Tapestry of Deceit: Chapter Nine

[betweensunandmoon]

I must be nuts. Fortunately, I’ve got a character from an unfinished short story and another whose personality I’m trying to hammer out to do all the hard work for me.

Thomas: Where am I, and what is that?

Giovanna: This is a sporking chamber, and that is a bad fanfiction. Who are you?

Giovanna, this is Thomas. Thomas, this is Giovanna. She’s taken, so don’t get any funny ideas.

Thomas: *looks innocent* Would I ever?

Never mind that. How much do you know about Phantom of the Opera?

Thomas: Cindy made me watch the movie with her once.

Good enough. Make yourselves comfortable, because this is going to be a long one.

Thomas: Okay… *turns to Giovanna* It’s nice to meet you.

Giovanna: *curtsies* It is a pleasure to meet you, too. Let us begin.

*they take seats on the sofa*

Summery, as opposed to wintry: In the midst of a raging storm, Christine makes a surprising discovery about the Black Knight, as well as concocts a plan to gain his children's trust...

Tapestry of Deceit

Discovery and Scheming

A storm arose later that night; fitting, Christine thought, since it matched her mood. It was by no means as fierce as the storm that had arisen the night before, but it seemed to herald some sort of impending doom.
Thomas: OW!
Giovanna: That hurt!
Thomas: *rubbing his head and glaring at the fic* Two sentences in, and the author is already beating us over the head with symbolism. Is the entire chapter going to be like this?
Giovanna: *wincing* I hope not.

Christine rolled over onto her side, trying to shut out the sounds of the storm, as well as escape the events of the day that kept plaguing her mind over and over. She had only spent one day at Winterbourne, and already she found herself longing for her former life. Her former life of abuse, drudgery, and harassment, all because of a few naughty children. Whatever happened to Christine’s backbone? She couldn't stand Carlotta, and she hated Philippe, Who’s Philippe? Raoul’s older brother. What’s he like? A good man, unlike in this story. Ah. but at least at the de Coleville's The de Coleville’s what? she had friends. Anne was a sweet woman, and the other servants seemed nice as well, but they all looked at her, expecting her to be commanding as their new mistress, and Christine didn't know the first thing about running a household, especially one as large as this castle! And those children…oh what demons they could be! She had truly thought that perhaps she was beginning to win them over that morning, but in one simple insult by Jacob, the little progress she had made, tumbled down all around her, along with the commas.

After returning to her room that afternoon, she checked the bed carefully, making sure there was nothing creeping or crawling or slithering within the sheets, Don’t worry, Christine. You’re the main character in a bad romance fic. Nothing would dare slither between your sheets unless it belonged to Sir Erik. and after Sir Erik had brought her back to the room that evening, she barricaded the door to keep the little brats out. They had voyeuristic tendencies, and Christine wasn’t comfortable with being watched. Carlotta had been a horrid child, except in bed, but she wasn't half as bad as these! Had Sir Erik never bothered to discipline them? He probably was never around to do the work; always believing some servant would take care of it for him. If the fic is sporking itself, can we leave? No. And what of their mothers? She knew that Charles and Helena had different mothers, and that apparently their mothers were never Sir Erik's wives, but what had happened to them? I bet he keeps their corpses in a locked room upstairs. And were there any other unknown women? What about Jacob and the twins? Did they also have different mothers? Did Sir Erik ever marry anyone before her? She had so many questions, but feared no one would ever give her the answers. Why not? Even if you don’t want to ask your husband, there’s no shame in asking Anne or another of the servants. The worst thing they can do is tell you they’re under orders not to speak of their master’s past.

She was miserable, there at Winterbourne, and her thoughts wandered back to the night when she left the de Coleville's, The de Coleville’s what? Brothel? …That works. and when Robert had told her that should she ever need a place to retreat…she was welcome with him and Meg. Planning a threesome, are we?

That offer seemed so tempting right now…

Christine's thoughts were interrupted by the soft, distant sound of…wailing moaning? A shiver went through Christine as she remembered some of the ghost stories Robert had told her when she first came to work for the de Coleville's. Oh, so this is an equal-opportunity whorehouse? It was easy to believe in ghosts in such a place as this…

The wail seemed to grow louder, but there also seemed to be something familiar about it. Not being able to lie there and listen to the sorrowful sound, Christine lit a candle by her bed, and slowly pulled on some fur slippers that Anne had given her, before wrapping a shawl around her shift. I notice the author neglected to mention whether or not she was wearing the shift at the time. Great, now I’m going to spend the rest of this chapter trying to picture Emmy Rossum naked. Happy to be of service! She moved the barricade away from her door, and slowly stepped out into the hallway, carefully going down the tower steps. Her ears perked as the wail slowly began to turn into sobs.

Was it possibly one of the children?

Despite the wicked tricks they had played on her, Christine could not sit by when a child cried. She held the candle out in front of her and followed the sounds down several twisting halls, listening as the sobs grew louder and louder.

Then, when she reached a hallway where the sound seemed to be strongest, she heard it softly become muffled! What? Alarmed, Christine hurried towards the door where she saw the faint glow of a candle, but stopped just outside the door, as the sound of a man humming reached her ears.

Christine peeked around the door of the room where the humming and a child's soft sniffling was coming from, and the sight she saw made her heart swell with emotion.

The fearsome Black Knight, the great terror of battle, What? sat on a small stool, humming to the weeping twins, who lay curled up in his arms, their sobs dying down, more and more, as they listened to their father.
Thomas: *rubs eyes* Am I actually reading this? Is Erik, the stalker who lives in a basement and kills people, really singing lullabies to his children? Why does he even have children?
Giovanna: It’s not at all like him, is it? I’m wondering why Lady Rosesong didn’t just write original fiction if she can’t bother to keep anyone in character.

Christine had never seen anything more beautiful…or surprising. No doubt the children had been frightened by the storm, but Sir Erik had heard them crying before anyone else, and despite his reputation as a ferocious soldier stalker and murderer, he held them and cuddled them closer to his massive chest, He’s a gorilla. until the last of their sobs disappeared, and their tiny eyes closed as they drifted back to sleep.

She watched as he gently laid them both back in the small bed they shared, tucking the blankets up all around them, before leaning down and gently kissing their sleeping foreheads. Christine quickly ducked behind a stone pillar as he picked up his candle, and quietly exited the room.

Amazing, she thought. The Black Knight does have a heart after all…

However, her pleasant thoughts towards the man who had married her vanished, when she suddenly felt a hand come up from behind her and cover her mouth.

"A little late for an evening stroll, don't you think, madam wife?"

Christine gasped and turned around, blushing as she realized just how close she was standing before Sir Erik. What…you know, I don’t care. Let’s just count the weird phrases. Three! How had he managed to sneak up behind her? She swore he had just passed her by! How did he know she was there?

"I heard your feet, padding along the stones," Erik explained, seeing the question in her eyes. "Not to mention I could smell you."

Christine's cheeks went red, and she only prayed that the darkness of the hallway concealed her blush. Damn that manure!

"Perhaps you could answer my question?" Erik asked, cocking his visible brow at her, lifting the candle so he could get a good look at her face.

Christine closed her gaping mouth She’s a fish. and lifted her chin, trying to look braver than she felt when being this close to him. She just admitted that he frightens her. How are we supposed to find this romantic? "Like you, I too heard Sarah and Sabrina's cries, and came to investigate."

"Ah," Erik murmured, his eyes surveying her body beneath the candlelight. She had dropped her shawl when he snuck up on her, and the candlelight revealed a very sensuous outline of her body beneath her pale shift, especially that of her hardened nipples that seemed to be poking through the fabric. Does she have needles for nipples?

Christine felt his eyes burning through her shift, and quickly folded her arms to cover herself. She was still mad at him How medieval. *rolls eyes* and refused to show that he had any affect effect on her, whatsoever.

"Well…perhaps motherhood suits you after all," he whispered, a smirk creasing his lips at the foul look Christine gave him.

"Perhaps your fatherly skills can be used with the children when they're awake as well!" she shot back, turning on her heel then to leave him standing there. They were awake, dimwit.

But Erik was too quick for her, and grasped her arm, forcing her to turn and face him. "I am sorry for what my children did to you, but do not blame me for their bad behavior!" he hissed.

Christine shook his hand off her arm and glared right back at him. "How can you say that? Who should I blame then? Their mothers? I don't see any of them here!"

Christine could tell she struck a nerve, for Erik sucked in a deep breath, and she watched as his hand tightened into a fist, and for a brief moment, she feared she had perhaps gone too far, and would feel the blow of his fist across her face. I feel ill. So do I.

But Erik, despite his menacing reputation, was not a man that believed in hitting women. The sign of a man's pathetic character was when he attacked those that were physically weaker than himself. Like his canon self did? Erik had been called a monster, but he would never allow that word to control his actions when it came to women. Four! He simply straightened himself, causing him to look even larger than he already was, and bowed his head just slightly, before turning to leave.

"Wait!"

Erik sighed and slowly looked over his shoulder. "You have more insults to throw?" Five!

Christine bit her lip. She was not ready to forgive her husband, but she had no right to judge his past. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "Today has been…well, rather hellish, and…I…it's just…seeing you just then, with those girls, I…I never would have–"

"Nor would anyone else," Erik murmured, It’s sporking itself again. looking past Christine into the room where his twin daughters slept. "Come," he sighed, taking Christine's hand in his. "I'll show you back to your room; no doubt you've already lost yourself in this place, it's quite easy to do, especially at night…"

Christine blushed as she felt Sir Erik's large warm fingers wrap around hers, and she obediently followed him as he led the way back to her tower. He had been right, she observed; she would never have found her way back without his help.

"Anne told me that there had been no sign of the children since this afternoon," Christine murmured as they wound their way through the long twisting hallways and corridors of the castle. "She said that no one had seen them since…well…" she chose not to say anything further, after all, both she and Sir Erik knew what she was talking about.

"I did not know myself, until I heard Sarah and Sabrina crying," Erik replied. "I found both Charles and Helena fast asleep in their beds, still dressed from earlier…and each caked with a thick layer of mud," he muttered.

"What about Jacob?" Yes the boy was a bully, but still, he was only a child, and no child deserved to be lost in a storm.

"If Jacob knows what's best for him, he'll stay away," Erik growled, his grip on Christine's hand tightening slightly. Why are we supposed to sympathize with a man who neglects his children?

Christine looked slightly alarmed by her husband's feral growl. She remembered how the child had announced to the whole castle that he would never respect her, just as he never respected his father. How great was the division between father and son? Did the Black Knight beat his son? If he did, I doubt Jacob would go around covering people in manure.

"Do not look so shocked," Erik grumbled, noticing Christine's concern. Amazing; even after the way the brat had treated her, her good nature still shined through. "It's not the first time he's stayed out past his bedtime…and not the first time he's gone missing. But he always returns when he's ready…and when I'm not paying attention."

Christine bit her lip as she took in all of her husband's words. While he may not see it as a problem, Christine surely did. Jacob didn't look to be much older than ten, and a child his age should not be allowed to run ramped rampant about the countryside. She could see why the boy knew no boundaries when it came to his behavior; his father never set them–or simply never paid them heed. Because he’s an asshole.

They finished their journey in silence, and as they drew closer and closer to her bedchamber, Christine's thoughts began to drift away from the children to that of the muscular man who towered next to her. Suddenly, a giant wave of apprehension washed over her. She was sure that Sir Erik remembered her words when they were arguing in the servant's quarters, about how they had as of yet to consummate the marriage, and she truly began to wonder if such a thing would ever take place. But now…as she stood before the door to her bedchamber, she wondered if perhaps Sir Erik would take advantage of this moment and…fulfill…their marriage vows… I hope he does. It’s about damn time someone in this fic got laid.

"T-t-thank you," Christine whispered, shakily, as Sir Erik opened the door to her chamber.

Erik said nothing, but slowly realized that his hand still held hers. Their fingers had somehow interwoven, and Erik found that he did not wish to release them. Christine was unsure what to do either. Sir Erik had only held her hand a few times, and all of them had been to guide her somewhere. But right now, as they stood side by side, their hands clasped together, she felt a surge of intense energy course through her…and a strange feeling It’s called arousal. spread from deep in her belly…all the way between her thighs. Six!

"I am sorry…" he softly murmured, his tone unlike any she had heard him speak with before. Gentle, almost like when she had discovered him humming to the twins. She gazed up at him, her eyes slightly widened with surprise by his words; she even stumbled back from the surprise of it all.

"I will see to it that the children apologize to you," he promised her, his golden gaze Butler!Erik had green eyes last time I checked. locking with hers in an intense stare.

Christine's face fell just slightly at his words. A part of her knew she should appreciate Sir Erik's gesture, he was at least showing that he felt pity for her and did notice the sexual frustration she was experiencing. But an apology from the children, after being forced by him to give it to her, would only make them resent her more…as well as not win their respect. And her husband also had to come to realize that he too was responsible for how they behaved, and for how they were behaving.

Also, the fact still remained that he had deceived her into marrying him. He did? She was not ready to forgive him of that.

"Good night, my lord," Christine simply murmured, releasing his hand and moving into her chamber without another word or glance, before softly shutting the door behind her, leaving him to stand alone in the hall.

Erik stared at the door, his body urging him to go inside, to stop her from walking away, to sample her sweet lips once more, or to at least force her to turn around and shake her until she told him everything that she was thinking. Three days ago, Erik was not aware of the fiery spirit that his young wife possessed, but after only spending one day in his home, he had seen several examples of her temper and passion. Where had it come from? For a woman who had been brought up as a servant, always obeying orders, no matter how atrocious, where had this suppressed side of her come? Seven!

He did not know…but he longed to see more, as well as hear her thoughts. Such as what she was thinking at that exact moment, for he read the displeasure she held for him in her eyes.

And he knew, deep in his heart, that she was justified.

Jacob still remained missing the next day, and Christine seemed to be the only person who was concerned. No wonder he runs away all the time, if no one at home cares about his safety. When she came down for breakfast, only Sarah and Sabrina were found at the table. According to Anne, Helena and Charles had been seen sneaking some food out of the kitchens, before racing off into the courtyard and out of sight.

It was a far more pleasant breakfast than the day before. Christine learned that Sarah and Sabrina were only three, and truly did not possess a horrid bone in their body. At one time they began to pout and wail when they demanded something sweet instead of the porridge that Anne was serving them, but Christine put a stop on that right away, telling them how silly they looked when they scrunched their little faces up and whined.

"See? Don't I look silly when I do it?" she then proceeded to scrunch her own face up and let out a wail. Anne could not help but laugh as Christine mimicked the two girls, and soon the twins were joining in with their own giggles. "I told you it was silly," she grinned at the girls. “Grinned” is not a dialogue tag.

"But I don't like porridge," little Sarah complained.

"Me either," Sabrina agreed.

"Well, perhaps we can pretend it's something else?" Christine suggested, dipping her spoon into her own bowl. "What do you like?"
Giovanna: For breakfast? Bread and honey.
Thomas: Scrambled eggs.

"PUDDING!" both girls chimed in, grinning from ear to ear.

Their smiles were contagious. "All right, pudding then," she took her spoon and put it in her mouth and began murmuring how delicious it tasted. "Oh this pudding is wonderful! So sweet and creamy." If it’s sweet and creamy, wouldn’t it be custard?

Sabrina frowned slightly. "But it's not pudding…" she pouted.

"No, but when I pretend it is, and concentrate hard enough, I can imagine I'm tasting pudding," Christine explained, smiling at the two girls. Does that mean if I pretend this fic is good and concentrate hard enough, I can imagine I’m reading a good fic? *concentrates* …It’s not working.

Sarah giggled and dug her spoon into her bowl and proceeded to copy Christine. Christine laughed at the girl's expression as she pretended to be eating the most delicious pudding she had ever tasted. "What sort of pudding do you have?" she asked the child.

"Plum," the girl grinned, liking this game very much.

Sabrina didn't want to be left out and immediately began to copy her sister. "I'm having apple!" she announced, before shoveling a large spoonful into her mouth.

Christine giggled and joined in. "Mine tastes of sweet dates and walnuts," she grinned, as she tasted another spoonful, joining the girls in their newfound feast. Now I want pudding. So do I.

[snip Anne being amazed that Christine got the twins to eat their breakfast]

"Well," Christine rose from her chair. "What shall we do today?"

Suddenly, the twins looked down at their feet and sad expressions quickly creased their little faces. Christine's brow furrowed at this sudden change in emotion and she went around the table to where the two girls sat.

"Jacob won't let us play with him," Sarah pouted.

"And Charles called us whelps!" Sabrina fumed, looking most angry at the word she did not truly understand. Eight! And that phrase was unnecessary.

"That's not very nice," Christine agreed, hoping to learn a little more from her two new friends. "Why won't he let you play with him? And why do you think Charles said that?"

"Because we didn't want to stay in the pirate's cave!" Sarah wailed.

"Pirate's cave?" Christine repeated, a frown creasing her brow.

Sabrina nodded. "It's too cold…and it smells icky."

[snip Christine figuring out Jacob must be hiding in the cave]

"Would you like to play a game with me?" Christine asked the girls, and both of them grinned broadly and eagerly nodded their heads. "Good. The game we're going to play is…" she thought for a moment and then came up with a title. "Knights Sporkers and Dragons Sues, and we're the knights sporkers." Funny, I would’ve thought you’d be the Sues. But if you want to help…

Sarah squinted her face at this. "But…we're girls. Jacob and Charles say that girls can't be knights sporkers."

Christine waved her hand as if that were the silliest thing she had ever heard. "They're dragons Stus, what do they know."

Sabrina gasped. "They're dragons Stus?"

Christine grinned and nodded her head. "Yes, and dragons Stus will tell you lies like that because you see…they're really afraid of us!"

The twins grinned even broader at Christine's words. "They're afraid because we're knights sporkers!"

"Exactly! And they know that knights sporkers can beat dragons Sues and Stus, so they don't want us to believe in ourselves, but we can't let them defeat us!" Yes! We shall triumph over the badfic! *raises fist*

The girls were beside themselves, looking most eager to start playing. "What do we do?"

Christine couldn't help but grin back. This really did sound like fun! "First thing's first. A good knight sporker needs to know everything she can about her enemy. So, what we need to do, as quietly as possible, is find this pirate's cave badfic where our dragons Sues and Stus hide."

Sabrina giggled, looking most excited. "Papa can help us! He's a knight sporker! He'll know how to–"

"No." Christine felt her face go red as she realized she had just interrupted the child when she mentioned Sir Erik. Both girls looked disappointed and Christine felt horrible for squashing their hopes. "What I mean is…not yet, at least," Christine cut in, glad to see their smiles return. "You see, the Black Knight has been lied to by the dragons is a Stu as well."

"He has is?" both girls gasped.

Christine nodded her head. "He too, doesn't think that girls can be knights sporkers, but we must prove to him that we are just as brave and fearless as he!"

"How will we prove it?" Sarah asked, her excitement radiating in her bright green eyes. Nine!

That was an excellent question. "By catching a dragon killing a Sue," she announced, as soon as the thought came to her.

Suddenly both girls looked nervous. "C-c-catching a dragon Killing a Sue?"

"Yes," Christine continued, amazed at how much of this was coming just from a whim. Ten! "If we can catch kill one of the dragons Sues, the Black Knight will see how brave we are, renounce his Stu-ish ways, and join us in battling the other dragons Sues and Stus."

Both girls clapped their hands, looking most eager to start playing. "But there is something very important to keep in mind," Christine murmured in a hushed voice, and the twins leaned in closely to hear her. "No matter what, we mustn't tell the others! If they find out, they will begin drawing up battle plans!"

"Can we tell Papa?" Sabrina softly asked.

"Not yet," Christine whispered. "But hopefully, very soon."

The girls seemed satisfied by this and then eagerly scrambled down from their chairs, each of them taking one of Christine's hands. "We'll show you where the dragons Sues and Stus hide!" they both announced in hushed whispers, before tugging on her hands to lead her away.

Christine couldn't believe the story she had gotten herself into! But a grin spread over her face as she realized that perhaps her life here at Winterbourne would not be so bad. For the first time in her life, she was having fun. I’m glad someone is, because we aren’t.

"I HATE CHRISTINE!" Carlotta shrieked, picking up a flowerpot and throwing it across the room, not caring that the dirt had spread everywhere or that it had smashed into a hundred pieces. "I HATE HER! I HATE HER! I HATE HER!"

"SHUT UP!" Philippe roared, his head pounding from listening to his sister's complaints for the last hour. He speaks for all of us. All week, Carlotta had done nothing but shriek and scream and pout and throw things, all in her anger that Christine had married the wealthy Black Knight, and she was left there, practically penniless, without any suitors or marriage proposals. Hey, I know Carlotta was kind of an egotistical bitch, but she had more dignity than this!

Word was slowly starting to get out that Pierre de Coleville had no money left. But what was worse was the gossip that was spreading near and far about how the Black Knight snubbed the beautiful Carlotta de Coleville…to instead, marry a servant.

It seemed that no man wanted Carlotta after that, and it didn't help that her tantrums were growing worse each day. The day after the Black Knight had taken Christine, Lady Maria sent hundreds of invitations out to barons, nobles, Barons are nobles, you silly author. and knights, from the old to the young, just so long as they had land and money, and only a handful had replied.

"SHE STOLE MY HUSBAND!" Carlotta fumed, searching for something else in the room to throw.

"You didn't even want to marry him in the first place!" her brother accused, his patience thinning every second. Why are the badfic characters we’re supposed to dislike always the ones that make the most sense?

"BUT THAT DIDN'T MEAN I WANTED CHRISTINE TO MARRY HIM!" she shouted, finding something else that was breakable, and flinging it across the room with all her might.

Philippe rose from the place he sat and stalked over the to the window, gazing out at the ravaged vegetable garden below, a place that was slowly starting to become more and more of their dinner source.
Giovanna: *confused* What is a vegetable garden if not a food source?
Thomas: And what have you been doing with those vegetables if you haven’t been eating them?
Giovanna: I don’t know, but I can think of a few things Carlotta could do with cucumbers…

"What we need is a way to find Christine…a way to somehow, 'remove her', so to speak, from the Black Knight, and get you in the marriage bed, instead."

Carlotta glared at her brother. "You don't care about me, you just want to get your hands on Christine! I don't know what you see in her," she flopped down on a cushioned chair and pouted. "It's not like she's pretty or anything." She’s the heroine of a bad romance fic, which means every man wants to get under her shift. That’s what he sees in her.

Philippe ignored his sister and kept his eyes focused on two servants that were working in the garden. One was a large man and the other an extremely pregnant woman. Philippe never paid attention to the servants, however he did recall seeing Christine talk with the pregnant woman before…

"I think I have an idea on how to solve both our problems, dear sister," Philippe murmured, his eyes never leaving the servants as they toiled together in the garden.

Carlotta's silver-blonde brow creased with confusion. Since when was Carlotta a blonde? "What are you babbling about?"

"Go find mother," Philippe commanded, not even bothering to turn and look at her. "Tell her we need more money."

Carlotta rolled her eyes. "Papa won't allow it! He's already denied you money since you've returned! It won't matter how much Mama complains!"

"Then that will simply mean we'll have to…let go…of the things that tie us down," he growled evilly, his eyes never leaving the pregnant couple.
Thomas: You know, I’m starting to think Philippe might be evil.
Giovanna: So am I. I can’t tell, though. It’s just so subtle!

Comments

[igenlode]

it matched her mood
She was in a stormy mood? Sounds more like Carlotta...


It was by no means as fierce as the storm that had arisen the night before
They had a violent storm the previous night as well? And it had blown itself out already, and now yet another one had started up? This is obviously dramatically convenient weather :-p

She had only spent one day at Winterbourne
But apparently they've had storms every day so far...

The de Coleville’s what?

Home/house/rooms/shop -- that's perfectly normal usage, I'm afraid.
"I went round to my sister's on Friday"/"I got these bananas at the greengrocer's by the petrol station"/"He spent the summer at the von Mannheims' in Switzerland"

However (see last example), since the de Colevilles are plural -- otherwise the expression would be simply "I called in at de Coleville's on my way down to the Quad", for instance -- the apostrophe is in the wrong place :-p

He probably was never around to do the work; always believing some servant would take care of it for him
The author thinks she knows how to use semi-colons; she doesn't!

I notice the author neglected to mention whether or not she was wearing the shift at the time
Now I'm picturing her solemnly swaddling a shift lying on the bed :-p

Her ears perked
What is she, a fox? A bunny-rabbit?

Sir Erik had heard them crying before anyone else
How does she know he heard them crying before she did? After all, she took a long time getting down here, what with lying awake thinking about ghosts, shifting barricades of furniture, and descending from the tower through a twisty maze of winding passages, all alike...

their tiny eyes closed
Their little beady eyes? Most children have disproportionately large eyes compared to the size of their heads (hence anime art) -- I think she's trying to make them sound sweet and dainty, but the mental image is of an overweight shaven-headed thug with eyes too small and too close together...


"I heard your feet, padding along the stones," Erik explained, seeing the question in her eyes. "Not to mention I could smell you."
Don't you think the fact that she was carrying a candle in a darkened corridor might have had more to do with it? ;-p

candlelight revealed a very sensuous outline of her body beneath her pale shift
I thought we were in Christine's point of view?
The only way the light is going to reveal the outline of anything is if she is between him and the light source. Which is a bit difficult to arrange, since they're both presumably holding their candles in front of them...

Also, if she's standing around in an unheated stone corridor without a shawl on, isn't she rapidly going to get extremely cold?

perhaps motherhood suits you after all
Given that this remark is apparently triggered off as a result of his ogling her body, it rather sounds as if he is implying that she is visibly pregnant :-p

her good nature still shined through
shone

While he may not see it as a problem, Christine surely did.
Tense whiplash!

the muscular man who towered next to her. Suddenly, a giant wave
The huge man was waving?


about how they had as of yet to consummate the marriage
I think she probably means 'had yet to consummate', although she might mean 'had as of yet not consummated'... clearly the author was breathing so hotly at the mere mention of consummation that her grammar went wild!

Erik found that he did not wish to release
Whose point of view is this again?

her eyes slightly widened with surprise by his words; she even stumbled back from the surprise
We get it -- she was surprised ;-p

She was not ready to forgive him of that
for that

longed to see more, as well as hear her thoughts. Such as what she was thinking at that exact moment, for he read the displeasure she held for him in her eyes
In that case I really doubt that he would want to hear her thoughts about him at that precise moment -- he already knows they're likely to be highly unflattering!

truly did not possess a horrid bone in their body
I know they're twins, but.. conjoined twins? ;-p

"Jacob won't let us play with him," Sarah pouted
If they're only three, I'm not at all surprised. Older boys very rarely have any desire to play with toddlers -- this isn't exactly a stratospheric level of evil on Jacob's part...

"I HATE CHRISTINE!" Carlotta shrieked
What? I'm assuming there's some kind of chapter break missing there...

picking up a flowerpot and throwing it across the room, not caring that the dirt had spread everywhere or that it had smashed into a hundred pieces
What about the plant presumably rolling around on the floor? Or does Carlotta make a habit of keeping flowerpots full of nothing but earth in her home?

[betweensunandmoon]

This is obviously dramatically convenient weather :-p

I noticed.

Home/house/rooms/shop -- that's perfectly normal usage, I'm afraid.

In retrospect, that wasn't the best way to make fun of the incorrectly placed apostrophe...

The author thinks she knows how to use semi-colons; she doesn't!

Punctuation is for losers who don't write popular fanfics!

I think she's trying to make them sound sweet and dainty, but the mental image is of an overweight shaven-headed thug with eyes too small and too close together...

*howls with laughter*

Don't you think the fact that she was carrying a candle in a darkened corridor might have had more to do with it? ;-p

I think Lady Rosesong forgot about the candle. :P

I think she probably means 'had yet to consummate', although she might mean 'had as of yet not consummated'... clearly the author was breathing so hotly at the mere mention of consummation that her grammar went wild!

I hear a steady diet of good smut can help with that.

Whose point of view is this again?

*shrugs*

[igenlode]

I think Lady Rosesong forgot about the candle. :P
Well, it did occur to me that if Christine were wearing a shawl and carrying a candle, she would (a) be much more likely to drop the candle when surprised rather than letting the shawl fall off her shoulders, and (b) would be in some danger of having the shawl catch the candle if she were clutching it together and suddenly let go (the only mechanism I can envisage for a shawl suddenly falling off like that)!