fright!"

They both turned and saw a young woman scrubbing the floor, peering up at them from beneath the pews, a soapy hand clutching at her chest.

"Sorry," Christine offered, taking a step forward. "We were hoping to get married here?"

The girl's brow furrowed and she glanced briefly at Erik, before she smoothed her expression into a smile. "Elopin'? Sounds grand."

She rose from her spot on the floor. "You got another witness hidden away somewhere?"

Christine blushed and shook her head, feeling foolish that she hadn't thought of such things. "No, we don't really know anyone here yet."

The girl nodded and though she glanced warily to Erik once more, she came forward, brushing her hand quickly on her jeans before extending it to Christine. "Then let me be the first. I'm Megan." Her hand was firm and her smile warm, and as Christine introduced herself, some part of her she hadn't realized existed began to settle.

Erik was great company and she loved him dearly, but he was not the same as female companionship. And she would dearly like to have a friend here.

"I had a friend once with that name, back home."

Megan smiled. "Then her ma had good taste. Speakin' of though…" Her eyes flicked to the doorways beyond. "I'd better fetch mine and the minister or else you'll never be gettin' married."

Christine smiled and nestled closer to Erik as her new friend departed, and she was glad he wasn't cross as his hand came to rest upon her waist. "You don't mind if I have friends here, do you?"

He clutched her a bit closer, his voice soft. "As long as you do not forget your poor Erik."

She turned as best she could given his hold, her tone firm as she looked up at him. "Never."

The doors opened then and a woman bustled in with Megan in tow, an older gentlemen appearing behind them both.

And then it was time.

Erik spoke with the minister and produced a license from one of his pockets. The man seemed a bit surprised at their sudden entreaty, and Christine had the distinct impression that this particular village was steeped in tradition—that if a couple asked to be wed, this chapel would be filled, the well-wishers abundant.

But that wasn't what they wanted—not when they were still strangers here. And it was enough for Erik to have ventured from their new home at all, let alone parade him in front of a church full of people.

Eventually, with a bit more coaxing, the minister agreed, taking the license in hand and bidding them follow him toward the altar.

It should have troubled her that her papa was not there to walk with her.

It should have bothered her that the minister had to look down at their names upon the license in order to remember them.

But as Erik took her hands in his and promised his love and devotion, no matter what was to come, she could regret nothing of their courtship, of what had brought them here. And so with much surety she promised him the same.

She had not realized he had slipped her ring from her ringer until suddenly he was restoring it, his eyes burning with his pledge, with his vow, and it brought tears to her eyes when at last it settled once more upon her finger.

I thee wed.

She had to take a moment to compose herself before she could do the same, her voice wavering slightly though she hoped her eyes related her sincerity.

The minister blessed them both, and permitted them a kiss, and though she had expected Erik to refuse, to keep such affections to the privacy of their own home, his lips were suddenly upon hers, insistent and needful, even though the kiss itself was but a moment.

It left her feeling breathless all the same.

He held her hand as they signed the certificate that made it all official—a real, true marriage that none could dispute, that none could claim had come from a hurried sham to circumvent the law. She had married him because she loved him and no other reason, and as Megan and her mother signed as witnesses and finally the minister, she could not stop her giggle as Erik tucked away the precious document once again.

They were married.

Erik was striding back towards the outer doors, and belatedly she turned to thank everyone, and perhaps apologize to Megan for their haste, but her knowing smile and sparkling eyes made such a thing unnecessary. "Come again soon! I'd like to know you better."

Before she could answer, Erik had her through the doors and was ushering her to the car, and she gladly entered it so she did not have to feel the biting breeze nipping at her bared shoulders.

The drive was a quiet one, Erik content merely to hold her hand, the speed in which he drove not at all relating to his enthusiasm at having her to himself again.

He returned the car to the carriage house and helped her from the vehicle, her skirts and bustle cumbersome as she moved, and she would be grateful to abandon it all for one of her soft nighties. Except… except Erik would be helping her out of said garments, and it might be a while yet before she could don one of her favorite nightgowns.

She blushed at the thought, her heart quickening and as he took her hand to escort her back to the house, the castle, their home, she did not try to quell her desire.

It would likely not be perfect. Between Erik's past and her own inexperience, it might take them a time or two before things settled.

But as she slowed her pace, savoring the moment of returning home for the first time as man and wife, she looked forward to it all the same. Because it was between her and Erik, just them at their most vulnerable, and she trusted him. Together they would make it something beautiful—because it meant something to the both of them—and perhaps that's what mattered most in any case.

Erik cast an anxious glance at the castle when he saw her shiver, but instead of hurrying her along he simply removed his long coat and helped her into it. "You look so beautiful, Christine," he told her reverently, and she rested her head against his arm as they walked over the bridge, the moat on either side of them.

"We're married," was her simple reply, still an incredible, wonderful thought that brought tears to her eyes.

She had been so lonely without him. But she had become so used to that unhappiness that she'd grown numb, forgotten what it was to be loved and to love. But he'd reminded her. He'd coaxed her affections with his sweetness and his care, from shy smiles across a courtroom floor to his deference when he'd deemed her judge over his own mock trial. He valued her, treasured her, and she would do the same in turn.

Maybe someday they would hear word of what happened in the other trials—if Ms. Poligny and Mr. Debienne were found guilty of their crimes. But they held no power over Erik now, their claims and accusations could not find him. He was safe. They were safe. And home.

He held her a little closer at her declaration, his lips brushing her temple, as he whispered, "My wife," in return, and she knew when they returned to their bedroom she would ask him to remove his mask, the edges tickling at her skin even as he kissed her.

She would have no barriers between them, no pretences. Just Erik and Christine.

As it should always be.

Their family would likely grow, with children and more kittens to come. Perhaps even now there were some on the grounds waiting for a new home and a desire to be Boo's playmate.

But at the center of it all would be their marriage, their union that they fought and compromised for, even through misunderstanding and rashness, through hurt and pain. It would not always be simple, of that she had no doubt. Nothing for them ever had been. There was still so much of him she did not know or understand. But he was hers and she would love him as best she could.

And perhaps that would be sufficient.

She would sing for him when they went to their room—something soft and romantic. A christening of their new marriage just as their consummation would accomplish soon afterward. A part of her was glad for their previous interruptions, as this allowed for something more meaningful, more poignant as she gave not only her body, but her voice as well.

To her husband.

As they reached the large doors, Erik lifted her into his arms, carrying her across the entrance, his eyes alight with amusement and his lips quirked into a smile.

And her heart ached with how much she loved him.

"To our quarters, my lady?"

Christine had no doubt that Erik would eventually make little changes to the castle about them. She'd yet to see a music room, but she could easily see him converting one of the rooms chambers to fit his purpose. Perhaps another pipe organ, or maybe a piano, where they could sing and create together.

Where he could play the violin while she remembered her past and looked forward to her future.

She'd show him her little tin of memories, of the photos that captured such sweet happenings, and share more of herself with him, while equally promising him that soon he would have his own remembrances to treasure. Memories with her.

Christine stifled another giggle and swept her hand imperiously, too delighted at his game to even consider protesting as he continued to carry her.

"Onward, my lord."

And as his eyes burned and some part of her quivered in response, she was very well aware of what precisely was to come, and she knew it would be no great duty at all.

Not with her Erik.

Not with her love.

And that was quite enough for her.

Sooo... They're married! And I think we all know what happens next for our love birds... What did you think of the wedding? Christine's dress? Her hopes for their future?

To preemptively answer a few enquiries, there is no epilogue planned, nor a sequel. I intentionally wanted to leave this one rather open ended and available for you to insert your own imaginings for their future together. (Though if you ask me, there's most certainly a little girl kitty wandering about the grounds waiting to be Boo's friend. And since never once has Erik or Christine mentioned contraceptives, methinks a wee babe would soon be in the works as well.)

Thank you so much for reading, reviewing, favouriting, and encouraging. You're all so wonderful to write for! And don't worry, this will not be the last time you hear from me. I'm already itching for another Erik and Christine story... this time back in period dress I think.

And one last favour to me if you could be so kind... if you purchased Civic Duty through Amazon, please consider leaving a review!

Anyway, until next time!