Page 101 of Our Strange Duet

His deranged plan had backfired. Seeing the full force of his cruelty killed any trace of feelings I might have ever had for him. It burned away my reverence, my wonder. It ruined the awestruck exultation I felt for his music, his voice. It erased my pity.

Now, nothing remained but ash.

“Raoul, you need to get up. Raoul, we need to go.” I tugged at his arm, careful to grab the one Erik had not struck.

He shook his head. “Save yourself.”

“I’m not leaving without you,” I protested, gritting my teeth as I pulled him to his feet.

Erik had rounded away from us and now watched with guarded eyes. I could see him assessing, playing out scenarios in his mind, turning them over and over like a puzzle box, as he tried to make the situation play out in his favor.

I took advantage of his hesitation and all but dragged Raoul back to the stallion.

He insisted on helping me up first, before following after with a worrying groan. He wasn’t bleeding, not where I could see, but I wondered if Erik might have broken his ribs or shattered bones along his arm.

I took up the reins and, with a kick of my heels, spurred the horse to action.

“Don’t go!” Erik cried, a feral howl that played off the fog and made him sound as if he were so much larger, surrounding us with a force and fury impossible to best. “Christine!”

The stallion was quick to respond, but as we galloped away, I heard one last roar from Erik.

“So be it!” he shouted, hurling his voice to the sky. “Now let it be war upon you both!”

Chapter 34

The ticking of the grandfather clock was about to drive me mad.

I’d passed it by a hundred times, pacing up and down the hall outside Raoul’s bedchambers. It took me exactly thirty-seven seconds to complete each loop. Thirty-seven seconds to go from the staircase to the far window seat and back again.

I could see my worry marked in the plush piling of the blue carpet runner and knew I’d probably made an enemy of Raoul’s housekeeper.

They’d been in there for hours. Raoul, his valet, and the doctor who’d been called in.

The second the older man had arrived, he’d ordered Raoul upstairs for a thorough examination and shut the door in my face, leaving me alone in the hallway. At first, indignation and rage had fueled my pacing, but the constant footsteps had long since dulled both into mindless routine.

Thirty-three, thirty-four, thirty-five—

I stopped short as the door behind me clicked open and the physician, Dr. Auberjonois, crept out into the hall, squinting for me.

“How is he?” I asked, racing toward the older gentleman.

“He’s going to be just fine. He needed a few stitches and is using a cooling poultice for the burns. He’ll certainly be sore for a few days, but there doesn’t appear to be any internal damage and no broken bones.”

A sigh of relief escaped me. “Oh, thank goodness! Thank…thank you! Can I see him now?” I tried to peek over his shoulder, but the room was too dark to immediately spot Raoul.

With a shake of his gray head, Dr. Auberjonois closed the door behind him. “I’m afraid not. I’ve prescribed a strong course of tonics to ensure that he gets all the rest he needs, and I have instructed his valet on the proper dosage. Monsieur le Vicomte is already asleep.”

“Oh.” I frowned, feeling thwarted. “I…I so hoped to be able to see him—just to make sure he’s all right.”

“He is. I assure you.” The physician took my elbow and gently led me down the hall. We passed by my ticking nemesis, but before we descended the stairs, he stopped. “He said there’d been an altercation of some kind?”

I nodded, unsure of exactly what story Raoul would have told or what details he’d want me to give.

“It must have been a terrifying ordeal,” Dr. Auberjonois mused, curiosity shining in his gaze. “Strange to see burns such as his from a fistfight.”

“I’m just so relieved he made it through relatively unscathed,” I said as evenly as I could.

The doctor reached into his black valise and pulled out a little amber bottle. He pressed it into my hand. “Two drops of this in a cup of tea before bed,” he instructed, “and you’ll sleep.” He patted at his coat pockets before gesturing to the stairs. “I’m told Madame Henry has ordered you a carriage back to your apartment.”