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Hes changed so much, Christinehes a different man now, and a wonderful husband. We are very happy together

Aaaghhh! Groaning in self disgust, Meg flung her shoes against the door one after another. Somehow throwing something made her feel better, but she knew it was no use: Christines words had repeated over and over in her mind ever since their fateful encounter. She remembered every detail without wishing to, especially the expression on Christines face. It had been a mixture of disbelief, distress, pity and condescension. Her only friend had judged her a fool, at best incomprehensibly nave. Now, as the days lengthened into weeks, Meg had to admit she was right.

How could I have been so gullible and stupid? she whispered, placing her hands over her ears. She had sincerely believed in Eriks love, but that was before she knew the truth

How can you have anything to do with him, after what he did to me? Christine had railed at her.

But he loved you! shed accused, eager to defend her husband. How could you betray him the way you did, Christine? You broke his heart, and his spirit

I had to--he wouldnt take no for an answer

Because you teased him by your response, then drove him mad with jealousy, and if that wasnt enough, you stripped off his mask in front of everyone at the premiere of his opera!

How could you marry him, Meg? He is out of his mindinsane! Everyone knows that!

I didnt know how much he loved you, that is how I could marry him! she said aloud, picking up the clothes she had strewn over the chair. And I certainly didnt know how much you really shared, she choked, tears flooding her eyes. Or the fact that he gave you a wedding ring!

Suddenly her own ring caught the light and she slowed to a standstill. Slowly lifting her hand, she studied the way it sparkled and captured the eye. The memory of his eyes lit with heated desire affected her so unexpectedly that she reached out to steady herself, placing a hand on her wardrobe. She closed her eyes as his sensual whisper filled her mind, as strongly as if her were present. With a ragged sigh she admitted to herself that she still loved him, and probably always would. He haunted her dreams and teased her memory during waking hours, proving her weakness for him.

Opening her eyes she turned abruptly, stalking over to the pile of clothing strewn upon her bed. Bending to pick up a blouse, she folded it with renewed determination to put not only her room but her life in order. Without being asked to, Christine had shared with her how Erik had wooed her, touched her with his voice and with his hands, weakening her resolve until she ran away from him. And Meg had to admit she had run away too, but not to reject him. Erik was her husband now, and he would understand because of the note she had left him. She had to get away to think, try to overcome her anger at both of them and prepare herself to discuss the matter of Christine with him. Though his delay in coming after her was decidedly worrisome, she felt somewhat reassured by Inspector Legers insistence that Erik was unavoidably detained with business, and that she must respect their agreed upon confidentiality. With a frustrated sigh, she picked up a pile of her folded clothing and carried it to the wardrobe.

Why didnt he ever tell me anything, especially about a wedding ring? she wondered aloud. More importantly, why hadnt she asked him, and what else could he be hiding from her?

There was a knock on the door, startling her. She turned and headed toward it just as it opened. Her mother looked in, narrowing her gaze upon Meg.

Are you all right? she asked, letting herself in as she closed the door behind her. I heard something fall

Im fine, she answered, marching to the bed to fold the rest of her things. Just cleaning up.

Louise scanned the room suspiciously. Yes, I can see thatperfectly fine.

Meg busied herself with folding at a quicker pace, trying to ignore her mothers approach. She was aware of her stopping, folding her arms and staring at her profile.

When are you finally going to come to your senses and answer him?

Frowning, Meg glanced up at her mother. When Im ready, Maman, and no sooner.

Louise gripped her arm, stopping her. Marguerite Giry, you are a married woman nowstop acting like a child and forget the past!

Meg shook off her mothers hand and turned back to her folding. Im not a child

And stop acting like someone diedif you miss him it is your own fault!

She looked at her mother over one shoulder. How can you be so harsh? You know all that I have been through these past weeks, all Ive suffered

Louise huffed in disapproval. Your suffering is from entertaining Christines gossip, she answered, crossing her arms. I think your time would be better spent honoring your husband enough to hear his side of the story.

Christine is just worried about me.

I think she is more worried about herselfuse your head, MargueriteErik loves you, and you know it.

Meg straightened and faced her mother. I thought he loved me, but that was before I found out that he had asked Christine to marry him!

How long ago was that, Marguerite? And did he not express his love to you in a much more profound way than he did with Christine?

Meg looked away. He never said that he loved methat is what haunts me still.

Louise shook her head. You must give him time, petiteand do not judge him by her word. Answer his request to see you

Im afraid, Maman! she whispered, gripping her mothers hands. What if he cannot love me? What if he is angry? After hearing everything Christine said, I do not know how to trust him, especially when I look into those eyes of his

I know those eyes very well, and they never lie, Louise reminded her gently. Just remember how they looked upon you, petitethat is all that matters.


Erik covered his face with his hands, choking against the great sobs that gripped his chest. Rain pelted against his thin shirt, whipping his back and driven by the howling wind. The fury of the storm only added to his misery, punishing him as he knelt at the granite summit. It released the grief and pain he had kept hidden inside, bringing a strange sense of relief after weeks of fighting his feelings. Although his head was bent and his eyes were squeezed shut, he could see her face and the love and desire in her eyes. Quickly pulling himself up, he fisted his hands and threw back his head to look at the ominously darkening heavens.

Whyyyyy? he cried hoarsely, hearing his voice caught by the wind and carried away. He choked back a sob, shaking his head. Why did you give her to me, only to take her away?

It was a desperate plea, one he had left unspoken for too long. His only answer was the fury of the storm, not the voice he longed to hear. Even after weeks of pouring over his Bible and praying, he still had no idea why. Shoved by a gust of wind, he let his anger take him, holding his ground as he voiced his objections.

I loved her! he yelled, staring through the sheets of rain that slanted sideways. Rivulets of water streamed down his face, brushed away with a swipe of his hand. Really loved her! he insisted. It was not an illusion, it was real!

His voice caught on every other word, ripped from him by his grief. His bag flapped against his hip, throwing him off balance. A branch clipped his shoulder as it flew by, making him spring into action. He ran along the ridge, bending to pick up a heavy stick that lay in his path. He flung it over the edge, pausing to stare down at its progress as it sailed toward the valley below. With a satisfied grin, he bent and picked up a rock, moving closer toward the precipice.

Look at me! he yelled, flinging it over angrily. Alone again! Left to my own miserable company--do you see me? Do you hear me?

Only the wild gusts of wind answered him, and when he felt his bag twist at his side he pulled it from his shoulder. Taking another step toward the edge, he slipped on the wet rock but twisted his boot and planted himself firmly, shirttails flapping around his back. He swung the bag in a circle high overhead like a lasso.

I dont need your advice! he protested, whirling the bag. I was fine before, Ill be fine now! he said, watching it in twisted fascination. In fact he breathed, I dont need a single thing!

Having made that declaration, he opened his hand and let the bag go. It unfurled and opened, emptying its contents in the wind as it flew toward the valley below. All the necessary items of daily use fell away, leaving behind a strange feeling of freedom. Erik planted his hands on his hips and watched until it disappeared from sight. The rain increased in speed, yet he stood there for some time, forcing the past from his mind. Then, as if the deed was done, he turned and trudged back toward the road.

His steps were somewhat erratic, products of his exhaustion and from not having slept or eaten for more than a day. But he fixed his eyes on the lights below, trusting them to guide him to shelter. He would make a bed in the barn for himself, hoping that Isaac would not be up this late. His only goal was to get out of the rain and fall into oblivion, hopefully without anyone seeing him.


Arlene held Saritas hand as they listened intently, bent together near the door to Megs room. From deep inside its confines they could hear an occasional muffled sound, barely audible. A broken sob, a shudder
definitely a mans voice. In that moment the burden of prayer she had carried for weeks began to make sense. She looked back into Saritas worried gaze.

I heard him stumble in the hall and went to my door, but I only peeked out, she whispered to Arlene.

Did you get a good look at him?

Not reallybut he has very dark hair, and he had to duck to enter.

Arlene nodded. How long ago?

A quarter of an hourIm sorry I didnt have the courage to confront him.

Arlene squeezed her hand. You did well, she whispered, nodding toward the opposite end of the corridor. When they were out of range of being overheard, she faced the girl.

What man would be bold enough to enter the womens quarters? Sarita whispered in dismay. He even locked himself in.

Arlene glanced back toward Megs door. How was he dressed?

He was soaked and disheveled, and all he wore was a thin white shirt and black trousers.

Arlene nodded. Did he seem hurt, or sick?

Sarita looked back from the door, her eyes searching Arlenes face. MaybeI saw him lean his forehead against the door as if resting there, or undecided. I really hoped he would change his mind and leave.

Did he do anything else, or say anything?

Sarita glanced back toward the room. He touched the door with his fingertips, and he whispered something I could not hear. I thought I heard him choke, but then he straightened and went in quickly.

He did not see you?

I doubt it. When I heard the latch I ran to get you...what shall we do?

Arlene straightened and looked her in the eye. I do not want anyone to disturb him Sarita, understand?

Though she looked confused, the girl nodded. Of course, Madame.

If your hear anything alarming, anything violent or any indication that he has fallen, come and get me or Pieter right away. We will be downstairs.

But the rulesno men are allowed

I believe it is Megs husband; they were married here, just before you came to us. Something must have happened to upset him, but for now we must let him rest.

Did he not have a room in the mens building?

He did, but he has come here instead. I want you to have a tray brought here with breakfast but just leave it in front of the door. Do not knock or call out, all right?

Sarita nodded. Yes, and I will pray for him.

Goodwe will all be praying for him. His name is Erik and he is a good man, Sarita, Arlene said, turning to leave. Then she changed her mind. One more thingif you should see his face, try not to be alarmed.

Is he the one whom Ive heard about, the one with the mask?

Yes, but he does not wear it here. Just pretend he is one of your patients and you will be fine.


c. 2006 by Christine Levitt

Chapter 46 In the Balance (edited)

Erik lay on his back in her bed, one arm flung over his eyes. His stomach ached with what he prayed would be the last of the gut wrenching sobs wrung from deep within his soul.

Grief is a cruel master, he groaned, reliving the torment he had suffered since that night in Brussels. Memories of the past and desperate hopes for the future had waged their war within him day and night, driving him along a senseless course that led him here. Exhausted and emotionally drained, he felt strangely relieved, almost as if at peace. It was time to face the present.

Slowly lifting his arm away, he opened his eyes. Dancing patterns of light thrown upon the ceiling from the two small candles hed lit looked almost cheerful. With a cynical snort he shifted his gaze around the little bedroom, comparing its hushed quiet to the sound of the wind outside. He realized that the storm had accompanied him ever since he disembarked the train in the village below. It had beat against him during his slow progress hiking up to the ridge, then mocked him when he found the cabin locked and empty. It had pushed him toward the edge of the cliff, flung debris at him and shouted its fury just for his benefit. Now, nestling his head back into the pillow, he smiled at the small triumph of surviving it. He had found shelter, a place to be alone and hopefully get some rest. Nudging the blankets halfway down his bare chest, he was thankful that the last of his chills had departed and he was finally warm and comfortable. At least in body.

His eyes traveled to the hooks lined up along the back wall, narrowing to focus on his wet shirt and trousers stretched out to dry. Having finally stopped dripping, they were well on their way toward a slow transformation back to dry clothing. His underwear and hose dried upon the caned chair, his hose reaching down toward his overturned boots and the small puddle of rainwater lying on the floorboards.

There will be no leaving until they dry, he whispered tiredly, moving his gaze to the white painted wardrobe standing in the corner. And theres nothing in there to borrow.

He closed his eyes, trying to ignore the soft familiar scent that rose to his nostrils from her bed linens. Listening to the gusts of wind beating the roof, he sighed contentedly and willingly gave himself up to the heavy pull of sleep.



Meg refolded the telegram with trembling fingers, angrily shoving it back into her pocket. She straightened her shoulders and took the final step, forcing herself to enter his quarters. Papers and clothes were strewn everywhere, all the drawers hung halfway open, and a candelabra lay overturned next to the organ. It was a scene unrelated to the order and serenity she was accustomed to, though she had to admit she'd only come here twice before. Bending to snatch up two pillows and several articles of clothing, she decided to leave the pile of sooty towels where it lay on the floor. Marching toward the organ, she gathered the stubs of wax scattered around it, shoving them into the mound of material tucked inside her elbow. Then she turned and threw everything onto the cushioned chair, planting her hands on her hips.

Legers men must have enjoyed tearing the place apart, she decided, shaking her head at the remains of their thorough search. Surely her mother must have objected to their treatment of his things. She laughed softly at a vision of her mother scolding the burly detective and the coolly determined inspector. Then, with a resigned sigh she began to pick up the hundreds of papers strewn everywhere in flagrant disregard. Pages of printed sheet music had been trampled underfoot, some torn and ruined. Even the waters edge was littered with sheet music, articles of clothing and furniture.

By the time she retrieved most of the papers she stood panting by the organ, tapping pages of music into a manageable stack. This she rested upon the top shelf, letting her eyes run over the dusty keys up to the printed music spread out along the stand. These had to be included, and as she pulled them into a manageable stack she stopped when she saw Eriks handwriting. Beneath two other compositions there was a sheet of notations that were scribbled as if in haste. She held it up to the light and stared at her name, her heart thumping with emotion. Studying it in disbelief, she slowly sat upon the bench.

Megs Song she whispered, her eyes moving over the notes and returning to the date. March 29 She touched the writing with her fingertip and traced the title. No year, she croaked, shaking her head as her eyes filled with tears. He didnt fix the year.

She shut her eyes and journeyed unwillingly to that fateful night, aware of something awakening to thought. Here, in Eriks home, she finally remembered. She saw herself, with him, for he had carried her here, tended her wounds and spoken only a few words of comfort before carrying her back up to her world, to her mother. Once again, she could see the pain in his eyes, and the understanding.

Meg opened her eyes, feeling his presence so strongly that she turned her head, half expecting to see him. But she was alone, left by her own design to come to terms with the man she had married and her treatment of him. She was suddenly overwhelmed with guilt and longing. Not only had he saved her life, but he had let her know that he valued her, even cherished her. He had shared the comforts of his home with her, even that long ago.

Why didnt I remember? she asked the silence.

She directed her attention back to the music sheet she held, astounded by the fact that he had written her a song. Turning to gently place it on the music stand, she touched the top keyboard, eager to discover what his song sounded like.

Why didnt I continue the lessons, as Maman argued? she whispered, trying to match key with written note. Slowly bringing her feet underneath the organ, she was careful not to touch the foot pedals which would boom loudly in the base notes. Attempting to follow the sketchily drawn notes she was easily frustrated by the difficult minor key, and after several attempts withdrew her hand. She stared at the sheet music, then bowed her head.

Oh Erik

What else was there about him she did not know? Christine had only shared the bad, but there was so much more to him than either of them knew. Not wanting to nor understanding why, she longed for him so intensely it became a physical pain, centered in her chest. Memories of his voice and his touch haunted her, and ever since leaving Brussels had robbed her of sleep. If she managed to work herself enough to gain sleep, she found her dreams filled with his presence. Either she dreamt he was in danger and she pursued him, or she dreamt of the wonder of being held in his arms as he made himself one with her, in every way.

Lifting her head abruptly she shifted away from the organ, reaching out to snatch up the song and add it to the other stack of music. When her feet touched the floor she hurried to the bed and placed it inside the open valise. Then, sorting through what was left of his belongings, she packed them carefully inside, closed the valise and snapped the latch. Not knowing how long she had been there, she reasoned her coming here was vital to setting her life back in order.

It had been difficult to find another way here, sneaking past the main section of tunnels where each day workers labored to transform what had once been Eriks lonely domain into living quarters for the homeless of Paris. Once the work was completed, Leger would order his return and Erik would take up their management. Other than this information, Leger had shared nothing more, warning her sternly not to interfere or she would put both Erik and herself in danger. Despite her pleading and her tears, he would not tell her where Erik was, what he was doing, or when she could see him again. It was clear that she was expected to keep her nose out of their business, keep quiet and wait until Eriks probationary period was completed. Which she had no intention of doing.

Hauling the valise off the bed, she dragged it to the foot of the bed and straightened, surprised at the sudden dizziness which unbalanced her stance. Glancing down at the bed, she reached out a hand and tested the mattress. It was firm. Then, without analyzing her motive beyond the need to rest, she stripped off the top blanket, shook it and unfurled it over the bed. Pounding the pillow a few times, she stretched out and placed her head in its firm embrace. Drawing the blankets high she looked up, stifling a yawn. A little shiver traveled down her neck to her shoulder and she glanced at her dress lying over the chair by the bed. It was too dusty sleep in; her chemise would have to do.

Shrugging down into the bed, she was surprised at how comfortable it was, and forced herself to lie still and enjoy it. But as she lay there she kept seeing the elegant sweep of his handwriting where he had executed her name across the top of his composition.

Megs Song she whispered softly, her mind racing. Apparently he used her nickname that long ago, and the thought gave her a little thrill of pleasure. She glanced toward his organ and tried to envision him sitting there composing, writing her name. Wearing the white ruffled shirt that gaped open to mid chest. Quelling that thought, she remembered the telegrams hed sent, rude and abrupt in tone, addressing her by her formal name. Doubt skipped along the edges of her mind as she tried to reconcile the two conflicting sides of his personality. She remembered the days of his recovery at the parish, the soft compelling way he had spoken to her, and her doubt intensified. How could he have changed so much in so little time?

My clever little accomplicehed first called her the night they rode away on Prince. Later, it was Mademoiselle, then 'Meg'. Always 'Meg.' She tried to remember him using her full name, but it was only in connection with their wedding vows. Reaching out her hand, she pulled the other pillow to her chest and held it close, distracted from the scent of his shaving cream that clung there.

How unlike him to use Marguerite she whispered, staring at the ceiling, remembering his voice and his whispers. Closing her eyes, she began to pray once again.

Its not fair, Lord, she whispered. We were happy, and I thought he loved me, but then I saw Christine

Meg opened her eyes and glanced toward the place where the canal emptied into a small lagoon, just beyond the living area. She knew this was where the final confrontation had taken place, yet she could not picture it in her mind. Christine had been here, and by her report she had thrilled in experiencing his embrace and his touch. Later, she had kissed him in front of Raoul. Meg pictured Christines face as she had related every detail, telling her that it had been a real kiss, one that had rocked both of them to their core.

Groaning in pain, Meg turned away onto her side and tried to control herself. I know that was the past, she choked in a sob. But how can I forget what happened between them?

She lay that way a long time, feeling the weight of her loneliness despite the gentle lap of the water, soothing her. There was no other sound in the cavernous world where she found herself. Then she thought she heard an answer.

Trust me

They were simple words, yet they filtered into her mind, sounding like Eriks voice but somehow different. She knew it was not Erik, and that she must answer back.

I do trust you, she whispered, still listening. But how can I trust him, when he has so many secrets?

Trust me

Taking a deep breath, she pulled the bed linens to her ears and settled next to the extra pillow, closing her eyes. The sound of the water led her toward sleep, and as she relaxed more completely, she was impressed with another thought.

Beware of those who say they are friends

Once again she saw Christines face, the friend who had been in her life for so long, gradually changing over time. She remembered their encounter in Brussels, and for the first time saw her with sudden clarity. Christine had become the wedge to divide all her relationships, starting with Erik, ending with Erik, and now influencing even her mother and Ben.

Ben had come to Paris for a visit just after her return, shocking her with the news that he had attended the medical convention as a last minute decision. Somehow they had missed each other in the crowds that filled the city. She had explained everything to him, and he had sided with her against their mother. He said he never liked Christine and chose to avoid her, something Meg had never known before.

By now he would be finished with his fortnight of training in Switzerland and no doubt on his way back to the parish...she remembered her life there, missing it and everyone waiting there. And she could not exclude the man she had gotten to know and grown so close to there. She sighed deeply, remembering how they had made so many memories there together good memories.



Ben stood in the breakfast line, gloomily considering what he would do with the discovery he had made on his way home a few hours earlier. Bone weary with a rumbling stomach, he resigned himself to a long wait before he got to the food.

Scanning the crowded dining hall, his eyes sighted the one person he most looked forward to meeting. She was carrying a tray from the buffet, headed in his direction. Straightening to attention, he stared at her with nearly as desperate a hunger, surprising himself. Hed missed her, and as she drew nearer she was shocked at the bright smile she directed toward him. A jolt of excitement coursed through his heart but he found himself speechless as she came near and passed him. Her shy smile and backward glance were answered by what he knew was a dumbfounded expression, then she was gone.

He felt a hand press his shoulder and the fog in his brain lifted. Glancing back, he saw the older man behind him nod before they shuffled up a few steps in line.

Sorry, he mumbled, turning away with reddening ears. How can I act so stupid around her?

His stomach growled loudly, returning him to his previous thoughts before Sarita had appeared. Unaware of how deeply he frowned, Ben felt his anger boiling once again as his suspicions were now confirmed. He remembered Megs appearance and anguished expression, and the cause was right here under his nose. Erik was hiding here at the parish, and he intended to find him as soon as he had some nourishment. He remembered finding the bag and widely scattered contents along his path home in the storm. His horse had stopped abruptly when he stepped onto a sharp object, and Ben had to dismount to check Danes hoof. Thankfully it had not been cut, for shattered beneath it was a shaving mug. A quick scan of the surroundings had produced a man's toilette bag and the precious book his sister had given to her husband. Back in his room he read only the first three soggy pages, for it had not taken long to discover how deeply she loved the man who had casually discarded her handiwork, as well as her. Now the bag and its offending contents were drying out in his room, waiting for him to gather and return them to their rightful owner, as soon as he found him.

He was in the barn last night, Ben concluded, remembering the hasty retreat of a shadowy figure when hed ridden in on his horse. Must have scared him away, he thought with a smile, but not too far away. There was only one reason why Erik would come here--Pieter. But he would not stay long, for Erik was, once again, a man on the run, this time from a dangerous job as well as an angry wife and family.

Pounding his fist into his open palm, Ben moved forward in line toward his first hot meal in days.



Erik awoke suddenly, listening intently to the muffled rattle of china just beyond the outer door. Without moving, he focused on the soft tap of footsteps echoing down the hall, followed by silence. He expelled the breath he had been holding and sat up, looking around her room. Pursing his lips, he reminded himself that he was not here to enjoy the peaceful progression of days he had once cherished. Things had changed drastically since his last visit here, foremost of which was the fact that his wife had left him as surely as the one lined telegram she had sent him. It now lay in a safe box on deposit at his bank in Brussels, alongside the stacks of new currency waiting for his use.

There was another telegram before that one, he remembered. It was delivered to Jean while Erik recovered in his hospital bed, refusing to admit its message into his mind, steeling himself from their implication. Rosalie had sent word that Meg was upset because of something about Christine and a wedding ring. And, just before he was discharged, he received his own telegram, this one from his own wife, and he remembered how deeply it cut into his heart and mind:

It is overMarguerite.

Erik shoved the bedcovers aside, his accusing gaze flitting over the feminine dcor surrounding him.

Not even the decency to write a personal note, he whispered, slowly getting up.

He had no idea what Christine had done or said, and he was amazed that she would even mention the ring hed offered her years ago, only to discard it as well as his proposal. Or so he thought.

Well see if its over! he whispered, determining to make his wife honor her vows and not discard all they had shared in their brief time together. It would never be over, for memories of their life together lived on in his thoughts, repeating over and over with each new day. How could she forget? How could she throw away what they both knew had the potential to be a great love? Had she absorbed Christines fear and weakness? Though he tried to entertain that possibility he found he could not. Meg would never throw away something so precious...or had she changed that much?

Running his hands through his hair, he choked back a cynical laugh. Maybe she's lost her mind as well, he whispered, picturing the typeset of her name on the telegram: Marguerite. How formal, he had thought, calling herself by a different name. Neither of them used her full name, she had always seemed to prefer Meg.

Never Marguerite he breathed softly, treading barefoot and approaching her wardrobe. Use of that name bothered him more than he cared to admit, as if it were a testimony of cold civility. Or a change in personality.

Then again, he whispered, do I really know her, having only been with her a few months?

The fact that she had run away upset made sense to him, but staying away did not. Sending telegrams did not. He gripped the wooden handles of her wardrobe, slowly opening the doors to feast his eyes on her things. He reached out to touch the shoulder of one of her blouses.

What went wrong, Meg? he breathed, fanning his fingertips over the feminine clothing hanging there. Then his eyes lowered to the row of shoes standing at attention on the bottom shelf.

So small, he said distractedly, his eyes traveling over each pair and settling on one. He paused, remembering; then he bent down and slowly retrieved one white leather lace up boot. He held it up for inspection, remembering how he had removed it to massage her foot, right out in the next room. A flood of emotion swept over him and he shoved it back, taking a step away from the wardrobe.

He rubbed his aching temple and eventually composed himself, continuing his search. He opened a drawer to his left and saw a small mound of lacy undergarments embellished with pink and green embroidery. This was a realm virtually unknown to him, but he gently touched the undergarments, feeling like a guilty invader but continuing nonetheless. When his fingertips brushed a hard surface he paused, questioning the wisdom of further exploration. Something was hidden here, but after a moments hesitation he drew it out, excusing himself in an efforts to understand her. It was a small book, handmade, like the one she had given him...the one he had thrown over the cliff.

Absently sliding the drawer back in place, he closed the wardrobe doors and sat on the edge of her bed. He eyed his clothing, wondering if it was dry. He scratched the scars running along his naked thigh and shifted his attention back to her book. Was it a diary? Poems she once mentioned writing?

His stomach growled, and he glanced across the parlor toward the front door. Someone had left him a tray, even though his presence was in direct violation of their rules. Should he get it? Would he be discovered if he did? In fact, did he have time to wait for his clothing to dry completely?

He weighed his course of action and decided that no one was going to disturb him, and for that he was thankful. Despite his hunger he slid back onto the bed, sitting with his back against the headboard and pillow. Absently drawing up the blankets over his nakedness, he lifted the book and focused his attention upon it.

The marbled cover was designed like a water garden, reminding him of the pond beneath the willows just beyond this building. He remembered how he had felt sitting with her there the day she had read her mothers note and agreed to marry him. Nervous with anticipation, he opened her book and began to read:

To Nathanwith love.

He stopped. There before his eyes, written in her small, perfect writing, was the unexpected and welcome clue he had discovered: she was in love with someone else. Stunned, he stared at the name, jealously flickering to life like a flame within him. But how was it possible? This meant she had been in love with someone else while she married him.

Clenching his jaw, he forced himself to turn the page and start at the beginning. His eyes devoured each image and word, but what he saw startled him so profoundly that he nearly cried out in pain. He leafed through the book to the end and back, disbelief and shame washing over him with each turn of the page. For it was, to his astonishment, quite clearly a childrens book, beautifully and lovingly designed for a child named Nathan. Tiny animals and leaves were painted along the border of each page, telling a love story to a child, not a man.

Captivated, Erik read it through a second time, his heart melting as he climbed up from depression and anger toward hope. Could this be the clue he needed to understand why she wanted nothing more to do with him? Moistening his lips, he read it aloud in a hoarse whisper

This is a book I made for you Nathan, just for you. It is our story, though we have yet to meet. But I saw you already in a vision, and I know you will someday appear: my own little boy to love. Somehow, by Gods grace, I have seen you ahead of time--and you have your fathers dark hair and beautiful, intelligent eyes, only yours are blue. I saw you when your father and I began to fall in love one night when we looked together through a telescope at the stars and planets. Not long after that the Lord gave me the plan for this book. Its purpose is to tell you and show you, before you are born, how much you are already loved. For if we can never say I love you to those we truly love, we rob them of the greatest happiness the world can know

Eriks eyes flooded with moisture as he laid the book over his bare stomach. He shook his head, trying to face his failure and overcome his guilt for judging her.

I never told you, he confessed to her, his voice choked with emotion. I never said the words.



Sarita finished packing up her medical bag and stepped to her door. Pulling it open, she stepped out into the corridor ready to report to the infirmary for a days work and eager to see Ben again. Laughing to herself in delight, she thanked God that Ben had made it back safe and sound, though looking somewhat worn and tired. She had finally done it, dared to smile at him in the dining hall. And his reaction was just what she had hoped for.

She fastened her cloak and closed her door, turning to look up as another door opened down the hall. She gasped and froze, a hand to her throat as she watched a very tall, very virile man lean halfway out of Meg's room to face her. His shirt was unbuttoned and parted to reveal a heavily muscled chest beneath, and she dragged her eyes up to met his gaze. His expression twisted with regret and apology, for he was obviously aware of being caught trespassing. Sarita stared at his face in shock, for it was handsome, definitely in no need of a mask. Fear gripped her with the realization that this was not the man Arlene had indicated. This man's face was unmarred, dominated by intelligent and beautiful eyes. She watched brows raise up and his lips part before she came to her senses and screamed, turning to run in the opposite direction.

Erik frowned but bent quickly to lift the tray she had left him. He was famished but knew his time was limited, for she would be off to report him. He shut himself back in, placing the tray on the table by the door and breaking off a piece of muffin. Stuffing it into his mouth, he sat and quickly pulled on his boots. Straightening, he reached for the mug and drained half its contents. The coffee was cold but strong, a welcome cure for his headache. He took another bite of muffin and rose, picked up the tray and left it in the hall where he had found it. Reaching for the little book, he stepped into the hall and shut the door behind him, taking the opposite staircase from the one the girl had chosen.



Arlene looked around at the sound of her name being called, then glanced up at Ben as Sarita ran toward them. She was aware of their fondness for each other and wanted to explain to Ben about their unexpected guest. It was puzzling that Sarita apparently had seen Erik's face, for she had thought the girl would handle it in her usual professional manner, not screaming and running away. She felt the girl grab her arm and turned to face her.

"What's wrong?" she asked, half knowing the answer.

His face! Sarita panted, trying to catch her breath. Her eyes flitted to Ben and back. It's not him! It's an imposter! A stranger!

Arlene shot Ben a warning look, seeing him straighten in defense, ready to take care of any intruders. But Sarita shook her arm and she was forced to deal with her first.

What does he look like? she asked the girl.

Not at all like you describedthis man would never need a mask!

Ben seemed to relax and looked away, shaking his head.
"Not Erik," he mumbled, wanting to excuse himself and go look for his new brother-in-law. But hes here somewhere...

He just stood there and stared," Sarita was eplaining.
"Waithere he comes!

Arlene squinted toward the man walking down the path from the womens dormitory. His build and the way he carried himself seemed familiar, and his purposeful stride was confident. When he came near and stopped abruptly, she held his expectant look though he transferred his attention to Ben and studied him as if at a loss for words. Silence reigned for a few seconds. Then Sarita bolted from her place.

I'll run get Pieter, she croaked, fleeing their midst.

Arlene continued to study the man carefully, especially his eyes. They were so like Eriks, but his face

He swung his gaze back to her and nodded.

Erik? she whispered.

Then Ben erupted into action, lunging into his side. You have your nerve! he shouted, thinking only of his sisters pain. Erik stumbled for balance but Ben swung his arm in fury.

Raising his arm to fend off the blow, Erik deflected it and sidestepped as Ben swung again.

Whats wrong with you? he shouted, surprised by the blow that finally caught his jaw.

Youll pay for breaking her heart! Ben yelled, well aware of the crowd gathering around them. He swung again but Erik was too fast for him, catching his arm and twisting it behind his back. Panting with rage, Ben wrestled against the hold but could not free himself.

You have your facts reversed, Erik corrected, shoving him away as he took a step backward. Brother.

Ben shrugged out his arms, then pointed a finger into Erik's chest. Dont call me thatnot unless you plan to apologize to her and make amends!

Erik stared at him as Ben tried to control himself. I would if I could get anywhere near her! he informed him, rubbing his sore jaw.

"She doesn't want to see you!"

--though Ive done nothing to break her heart.

Thats not what she says!

Erik held his belligerent stare. I can imagine, he answered softly.

Ben faltered, surprised at Eriks tone. Why didnt you tell her about your relationship with Christine," he accused, not caring that they had an audience. "Or the wedding ring you gave her?

Erik glanced toward Arlenes stunned expression, then back to Ben. It was completely irrelevant, on both counts, he answered.

"She does'nt think so!" Ben challenged, drawing back as Erik lurched toward him, glaring at him.

I love her and am devoted to her," he said dangerously.
"No one else, not ever.

Ben studied him a moment, his posture wilting as the truth in Erik's words convinced him. Erik dared a glance at Arlene, who came closer, stretching her hand toward his face. He forced himself to remain still under her touch. She touched his mended cheek, a smile breaking from her worried expression.

Erik she sighed happily, cupping his chin like a mother might. You've been healed!"

He pursed his lips. I had plastic surgery, he corected.
Not willingly, to be sure.

I have prayed for you these past weeks, she said, removing her hand. But I can see your pain remains.

His pain? Ben taunted in disbelief. "You should see Meg!

Arlene glanced at him a moment, then back at Erik. What has happened?

Pieters coming, Ben warned, his eyes on the girl walking alongside him. Now I can tell you both everything you need to know about Erik and Christine Daae.

At her name Arlenes expression lit with recognition and she gripped Bens arm. Ben, I think there is something you dont know, she soothed. Perhaps you should listen to his side of the story first.

Erik, Pieter called, quickening his pace until he came to Arlenes side. He looked at the right side of Eriks face and reached out a hand, placing it on his arm. What are you doing here alone? I thought you and Meg

Erik knit his brows together as he looked into Pieters wise face. He nodded once in silent greeting, swallowed and found his voice.

Shes left me," he croaked. "And I need your help to get her back.


c. 2006 by Christine Levitt

Staring at her face in the mirror, Meg knew she had to do something drastic. Her eyes and nose were red from crying and there were dark circles under her eyes. With a tired sigh she dipped a fingertip into the facial cream her mother had handed her without a word. Trying not to resent her mothers interference, she dabbed the mixture beneath each eye and slowly blended it in. As she worked she tried to assess her reflected features as objectively as possible, beginning with her eyes.

Too far apart, she whispered, pausing to look at their color. Brown and ordinary. Her nose was, in her own estimation, too small compared to her wide mouth. Her neck was too long. Her hair too long and in need of trimming. Setting down the little pot of cream, she picked up a kohl pencil and halfheartedly stroked a few lines above and below her lashes. Thankfully they were long and dark, curling and thick. Her lips were, however, another matter. Already showing signs of chapping with the onset of colder weather, she dipped a pinky into rose colored gloss and spread it over them, making an unenthusiastic mental note to remember to use it daily. Leaving worst for last, she glanced up at her hair, took it down and began to brush it with weak strokes, her mind beginning to drift. Unfortunately it wandered quite naturally in the wrong direction, as it had so many times.

Erik had taken her hair down, caressed it with his fingers and inhaled its fragrance. He had made her explain why it smelled like lemons. She could almost hear the gentle roughness of his voice, its timber tickling her senses and moving over her like a caress. As memories swept over her she closed her eyes, drowning with longing for him. He hand dropped limply to her lap as she saw his steady regard in her mind. She remembered the attraction of the desire in his eyes, as well as his careful but exquisite possession of her as he joined them together. They had waited so long to be together, and now it had ended too soon. Still, they had become one person, just as her Bible elucidated. When she opened her eyes and looked into the mirror, she realized that without him she was only half the person she had become, with him. And she missed not only him, but that half of herself.

Face it, she whispered softly to her reflection. Youve got to see him one more timeno matter what he says.

Yet there was the very big problem of not knowing where he was, and being denied any clue to his whereabouts. Added to that was his latest telegram, stating quite simply that parting would be best for all concerned. Its cool rationality had triggered her latest spell of grief, and she forced herself to admit that no matter what she did to her appearance, no matter how much makeup or how bright a smile she wore, she was grieving for her husband. He, on the other hand, was obviously very much alive and busy building a life without her. She saw the tears glinting in her eyes and by sheer force of will straightened her back, pushed away from the table and got up, turning to grab her wrap.

I dont care what it says, she vowed, glancing at his latest telegram. Hes not going to toss me asidenot without a fight!

With purposeful steps she marched from her dormitory wing toward the main section of the opera house, seeing none of the details of its beautifully restored interior, art work or new carpeting. When she finally gained the stage by way of the left wing, she tapped across the wooden flooring, ignoring the dazzling though somewhat smaller chandelier which replaced its magnificent predecessor. Instead she lifted her chin and directed her gaze toward the rows of new seating, focusing on the small group of beginning to gather there. Setting aside her plans to later look for a trail that might lead her to her husband, she focused on these prospective students arrive with their parents, watching their posture and movements as they came in, took off their coats and waited for auditions to begin.

Ah, Mlle. Meg! Mon. Reyer greeted, springing up from the orchestra pit with arms full of sheet music. Thank you for coming earlytheyve already begun to arrive!

She glanced down, smiling indulgently. Madame, not Mademoiselle, she corrected gently, though for what must have been the tenth time since her return. Do you know who will be playing for us, Monsieur?

You are looking at him, he sighed, straightening the pile of papers upon his music stand. No one else would volunteer.

She stepped closer and bent down, glancing toward one woman in particular whom she thought looked familiar. He looked up at her expectantly.

I appreciate your coming here on your day off, she told him, noticing his reluctance. You dont know how much I regret not continuing with my pianoforte lessons. It would have saved you the trouble.

He waved a hand dismissively and turned to slide onto the bench. It would help if we could rehearse your solo afterward he suggested hopefully. I so love the new music.

Perhaps tomorrow, she answered, thinking of her plan and not wanting to rehearse Eriks composition today. Her mood was melancholy enough without dancing to the beautiful song he had written for her.

But I so look forward to it, MademoiMadame, he corrected himself. The music is magnificent, and your interpretation is very moving. I doubt the audience will quickly recover once theyve experienced it.

They will have Don Juan to distract themI think we should start auditions, oui Monsieur?

He glanced over one shoulder, nodding his agreement and beginning the first audition piece. Meg stretched to her full height and walked toward the edge of the stage, looking out at the small group that began to give her their attention.

Good morning, she began with raised voice, threading her fingers together before waist. Welcome to the Opera Populaire. My name is Mme. Marguerite Destler, and I am choreographer for the Childrens Corps de Ballet

A small burst of applause interrupted her, to which she half bowed. And let me introduce Mon. Reyer, Opera Conductor, who will honor us with his playing today. I can see that you are excited to begin, so pleaseladies first, up on the stage.

At that moment her mother arrived, and Meg nodded in greeting as she watched the children ascend the stairs. Again, her attention was drawn to the mother and son who waiting their turn, the boy staring at her wide eyed. He was tense and motionless, and his mother looked expectantly at Meg. Then she recognized who they were, her heart beginning to pound. A movement off to their left distracted her and Raouls voice rose above the music as he directed yet another tour of investors. She looked back at the boy and his mother, opening her lips.

Joseph, she whispered, the boy who had left with Erik that fatal night in Brussels. Had his mother not accompanied him Meg doubted she would have recognized him, so markedly different was his appearance. Very pale and thin, the boy looked as if he was ill, and his behavior was not at all like the bold, carefree boy she had met. Now, his face registered fear and panic, and after one more glance toward the group of adults he suddenly bolted from his mothers side. To her astonishment he ran toward her, his expression changing to hatred. Bracing herself, Meg felt his body slam into her as he threw his arms around her and clung tightly. Struggling for balance, she pushed against him but he would not release her.

Its him! he gasped, staring up at her. His voice was a whispered croak of pain, his eyes wide with alarm. Though she squirmed against his surprisingly strong grip he began to drag her toward the far side of the stage. Out of here! he gasped, whirling his head again to look at Raouls group.

Joseph! his mother protested, running toward them as the other children erupted into shouts and cries of excitement and taunting, completely ignoring the feeble tapping of Mon. Reyers baton as he begged for order.

What is it, Joseph? Meg pleaded, curling her hands around his elbows. Whats wrong?

This is unacceptable, young man! his mother cried, coming up to them and pulling at his arms. Let Mme. Destler go!

Children! Settle down! Mme. Girys voice rang out in command. Meg glanced at her, seeing her stern expression and upheld arm as she scanned the little crowd before her. True to her ability to influence all life forms and circumstances, she managed to bring order as voices were lowered and everyone gave her their attention. She glanced at Meg and nodded, releasing her from her duties as instructor. With a sigh of relief, Meg turned back to Joseph.

Who has frightened you? she asked quietly, but he shook his head vigorously. She met his mothers gaze and saw the woman glance suspiciously toward the group Raoul was leading along the back of the theatre. The investors seemed oblivious to anything outside their circle of influence, continuing their tour and looking up at the new chandelier. Meg saw her release her grip on Josephs arms and instead place her hands on his back in a soothing gesture. She looked Meg in the eye with a pleased but apologetic expression.

This is the first time he has spoken since we last saw you, she said, her words choked with emotion.


Erik turned and glanced back over one shoulder, dull disbelief settling in the pit of his stomach. The array of offerings left spread beneath the trees were, it seemed, a tribute to his infamy. They were also proof of the police corps fears that he had unwittingly gathered a solid group of devotees who remained intent upon his return. The irony of this shrine-like display of affection, compared to the cold treatment of his wife, did not escape him, nor did the recent twist of events hed encountered. Ever since coming back to this city he had felt more and more out of place, as if he had stepped into a foreign landscape unsure of himself and of what to do or say. And he hated feeling that way.

Shifting his gaze from the flowers and notes to the bottles of cologne and intimate articles of womens unmentionables, he pursed his lips in displeasure. He came here risking everything he knew and had become, without his freedom and his privacy. His patience was wearing thin and he knew he didnt have much time. He was on a mission and could not allow any distraction. So he straightened his shoulders, jammed his hands upon his hips and smiled cynically, shaking his head at the articles of worship spread before him.

If it is the phantom which you so desire, then you shall have him, he stated quietly, but afterward, may he rest in peace.

Turning away, he faced the darkness and strode into the same tunnel from which he had fled only months before. Though bound by law to return thus, he was determined to forge his own plans to the best of his abilities, regardless of the consequences. Quickly executing his descent to the lower tunnels, he forced all concern for the past from his mind save one. Glancing up at the dripping ceiling overhead, he knew she was up there somewhere, living her life as she had before. Concentrating on one memory in particular, he saw her running after him, her lovely face lit with determination to help him when no one else had. And for that, he owed her one last chance.

Erik! Aarons voice echoed toward him as he approached the table where his friend stood leaning both hands upon its surface.

Smiling in greeting, Erik extending his hand as he came to a halt. It was gripped in a powerful grasp and shaken forcefully. Good to see you, he told Aaron, his mood lightening.

You made it back, he congratulated Erik. And early, too.

Erik glanced around in amazement, noting how what must have been a great deal of time and effort had transformed the dusty, cave like expanse into a living space. It was a large dormitory, tastefully divided into private sectors furnished with cots, easy chairs and tables. Hearing the echoes of children at play, he spotted a small group hovering along the back corner playing tag. Lifting a hand, he called to them and waved in greeting. They stopped momentarily, looked toward him and waved before resuming their game.

I see your whole family is here, he commented, turning to look into the older mans weathered face. And youve been very busy.

They are happy and excited to have a new home, he answered, sweeping his gaze over Erik in quick assessment. You, on the other hand, look worn out.

I am, thanks to our good inspectoris he here yet?

On his way, and bringing an important official with him, Aaron added, leaning closer and lowering his voice. One of us, I hear.

Erik lifted a brow in surprise. Us spies?

Aaron smiled. Us Jewsnamed Cremieuxapparently we have him to thank for all this.

Not the politician Ive heard so much about?

The very onehe wants to meet you and see if everything is ready for Monday night, or should I say Monday morning?

Looking away, Erik scanned his surroundings once again. Why so many cots? I was told there would only be a handful at a time.

Of refugees, yes, but to make this work right we have to include all the homelessit is only fair, I must agree.

Erik glanced back. All the homelessare you sure you have enough cots, then?

Aaron laughed loudly, earning a shout of protest from Inspector Leger as he entered from a side tunnel. Close by his side was the ever present Gilbert, followed by several policemen. At his other side was a distinguished looking man with an intelligent face.

Keep your voices down! Leger whispered harshly as he came up to them. We dont want to attract any undue attention.

The older man extended his hand to Erik, who slowly uncrossed his arms and took it. You must be our phantom, he said with a twinkle in his eyes. Mon. Destler, I presume?

Erik frowned but shook his hand. Arnon, he corrected. Giles Arnon.

Very good, the man smiled. Just call me Cremieuxmy real name.

Erik held his intense scrutiny, feeling his patience slip. He wanted to get on with this meeting and leave as soon as possible. He thought it better to say nothing in response, and the man gave him back his hand.

Leger cleared his throat and began. Once again, gentlemen, he emphasized, though he stared at Erik meaningfully. The plan is that you meet here, proceed to Notre Dame and arrive by 1:00 a.m. Monday. Daniel will meet you there, beneath the two statues

Synagogia and Ecclesia, Erik stated, thinking it fitting that such diverse sculptures should oversee their secret meeting. He remembered staring up at them in awe earlier that day, after awakening near noon from his first good rest in weeks. Hed spent the day wandering the city unmasked, astounded that the only reaction he earned was much unwelcome female attention. Now he stood with one hand smoothing the corrected side of his face, halfheartedly listening to the inspector.

Thats right, Leger answered Aaron. Wait until you are approached by Daniel and three men, all dressed as sailors. Escort them here along the route previously indicated. Daniel will change and you, Erik, will return with him to the temple. Come back alone by 9:00 on Tuesday night with your horsewait at the stables. You, Aaron, are to escort the men back up to meet him, and Erik will take them on to the parish. Stay over one night and return your horse to the temple stable. After that you both have a day off to rest.

Erik bowed slightly. Very generous, Inspector.

Legers face twisted with a sarcastic smile. Any questions? he replied, turning to Aaron, who only shrugged. Then this meeting is dismissed.

A moment of your time, Erik interrupted, taking him aside to hand him a slip of paper. I secured the required legal residence for my wife and myselfheres the address.

Leger took it from him and pocketed it. She can move there, but for the time being keep your distance at Daniels, understood?

Erik ground his jaw, noting Legers irritation as he walked away. No, I dont understand, he said to his back.

We do not wish to waste Mon. Cremieuxs time, Leger announced, turning to leave.

Might I count on you to protect her? Erik interrupted. As you so indicated?

Of courseoh, I nearly forgotwe have something for you, Leger stated, nodding to one of his men. He came forward and dropped a canvas sack onto the table before them.

Your mail, he explained, stepping back with an unreadable expression on his face. Erik thought he looked displeased, but concentrated on Gilberts assessing look as he handed him something else. This came for you earlier today.

Erik stared at it suspiciously, then took it and began to open it. Glancing up, he smiled cynically at Leger. May I?

Leger looked at the politician next to him. Of courseI trust we have shown Mon. Cremieux that everything is ready for the first intercept, including ourselves.

We are ready, Aaron answered for him, nodding toward Erik. Both of us.

Any questions? Cremieux asked, looking intently at Erik. When he said nothing, the man frowned. It is of vital importance that this trial work according to every detail planned. Is that clear?

Yes, Erik answered stiffly. Very clear.

Cremieux pointed to his telegram. Then go ahead and read itI will see you at our next rendezvous.

Erik stared at the back turned to him, his suspicions high. Though he had never met a politician before, he was not surprised at the mans behavior. Sharp and observant, the man revealed only two qualities out of many more Erik felt must be tested in order to trust the man.

Ill help you sort your mail, if you like, Aaron offered, his eyes on the departing group.

Frowning, Erik tore open the notice and quickly scanned it, his anger flaring. Shaking off Aarons restraining hand, he started after Leger, shouting at his back.

It says: Pray about a legal separation Erik announced, waving the telegram. Leger stopped and turned, glancing at Cremieux with a guilty expression.

That is most regrettable he said, looking sincere. Perhaps when our work is completed you might be

You have interfered with my marriage long enough, Erik warned, pain searing what was left of his heart. You have no legal right to do so, so dont try to stop me from being with her!

Turning on his heel, Erik left them gaping at him with differing expressions of shock, pity and admiration. Storming past Aaron, he slapped a hand on his shoulder to exclude him from his anger and headed toward a different exit. Several heads turned to follow his retreat as Leger apologized to Cremieux.

The politician held up his hand in protest. Let him see her, he advised Leger. Its been long enough.

Leger straightened to his full height. But Your Honor, you dont know her, he objected. Shes got a sharp mind and a will of her own

She would have to, to keep his attention, Cremieux chuckled. And Im afraid I must insist, Inspector. I hold marriage in the highest regard, so whatever he needs, give it to him.

Leger threw up his hands in uncharacteristic exasperation. What is it about him that earns him these special privileges, first from Judge Miller, and now from you?

Cremieux put a hand on his arm and leaned close. I think we all know the answer to that, he said tightly. Dont forget, he is risking his life for the good of Francewho knows how long he has left?

It was Legers turn to smile. You have no idea whom you are dealing with


c. 2006 by Christine Levitt

(edit: the original first section has been moved to end of this chapter, sorry).

Meg stared in disbelief across the gardens toward the phantoms shrine, watching the movements of a half dozen dark figures flitting busily among its treasures. The moon, though shrouded with clouds, lit the landscape enough for her to determine they were all women, well dressed women judging by their outer garments. And they were there to leave more trinkets of affection for her husband. In her mind they knelt and rose in a strange dance of worship, some placing new items upon the brocade fabrics and rugs left there, others checking what they had left from previous visits. Through a rising swell of jealousy and resentment her own weakness condemned her. She had run away instead of standing her ground to face the truth about him and Christine. And ever since then she had shifted back and forth in the ensuing weeks, torn with indecision. Too hurt to have anything more to do with him, she was also too much in love with him to live without him. Whenever she summoned the courage to go to him the police department frustrated her every effort, making it easy for her to give up. And she had to admit to some amount of relief at the prospect of avoiding the inevitable confrontation with him.

Im a coward, she whispered, watching the women honor him with their gifts. Im just like themwanting him to know how I feel, yet content to hide in the dark should he happen to even notice

But he did noticetoday.

The impression was soft, faint even, yet it came to her again, flitting like a shadow across her mind. Forcing her to face the truth. Pulling her out of her maelstrom of emotions. Causing the doubt, jealousy, anger, longing and guilt to fade away in light of the fact that Erik had come to the opera today. Forcing her to admit that Josephs appearance just hours before had not been a coincidence. It was a sign.

From the moment when he had first run to her in terror to the final look of happiness and pride in his eyes, Joseph had become part of the answer to her prayers. Weeks of praying for wisdom and patience had ended today, when Joseph had come to her auditions. But there was one slight problem: if what he said about Eriks being beaten was true, he had nevertheless lied to her about finding the note on the backstage floor. But why? And could she overlook the fact that however unexpectedly and for whatever reason, Erik had been here, and Joseph had seen him.

Then there was the dramatic change in Joseph. His mother had scolded him about making up things about bad men, but if Raouls men had beaten Erik he had obviously recovered, and Joseph had witnessed both. The change in Joseph and the joy shining in his face today indicated that he had discovered Erik was well. And he was using Joseph as his messenger to get to her.

Though it thrilled her and made her heart race, Megs mind warned her to beware. What about his cold messages sent by telegram? Why was he here when the police indicated he was not? Why was he breaking a condition of his probation by coming to the opera house? Too many questions were unanswered, and now there was Josephs accusation that Raoul had had him beaten. When Erik had left her alone at dinner, she had assumed it was to help Joseph, but what if he saw Christine and went after her? If he did not, why would Raoul be jealous in light of Christines apparent hatred for him? Or was she lying? Meg remembered their initial conversation in Brussels and the look on Christines face. She hadnt been lying about her anger and animosity toward Erik, unless she had become a very good actress.

Meg closed her eyes in confusion, her thoughts traveling back in time to another beating, not that long ago. She remembered how the Buquet brothers had beaten Erik, and how her presence and tender touch had affected him. Remembering, she became aware of the distant sound of horses approaching. She could see herself once again, running from these same tunnels to go after him. She saw him lean over and pull her up before him on Prince the night they left Paris. She felt his weight draped over her back as they rode. She remembered nursing him in his delirium at the parish. Opening her eyes, she considered how he would interpret her absence as he awoke to pain, lying beaten and alone in a place far from home. Not knowing about her meeting with Christine, he would have looked for her, but this time she had not been there for him. Still hearing the clatter of horses approaching, she saw one of the shrine women kneel and bow her head, obviously praying.

For what, to be with my husband?

Drawing herself up to her full height and more angry than she had ever been, Meg stepped onto the garden path. Pushing aside the gate, she marched quickly toward the shrine, yelling aloud at the women despite the late hour and the approaching horses.

Get away! Fools! she cried, raising her fist as she approached them. Momentarily halted in surprise, they suddenly burst into activity, catching up their belongings and scattering in different directions as she drew closer. Trespassers! Ill summon the police if you return! she threatened. This is Opera propertygo home and stay there!

A coach rounded the corner and drew near, pulling to a halt before her as she gasped in shock, backing up. Half turning to flee, she paused with the realization that there was something familiar about the vehicle. Her eyes darted to the crest emblazoned on its side at the same time the fleeing women disappeared into the shadows of the gardens. Staring in surprise, she watched the door swing open and Rosalies head pop out.

Get in, quick! she hissed in a whisper, looking nervously about as she gestured with her hand. Hurry!

Whats wrong? she whispered back, rushing up to the door. Is Jean all

Its not my husband, but yours! Rosalie hissed. Hurry, before were seen!

With one quick step up Meg ducked inside, amazed at how quickly they started off, speeding back down the alley. She gripped the handle to keep from being pitched to the floor, making her way to the heavily upholstered seat where she flounced down next to Rosalie.

Is he all right? she gasped, turning to face Rosalie. Where is he? How did you find him?

Rosalie shook her head and closed her eyes, pushing back into the cushions. I should have told you! she moaned. I should have said something long ago.

Meg stared at her a moment, her heart pounding in fear. What are you talking about? Is Erik all right? Tell me!

Rosalie surged forward, gripping her arms. Please forgive me, she pleaded. They said you were not to know anything, that I had to keep quiet or you would both be in even more danger

Who said to keep quiet? What danger?

There were threats on his life, you know

But hes all rightis that where were going?

Yes, God willing, but please Margueriteyou must forgive me!

Forgive you for what? Where are we going?

Rosalies eyes widened. I just came from the temple, where I spend every Saturday night helping close up. I was on my way out and who did I see but your Erik!

In the temple? Is he all right?

Rosalie bit her lower lip. Well enough, at least on the outside.

Feeling more frustrated than before, Meg forced herself to take a deep breath. Having known Rosalie since she was a little girl, she recognized her dramatic behavior as an exaggeration. She took Rosalies hand and leaned close.

What do you mean at least on the outsideno first tell me why we are assuming we can just go back and see him? Will he even still be there? The police have probably whisked him away by now, and they have spies everywhere

But hes the spy! Rosalie gasped. This isnt police businesswhy would they want him anywhere near a temple especially this late at night? No, something else is going on, something even they dont know abouthe and Rabbi Daniel were acting like spies

Meg shook her head in confusion. Rabbi Daniel?

Our new rabbibut Im not so sure hes completely honest about his activities! You know we suspected something was amiss when he started disappearing for days at a time, and tonight I found him lingering in the sanctuary. Then lo and behold who sneaks in but your Erik? I hid in the closet in the hall and overheard them talking about some kind of secret mission!

Meg rubbed her temples, feeling a migraine beginning to come on. If youre thinking of interrupting whatever they are up to, its uselessErik is never in one place long enough to find out.

Unfortunately, that is not entirely true, Rosalie replied with a guilty frown.

Meg stared at her a moment, suddenly seeing the scattered pieces of a puzzle come together in her mind. Strangely enough, she began, releasing Rosalies hand to sit back. Just today I heard something about Erik being injured in Brussels, apparently the night I left with you on the train, she said carefully. And by the way, neither Maman nor I have seen any trace of you or Jean all this timewhy are you asking for my forgiveness?

Cherie, you know Ive never done anything like this before! It was only supposed to be a secret for a few days, but they keep saying your safety is of utmost importance, as is Eriks

If Erik was beaten up then hes not safe! Meg protested, seeing Rosalies distress heighten. You know I love you and Jean dearly and will forgive whatever you were forced to do, she said. But if you are taking me anywhere near Erik you had better tell me everything, and quickly!

Rosalie swallowed and nodded. All right, but only because you guessed correctly, and because of what I sensed tonight, listening to his voice

What was that?

He needs you, petitenow more than ever.


Erik touched the dusty keys of the upright piano, his eyes fixed on the faded wallpaper before him without really seeing it. The room though large and sparsely furnished was warm, comfortably heated by a coal furnace that kept away dampness and mold. Upon his return he had shared a simple meal and some Scriptures with Daniel, who then led him here to the place of refuge. After going over the signal system and walking part of the way into the underground system, they were too tired to complete the tour. Daniel had indicted it ended beneath the stables where he kept Prince, and once again offered Erik the opportunity to bring Meg here, if necessary. With a final request to have him check the piano, Daniel bid him good night and left for his parents home.

Erik lowered his head and sighed deeply, feeling the vacuum of loneliness press in around him. It was not unlike the claustrophobia hed endured in the narrow passage behind the opera house walls just to steal a glimpse at his wife. And ever since he had, he could not get the sight of her out of his mind. Though he was angry and hurt by her disregard, it had taken all his strength to remain hidden and apart from her, so completely bound was he to her. He had not expected it to happen so soon, becoming truly one with her, though Pieter had counseled them so, using many biblical references that had somehow remained imprinted in Eriks mind.

...a man shall cleave to his wife, and they two shall be one flesh, he whispered, raising his head with closed eyes. so then they are no more two, but one flesh. What therefore God hath joined together, let not man put asunder1

Those final words hung suspended before him, offering him a higher authority to obey than Legers or even Raouls. They even encouraged him to justify his behavior to Daniel, who surprisingly had not argued with him. They explained his venture into the opera house today, and they supported his other plans. Still, he had to be very careful in order to test her will. He had never been a patient man, nor a selfless one. But he had been offered the opportunity and the ability to change, constrained by a will much stronger will than his own. With great effort he resisted the tide of despair and self pity that threatened to pull him under and focused on his next move: he had promised to check the piano for Daniel.

Spreading his fingers into position, Erik touched the appropriate keys of the opening chords of his favorite concerto, pressing them down only halfway. His mind had already begun to play the stanzas, but he was suddenly struck by a sudden distaste for what had once given him such pleasure. As the ghost of the concerto flitted through the chambers of his memory, he felt strangely detached from it. As if it no longer moved him, but left him feeling empty and unsatisfied. He lifted his hands again, unsure of what to play but strangely compelled to do so. And suddenly, it had nothing to do with checking the instrument for Daniel.

Straightening his back, he noticed the pile of sheet music spread over the top of the piano. Reaching slowly toward the pages, he sifted cautiously through them, stopping when he saw the liturgy music. He studied the notes on the first page, lifting it to place it against the stand. His eyes traveled carefully along its path, outlining the tune in his mind. It was similar to that which he had heard the first night hed come here. Below the melody line there were words handwritten in what must be the Hebrew language. Going back to the music, he repositioned his hands and began to play what he read, grateful for the gift of sight reading which had always made keyboard music easy for him.

The perfect tuning of the instrument surprised him, and he stopped to stare down at his fingers. Testing himself as well as the piano, he played the first few pages, immersing himself gratefully in the sadly beautiful music. When he came to its end he placed his hands upon his thighs and sat staring at the music, comparing the minor tones to a more recent experience. Where had he heard this music before? Tentatively touching a complex chord with each hand, he experimented with the sounds, finding them discordant yet strangely alluring. He closed his eyes and was immediately transported to his vision, and the connection was made. He opened his eyes and stared at the liturgical music. Ancient in sound, it fitted perfectly to the heavenly music hed heard while lying unaware in his delirium. He began to play yet again, struggling to mesh the two and reproduce the sounds that continued to haunt his dreams.

The chords were complicated, constructed with multiple tones, discordant but captivating. He could hear the two forms of music in his mind, but it was difficult to place them together. They needed to be orchestrated, he thought, rising to open the bench and finding a pencil and paper inside, along with countless other sheets of music. Seating himself again, he began to scratch out several lines of melody, his mind filling with the sounds as he yielded to them. His spirits lifted and he laughed when he remembered his commission, tears filling his eyes. Looking up toward the ceiling, he prayed and rejoiced at the same time.

Give me more, he asked, closing his eyes in gratitude. Give me your music, as you promiseand help me to find its expression.

Something constricted within his chest, and a tangible warmth began to burn there. There was a sensation of warm oil spreading throughout him, heating him and burning him. He lifted the toes of his boots from the pedals and laid a hand over his heart, suddenly finding it hard to breathe. A sweet presence surrounded him, tangible like a fragrance and warm like the oil. To his surprise he began to weep, his chest tightening with emotion. Gripping the frame of the p piano, he resisted the urge laid upon him to pray for his wife. Shaking his head, he groaned at the reminder of his separation from her.

Dont make me face it, he moaned in pain, feeling deep sobs being wrenched from his throat. Please

I am the LORD, your healer

He cried to be spared his pain, his voice hoarse with emotion. I cannot bear it he whispered.

I hold you in my right hand

I have tried to accept my loneliness, he gasped, shaking his head.

Come to me, and I will give you rest

Lifting his head, he released the final resources of his anger and frustration. Why did you give her to me! he sobbed, looking heavenward. Why, if only to take her away!

Though his fists pounded onto the keys, the crashing chords only echoed harmless off the insulated walls, scolding him for his anger. He laid his arms along the music stand, scattering the printed sheets, lowering his forehead to his arms as his sobs were wrenched from him. Left wrung out, he felt all emotion sink into an abyss of peace, deep within him. Then he heard the voice once again, more quiet this time, more centered in his being.

You have not lost her.

He stared at the wood of the upright piano. After a moment he moistened his lips and tried to speak.

But I cannot get near her.

I will make a way

Erik nodded. All righttell me what to do.


Rosalie turned to look at Megs distraught face, slowly lowering her hand from the knocker. They must have left.

Turning away, Meg started back toward the carriage. I told you he wouldnt be in one place for long.

Signaling to her footman, Rosalie climbed back in and they started on their way back. Still feeling guilty, she settled herself across from Meg, silently studying her face. Say something, she finally breathed.

Keeping her on the moonlight bathed streets, she noticed the modestly elegant townhouses lining the street. Why had Erik come here? Was it on Legers orders, or as Rosalie suspected, was he up to something else?

Please say something.

She looked back at the woman across from her. What do you want me to say?

That you understand? Rosalie offered hopefully. That you forgive me?

Meg leaned a bit forward. I do forgive youbut I dont understand how you could have gone back to Brussels to see him without me knowing about it.

It wasnt easy, Rosalie answered, with you and your mother calling every day to check on us.

And why would Leger allow you to see him and not me, his wife?

I wasnt in any danger, nor would my presence arouse any suspicion like yours would. As part of my job as a surgeons wife, Im accustomed to visiting Jeans patients.

Meg felt her eyes flood with tears, her irritation with both Erik and Leger falling away. She almost wished she had found Erik tonight, if only to discover what he thought of her now. Did the coldness in his messages come from the fact that she had not visited him? At Rosalies silence, she finally voiced her worst fears.

What must he have thought of me, to awaken alone and find me gone? she choked.

Rosalie shook her head. He knew they hid his condition from youhe was under the same compulsion as you were! Dont forget that when you are tempted to blame him for not coming after you

I dont blame him for not coming after me

Oh yes, you do! Rosalie insisted, leaning toward her. She reached for her hand and squeezed it affectionately. You and I are so much alikeboth romantics! We want our men to scale mountains and break down walls to come for us to prove their love! Unfortunately its only that way in fairy tales.

Meg began to wilt beneath Rosalies scrutiny. Youre rightI did want him to come after me, and Ive been angry ever since because he hasnt, she admitted with a tired sigh.

Could it be he might feel the same way?

Meg stared at her in amazement. But you just said he knew I wasnt allowed to

That wouldnt stop him from wanting you to trydont forget, love, you ran away from him.

I was upsetit doesnt help matters that we all had to watch him pursue Christine, and she wasnt even his wife!

Rosalie sat back, clearly beginning to feel irritated. Do you honestly expect him to treat you as he did Christine? How can he, and why would he, since she rejected him? Think long and hard if that is what you really want.

He loved her, and that was how he expressed it!

But look what trouble ensued! Wouldnt you rather he learn from that experience and adjust himself accordingly?

I dont know what I would rather anything! I dont even know what I want anymore!

Then dont expect him to know!

Assume nothing Meg frowned, remembering the joke she and Erik had tossed back and forth when they were at the parish. She looked at Rosalie, letting her see how confused and dejected she felt.

May I offer you some advice, from one married woman to another? Rosalie said, holding up a hand at Megs protest. No, you are married woman, at least in name and for the present moment, as far as we know.

Assuming he is not in the process of divorcing me

Rosalie nodded. He did sound pretty dejected tonight, but that could be a good sign; it means he cannot live without you and he will be miserable until you are reconciled!

Meg had to laugh as she shook her head. I think the real romantic is sitting right here with me in this coachplease, go ahead! Give me your advice!

Go after himthrow yourself at him and tell him that you love him! Rosalie said gaily. You do still love him, dont you?

Meg sighed, nodding her head. With all my heartbut how do I find him, and what about the rules

Forget the rules, your marriage is at stake! Now give me a bit of time and Ill see what I can do to help.



With a trained eye Leger studied Raoul de Chagny as if seeing him for the first time. As he spoke quietly to his young wife Christine, his eyes avoided everyone else in the room. Judging by the way his fingers nervously tapped the arm of his chair, it was clear that he had something to hide. Probably more than previously suspected, Leger guessed, and he intended to find out what.

There was a disruption in the theatre yesterday, he announced without prelude, noting the pause in their muted conversation. Christine looked up, her eyes shooting to his.

Raoul finally gave him his attention. Really? he chuckled cynically. I thought that your men were supposed to be handling security, instead of tracking every move my staff and I make.

Pinning him with a pointed stare, Leger leaned forward. Your staff would be sitting in my jail if their most recent victim would only file charges. In the prolonged silence, Leger added a knowing grin.

He wouldnt dare, Christine whispered, shifting her attention to an imaginary spot on her glove. She picked at the cuff, her lips tightening with suppressed objections.

That seems to be the case, at least for now, Leger replied, throwing Gilbert a knowing look. He nodded to the clerk by his detectives side, who was busy scribbling notes of their conversation.

As I said earlier, I had to do what was necessary to protect my wife, Raoul repeated in a bored tone.

Leger turned his attention back to Christine. Did you feel as if your safety was threatened, Countess?

She looked up, her expression like that of an animal caught in the sights of a rifle. My safety? she repeated, eyes nervously darting to her husband and back. I must admit that being on stage always carries some element of risk.

But the victim was attacked before any scheduled performance, and in the mens lavatory, he pressed her.

Looking exceedingly uncomfortable, Christine held his gaze. In light of past experience, however, one could assume my safety might be compromised.

Raoul smiled as he reached blindly for her hand. Really, Inspector, isnt this matter irrelevant since he has not pressed charges?

He may not have, Leger said, tapping the document on his desk with one finger. But our witness has.

Laughing, Raoul glanced to the clock. We havent the time to play guessing games, Inspector. Perhaps you should just tell us why youve hauled us in here, away from our Sunday brunch.

All right, I will, he answered, pushing back his chair to get up. He came around his desk and sat back on the edge to address the request. When you assaulted Mon. Destler in the mens lavatory in Brussels, there was someone present watching every gory detail. This witness has now come forward and positively identified your two staff members, indicting them and you as the perpetrators of this assault.

That is ridiculous! Raoul huffed in laughter. Heresay!

Christine pulled her eyes from her husbands profile, shock registering in her eyes. Was it that boy at the auditions? she asked, ignoring her husbands warning look. I heard about it, and the fact that he is quite young.

Leger shrugged. Why dont you tell me everything, in your own words, Countess, beginning

Leave her out of this! Raoul ordered, taking up his derby and gloves in one hand. In fact, you may speak to my lawyer tomorrow, on a regular business day

Any day is a day for police business, Leger warned. What I must insist upon is you telling me exactly what your business is concerning Mon. Destler.

We have no business with him, and prefer it that way! Raoul retorted. I think thats been quite obvious all this time.

Leger crossed his arms over his chest. I have a witness to the beating you ordered and watched, as well as several sworn statements to the contrary, graciously shared by Brussels Police. Then there is the matter of misrepresenting yourselves and abusing public telegraph communications

What? Christine gasped, looking at her husband. Raoul, you said

Raoul waved a hand in dismissal. Why would either of us waste our time

the latter of which constitutes libel, Leger concluded with a nod toward Raouls hat and gloves. Set your things aside, Countweve only begun to address your list of suspicious activity.

Raoul shifted to the edge of his chair. Speak to my lawyer tomorrow, he suggested.

Why dont we bring him in today, Leger said, nodding to Gilbert. Im sure you will pay his fee

As Gilbert turned and left Christine shot to her feet. Never mind! she objected, facing her husband. Im not going to do this anymore, Raoul

Christi he soothed, reaching up toward her. When she batted his hand away he slid back in his chair, looking away.

Lifting her chin, she met Legers gaze. You win, InspectorIll tell you everything that I know.

After a moment he nodded, going back around his desk to sit.

Im through living like this, she stated, glancing toward Raoul as he put a hand to his brow. Hes right, Raoul, and he has proof. We did all we could to protect ourselves, but having him beatenand now a young boy is involved
things have gotten out of control, and they need to stop.

Raoul looked up. Arent you forgetting the premiere on Friday? he warned. Do you think he will miss that, when its the perfect chance to get back at us?

Hes not going to get back at us! she argued. Why cant you see that?

All I can see is that as long as he is anywhere near you, the possibility exists!

I think you need to consider the present situation, Leger suggested. Mon. Destler has clearly had a change of heart and hes no fool. He effectively turned himself, put himself in danger to help us arrest two criminals, and has since done nothing to violate a difficult probation. Did he not also compensate you financially, quite generously?

Christines expression faltered before she looked away. That was a wedding gift.

Which your husband deposited in a hidden account, Leger said, noting the accusatory glare she directed toward her husband. Raoul looked up in surprise. We traced it some time ago, he continued. In fact, after monitoring all your affairs including your manipulation of his royalties, we cannot help but wonder what more can the man do, beyond what he has already done?

He can leave us alone! Raoul objected even as Christine advanced upon him, hands on her hips.

Your jealousy is unfounded, Raoul, she warned. He and I broke all ties the night of the fire, and you were there to witness everything!

Christi, the man has had a hold on you since you were a child

We have moved on from that point, she insisted. Hes changed, cant you accept that? Hes married to Meg now, and her mother insists he is committed to making it work, no thanks to our interference!

Raoul glanced at Leger. We did it for them, toofor Meg and Mme. Giry, he explained, turning to Christine. Dont forget, you said you wanted to keep your best friend from staying married to him, for her own good!

Christine put a hand to her forehead, closing her eyes momentarily. We did what we could, but its no use: I think we should focus on our own lives now, she suggested, looking beseechingly at Leger. If that is even possible.

Leger held her gaze a moment, uncrossing his arm to grip the edge of his des. He looked pointedly at Raoul. If I were you I would listen to her, he said quietly.

Frowning, Raoul got up and began to pace, pausing to stare accusingly at the clerk. When he was given a blank stare he moved on and stopped, turning with a hand framing his chin. If I admit to a part in all this, he began, continuing to slowly pace the room, taking full responsibility for the matter in Brussels and discharging the services of my hired men, can I count on you to see to our protection, especially on opening night?

Leger nodded. Of course, but you must cooperate with whatever plans are implemented and stop harassing Mon. Destler and his wife. If you do not, they have each been advised to file a restraining order against you or whatever agents you may have employed to disrupt their lives.

Raoul shifted his gaze to Christine, noting her pleading expression, then back. All right, he agreed. I will do as you ask.

Good, Leger quipped. And you must transfer all Opera business to the managers and their agents, at least until your legal matters are settled.

All right, but I am on their board, Raoul added proudly.

A position which will be on temporary hold, Leger insisted, going back around his desk to seat himself. He pulled a few papers from his file and looked up, gesturing for them both to sit. For now, Count, concentrate on assuming only the role of Don Juan, he suggested blandly, noting Raouls reluctant nod of approval and the way his wife reached for his hand. It will be no easy task, but you should know that the City has contracted the services of the military for the premiere and opening week, and our department will continue working closely with Opera security.

That does set my mind at ease, Raoul sighed, holding Christines hand. She smiled nervously, glancing back toward Leger.

I should warn you, though, that Mon. Destler will be making a brief appearance on Friday, at intermission.

What? Raoul shouted, leaning forward in his chair. Why would you allow such a thing, after all weve just discussed?

But he wouldnt, Christine gasped, her expression a mixture of fear and guilt.

Leger shifted his attention between them. We have our reasons

This is insane! Raoul gasped, running a hand through his hair. Youve all gone mad!

He couldnt have agreed to that, she choked in disbelief.

It was made a condition of his probation, at Judge Millers request, Leger explained. He must.

But that will throw everything into chaos! she objected. The city will be in an uproar!

There will be an uproar if he doesnt appear! Leger challenged. Surely you realize that once you unmasked him in public may you may have succeeded in disgracing him enough to leave, but you also succeeded in creating strong public empathy for him and an outcry for his return.

And the police are going to give the public what they want? Raoul sneered. That is ridiculous!

Leger sighed in frustration. If you reopen the Opera with Don Juan, his creation which by the way was an immediate success and made the public hungry for more, you are going to have to give them the phantom. I assume youve been reading the papers all this time, so it should not come as a surprise.

The papers dont represent the entire city, Raoul hedged.

They have accurately discovered the majority of public opinionI can assure you that you will not get far into Don Juan before the public will demand his appearance. In fact, his need for protection far exceeds yours.

We did this to him, Christine said dazedly. We drew him out, forced him to be Don Juan, she told Raoul. The inspector is righttheyll never let you replace him, now that theyve heard him, and seen him.

Will they even know Im not him, with the mask? Raoul objected. Ive worked hard training my voice to sing the part.

Christine looked away. Theyll know.

Looking insulted, Raoul gripped the arms of his chair. He might change his mind and refuse, not show up, especially if it will put him in even more danger. Why dont we just assume the performance will satisfy the public

Leger shook his head. He cannot refusehes as bound to it as we all are.

But what will he do, if he makes an appearance? Christine ventured. And how will we know what to do?

Leger frowned. So far he has withheld that informationIve offered some suggestions, but Im afraid that we are all going to have to trust him to do the right thing and respond accordingly

Trust him? Raoul complained. But this is no joking matter, Inspector!

I am being completely serious, Leger insisted. He obviously has enough charisma to attract the publics interest and loyaltylets just hope he has the wisdom and ability to set things back into proper order.

The master performer, Christine whispered, nodding imperceptibly to Leger. She reached a hand toward her husband. Raoul, we should do exactly as the Inspector asks, and trust him for a change.


c. 2007 by Christine Levitt

They neared the tunnel entrance, hearing Aaron and Saul arguing in heated whispers. Slowing his pace, Erik threw her a downward glance, nodding to her to precede him. Moving from his side to cut in front of him, she felt the jab of the dagger sheath along her ankle. When he had first grabbed her and carried her into the alley, it had dug painfully into her shin, completely out of reach. After discovering who he was, neither had she the opportunity to slip it elsewhere nor the desire to risk him seeing her do so. If he knew she carried a weapon he would have further proof of her rash and foolish behavior and get angry all over again. And she could not risk losing what little ground they had gained with that kiss.

On their walk back to the tunnels shed studied his dark profile, concluding that despite their anger and misunderstandings he still felt something for her. Though he had only kissed her to provide that gang with an excuse for their hiding in the alley, his hunger and possessiveness had been unmistakable. She knew he had done it only to protect her, but once he kissed her their passion had been reawakened. And, in her mind, if that was all they had left to rebuild their marriage, then so be it. Now, as they walked up to Aaron and Saul, she made it point to stand closely by her husband and try to make the best of a bad situation.

Aaron turned from his nephew and clamped a hand onto Eriks arm, nodding to her in greeting. His keen gaze swept over them, judging them unharmed. Thank God youre both all right, he whispered in obvious relief. What took you so long?

Erik glanced down at her and tensed. We had a few delays, he answered, turning his attention toward Saul, who was slumped against the tunnel wall. He all right? he asked Aaron.

All I got was a black eye, Saul defended himself. And I didnt mean any harm

Aaron pointed a finger at his nephew. Apologize, he demanded.

Saul straightened and looked up at Erik. Im sorry I followed youit wont happen again.

Erik nodded, glancing at Meg. She took a step toward Saul.

And? Aaron interrupted.

I didnt mean to put your wife in danger

The nerve in Eriks cheek jumped. I sure you didnt, he answered, throwing her a meaningful glare.

Ignoring him, Meg laid a hand on Sauls arm. He would have gone anyway, she stated.

He told me you tried to dissuade him, Aaron admitted. Hes only a boy, but I know--"

Im practically an adult, Saul protested. And I want to help!

Well for the next month you will, but only on these premises! Aaron ordered. You are to confine yourself only to this block and go no further, understand?

Saul frowned. Youre not my father, so you havent the right

As your guardian I have every right; now get to bed before your aunt Esther comes back all worried.

Saul sighed in frustration but left without further comment. They watched until he disappeared around the bend in the tunnel, looking at each other in silence. Erik raised a hand to the back of his neck, studying Aarons lined expression.

Well done, he breathed. You handled that masterfully.

Aaron looked up, taking a moment to evaluate his meaning. I thought so, he joked back, shaking his head in frustration. What am I going to do with him?

You might think about training him, Erik replied, surprising them both. From what Ive heard, he seems to be a natural, he continued. And he was able to keep my wife safe despite the rioting.

Aaron turned to Meg. What do you thinkyou were with him.

Astounded that they would even consider her opinion, she nodded. I agree, although I know very little about the work you doSaul knew the exact moment when to move and when to stay in hiding, and how to deal with danger. He seems very capable, despite his age.

Erik was watching her carefully, but she sensed his approval of her evaluation.

Ill think on it, Aaron answered, rubbing a hand down his face. Whewwhat a night.

I assume the others made it back safely, Erik asked.

Aaron nodded. Daniel got back before we didhe was waiting here for us, with the older one.

Erik looked out toward the oak trees. The two rabbis, he sighed. Im sure they had a lot to discuss.

Meg looked at them questioningly, but neither elaborated for her benefit.

Esther took them all down to get settled, he told Erik. We were all pretty nervous about your delay."

Meg felt the weight of Eriks stare and the slow simmer of his anger, but was grateful he said nothing to Aaron about their encounter. She doubted Aaron was even aware of how angry he was, he was so expert in hiding his feelings. Yet, with an inward smile of satisfaction, she knew he could never fool her.

Did Saul mention how he got away from the gang? she asked Aaron, hoping to distract Erik from thinking about her involvement.

He outwitted them, which doesnt surprise me, Aaron answered. But when I smelled the liquor on his breath

If he had refused their offer of a drink, it might have been even worse, she shuddered, remembering the leaders face.

Shes right, Erik concurred, his attention on Aaron.

Ill consider what youve told me, Aaron sighed, looking from Erik to Meg. Make sure he changes into some dry clothes.

Meg looked away to hide her embarrassment.

And get some rest, both of you, he added, turning away.

That would seem the natural conclusion to their evening, she thought, realizing that Aaron knew nothing of their estrangement.

Daniel was supposed to return with me, Erik interrupted. Did he change his mind?

Oh, right, he did, Aaron said, planting a hand on his forehead. He said he wanted to stay here tonight, and that he would see you tomorrow night.

Erik nodded. All right, he said, glancing toward the stables.

You look like youre about to collapse, Aaron warned. Ill say my goodnights."

Watching him walk away, they answered together. Good night

When they were alone Erik sighed and put a hand on his hip. She glanced up the height of the moon, judging it close to 3 a.m. Well, she breathed, turning toward the gardems. Ill say goodnight

He caught her arm. Were not finished, he said quietly, his eyes holding hers. She let him guide her toward the storeroom and waited while he opened the door. Dropping his hand away, he stood aside. After you.

Acting as if they were coming home together after a night out, Meg walked into the room as calmly as she could manage. Thankfully someone had left the lantern burning, and she went to the chair where earlier she had left her clothing. Though the room was pleasantly warm, she could feel the heat of Eriks gaze burning into her back as soon as he closed the door. She pulled off the borrowed jacket and hung it along the back of the chair. Then she took off the cap and finger combed her hair, eyeing the changing screen as she slowly unbuttoned the waistcoat. Finally, unable to stand his silence, she turned toward him, her gaze riveted to his hands.

His fingers paused in the middle of unfastening his belt, and she stared at them, remembering how he had touched her in the alley. Feeling a blush creep up her neck, she slowly lifted her eyes to his, swallowing her gasp of shock.

The glow of the lantern completely illuminated his face, and whereas she had always thought him attractive he now was even more so. Where once the right side of his face had been severely marred she now saw a perfectly crafted nose and cheek. Even the dark shadow of his beard was visible, matching the other side. The bone structure surrounding his eye had been evened out, and his once misaligned orb now stared at her as levelly as its mate, weighting her reaction. Struggling to accept these changes, she felt overwhelmed with emotion. When tears flooded her eyes she broke contact with his intense gaze, tracing her eyes along the strong column of his neck down to and across his bare chest. He was even more muscular than she had remembered, and his skin was tanned. In the lamplight it glowed with moisture from his wet clothing, begging for her touch. Snapping her eyes back up, she caught the tiny smile that didnt quite reach his eyes as he slid his belt free.

You have seen this before, he said softly, challenging her.

She swallowed, her eyes darting from his to the fascinating sculpture of his chest and torso. What is he doing?

NoI havent, she choked in a whisper, staring back into the green depths of his eyes. Wasnt he still angry with her? Why was he teasing her?

She watched him slowly pull the belt from his waistband, lifting questioning eyes back to his all knowing stare.

If it makes you uncomfortable he whispered, his brows upturned.

Lifting her chin, she smiled serenely. No, of course not, she said thickly, turning to reach for her dress and chemise. She moved toward the dressing screen, knowing her face was colored with embarrassment and desire. Stepping behind it, she changed as quickly as possible, hearing no sound beyond it until she was finishing fastening her bodice.

Tell me about this letter of yours, he said calmly.

How did he know she was nearly finished dressing, she wondered. Could he see through the screen? Picking up the borrowed clothing, she stepped around the screen, draping it over the top of the frame. Relieved to see that he was dressed in workmans clothing, she approached him and stopped within arms length to look up at him.

You believe me? she asked, her tone expressing her wonder.

His eyes finished their slow, lingering journey over her features. Yessomehow, I do.

Why now?

Because of the way you are looking at me.

The tension between them was palpable, but she forced herself to reach for his hand, not knowing how he would react. Slowly winding her fingers through his, she was encouraged by the warm strength of his grip.

I made the same foolish mistake I made once before, she told him softly, holding his eyes. When I ran away from Maman

His expression twisted with emotion, and in his eyes she saw a swirl of hurt, regret and a trace of understanding. She swallowed, unable to look away. She sensed he understood her reference to the fight with her mother and how she had run away, only to be attacked in the alley and rescued by him.

Only now, she shuddered, gripping his hand. I know the consequences are far more serious.

His eyes narrowed. But no one has attacked you

No, she breathed, but no one has rescued me either.

She knew he understood that she meant him, but he said nothing.

Yet now I know that it is up to me to rescue myself, she confessed, studying his expression. And me, it seemed to say.

Slowly withdrawing her hand from his, she began to pace before him, searching for a place to start. She was aware of him seating himself in the upholstered chair, and that he was waiting for her to explain herself.

After you left the dining room with Joseph that night, I found out about the masquerade ball, she began, stopping to glance down at him. That it was to announce the Brussels premiere of Don Juan.

He continued to watch her carefully, his expression unreadable. Go on, he said soberly.

I was afraid you would find out by encountering someone from the touring companyin particular, Christine.

He looked away, his lips tensing. Suddenly eager to tell him everything, she resumed her slow pacing. Instead, it was I who ran into Christine, she told him. At first she was happy to see me, and when she saw my wedding ring she insisted on knowing whom Id married, thinking it would be a mutual acquaintance. When I told her your name, she became hysterical and angry, as if I had somehow betrayed her by marrying you.

Erik looked up, into her eyes. She stopped, facing him with her fingers twisting nervously together. His eyes dropped to focus on them. She began to tell me all about your relationship, she continued, her voice hoarse. I protested, but despite this she shared every detail, especially concerning the passionate kisses you exchanged in Raouls presence. At that point she turned away and took a deep breath. I must admit I was angry and jealous, at both of you.

When there was no response she stole a glance at him, finding his head downcast, one hand lifted to his brow. And he did not look up. She stared at the thick wave of his hair, admiring its rich light brown color in the golden light.

The worst part was when she told me about the wedding ring, she said, staring at him and wishing he would look at her. I felt betrayed, foolish and suspicious. I wondered why you had proposed to her but made me be the one to do it laterthen I wondered why you never told me what you shared. I wondered what else you might be keeping from me.

Willing him to look up, she continued. I ran away to put as much distance between myself and Christine as possible, and between usI had to think, Erik, and I wanted you to tell me everything I needed to know. But I did write you a letterI even begged Josephs father to put it in your bag for meI fully expected you to read it and understandand that you would come for me.

His hand fell as he looked up at her. But I stopped runningwhy did you start?

His quiet response knifed through her as she squeezed her eyes shut. Ive never been brave, she confessed. And I was afraid you still had feelings for her.

She heard the chair scrape the floor as he got up and came to her, gripping her arms. The pain and anger in his expression further convicted her.

How could you even think that? he demanded in a harsh whisper, after all we have shared?

But I tried to tell you that I loved you, and you wouldnt let me, she choked, looking away. And you never said it yourself

I said it with every kiss, he stated, shaking her gently until she looked back at him. I said it with every look and every touch! I, too, expected you to read me and understand!

But if you could not say the words

I was not able to!

Because you still loved her! she accused, tears spilling from her eyes.

No! he protested, pulling away from her grip. Because I feared your rejection even more than hers!

You werent afraid to challenge Raoul for Christine, even in public! What was so frightening about me?

We were made for each other, and when we became one he closed his eyes, shaking his head. Your rejection cut far deeper because of it.

It was not rejectionread my letter againwell read it together, she pleaded. "You probably have that bag right here!"

He shook his head. I cannot.

Of course you can

He waved a hand of dismissal. I threw the bag away.

But you take that bag with you everywhere

I threw it over a cliff in a fit of rage!

She drew back, staring at him. At me? she squeaked.

Yes, at you! he admitted. And at God and the entire world!

You were angry at God? she croaked, feeling a sinking sensation in the pit of her stomach.

Of course I wasafter all, it was He who put us together!

But you wouldnt turn your back on

Picture this, he said, gripping her arm. I awoke in hospital to find my face had been crushed, painfully repaired and that my wife of less than one week had abandoned me

I didnt abandon you, and I was your wife longer than that!

Only in name, if you recall, he breathed, turning away in an attempt to calm himself. She watched him reach up and massage the back of his neck.

Erik, she said quietly, going to his side. Had I any idea that you had been hurt

Even Rosalie came to visit me

She hid it from me until just the other night, so did Jean and everyone else! she protested. I had no idea until Joseph blurted it out, aside from the fact that you could have told me!

He dropped his head, avoiding looking at her. I assumed you no longer cared.

She touched the back of his shoulder. You broke my heart, Erik, she choked.

He tensed. You broke mine, he whispered in confession.

Touching her forehead to his back, she slowly shook her head. You said you didnt have one.

I was mistaken.

Lifting her head, she tentatively caressed his shirt with her fingertips. You did give me a piece of your mind, she reminded him, hoping he would remember their encounter in her room at the parish.

He straightened, turning to glance back at her. There wasnt much of it to give.

I didnt matter to meI treasured the tiniest bit.

It might have been the last bit.

Well, she breathed, going around to his side to look up at him. You cannot have it back.

His eyes searched her features. Did I ask for anything back? he whispered.

No, she answered, holding his gaze. You didnt.

Incidentally, that ring was given to Christine years ago, with no answer or promise," he informed her. "In fact I had forgotten about it, hence my failure to mention it to you.

Erik

No, let me explain. Whatever Christine and I shared, it was not realand it ended even before the night of the fire.

I know that now.

As for any telegrams you believe I sentI can assure you I did not. There were only handwritten notes, all of which you apparently did not receive, for whatever reason, except the one Joseph handed you.

I never sent you anything, she told him. I wanted us to speak face to face...do you believe me?

His eyes bored into hers until it seemed he was satisfied. Based upon the last few minutes, I am convinced of it, as well as the fact that someone is playing such games, and I think I have a good idea whom.

So do I, she sighed tiredly, touching his arm. "Well, there, we have finally got everything out into the open."

He nodded, running a hand through his hair.

"I hope you will find it in your heart to forgive me," she asked him softly.

"If you will forgive me," he asked, watching her closely.

She nodded back, glancing down at his wet clothing heaped upon the barrel top.

Its very latewe should go, he said, picking up the jacket and hanging it over the barrel.

She hung his shirt on a hook as he draped his others things out to dry, finally extinguishing the lantern. Joining her at the door, he walked her to the path that led to the stables, where she turned to face him.

Will you be riding Prince home? she asked, wondering if home was his quarters over the synagogue, or the address on her dinner invitation. Could she dare ask him to stay, and would it be allowed?

He nodded. After I make sure you get in safely.

They passed along the edge of the garden and mounted the stairs to the side entrance. A dark form stirred under cover of the roof and Erik curled an arm around her shoulders, pulling her up against his side.

Whos there? he demanded as she clung to him without fear, loving the solid feel of his body.

Pourier, the man answered gruffly. Mme. Destler, he said in acknowledgment of her presence.

She looked up at Eriks downward glance. Its all right, Detective Gilbert assigned himMon. Pourier, this is my husband, Erik Destler.

He pulled open the door for them, moving into the moonlight where they could better see him. Youve been cleared, sir, he explained, nodding toward the gallery.

Cleared?

Yes sirorders are to make sure no one prevents you from spending your time together.

Erik looked at him suspiciously. That has never been the case before, he accused.

Pourier bowed his head in acknowledgement. Our apologies, sir.

Meg stepped away from him, tugging his hand toward the steps. They entered but Erik paused to look at the guard. Orders from whom?

The Inspector, and higher, if you know what I mean.

Meg stepped closer to him, holding his arm. I see, he answered quietly.

Is this just for tonight? she asked.

Not at all, Madamefrom now until premiere night, that is.

Erik nodded. I understand; thank you Pourier.

Good night then, he answered, obviously eager to be back to his watch. He scanned the perimeter of the gardens with nervous anticipation.

Erik paused. Has there been any trouble?

Pourier looked over one shoulder. Quite a bit, but Im not going to give you the details...nothing in the past few hours. I heard about the unrest; glad you made it back unharmed.

Erik nodded. We wont detain you then.

Carry on, sir, Poirier added, closing the door between them.

Meg tugged Erik away, leading through the new art gallery and into the side corridor that led toward her dressing room. With whispers of conversation she pointed out the changes that had been made in restoring the opera house, answering whatever questions he had. The quiet darkness surrounding them lent an air of intimacy to their journey, and when they stopped before her dressing room door she wondered what he was thinking.

He leaned against the wall, watching her jostle the key in the new lock, finally opening it and pushing open the door. She looked up, frustrated that she could not see his eyes in the darkness, only his outline. Gently clearing his throat, he took her hand as she stepped backward into her room.

Will you be accepting tonights dinner invitation? he asked in a hushed voice.

am I still invited?

If you so desire.

She nodded regally. I doare the plans the same?

Yes, he said stiffly, turning his head to scan the corridor they had just traversed. And your mother?

She studied his profile, longing to reach up and touch him. She is very much looking forward to it.

He turned back to face her. Are you? he whispered.

Not if you wont be there, she thought, her eyes misting with emotion. When she nodded, he seemed to relax.

I would, however, like to return the favor, she said politely. When you have some time.

He leaned closer, transferring his hand to the lintel. I expect to be free Friday night, he whispered. After the premiere.

She nodded. That should be fine, as long as it is not too late.

He seemed to considered this a moment. Are you not dancing in Don Juan?

She tilted her head back against the door, looking up at him. I have an understudy who is very capable, she hinted.

How convenient

Although I have been rehearsing, I havent yet decidedI didnt wish to offend you by doing so, she told him.

You wouldnt, he said softly, breathing a frustrated sigh as he looked away. I have been asked to make an appearance during intermission, he said tightly. After that obligation is met, I expect to be escorted away as quickly as possible.

You will not see the entire production?

He hesitated. I do confess my desire to see you dance.

Though not necessarily Don Juan.

No, he whispered. Not necessarily that.

She reached for his other hand, and when he enfolded hers in his the warmth of his touch spread all the way to her toes, making it difficult to concentrate on the importance of their discussion.

I am very eager to hear what you have to say to us all, on that night, she told him.

Im sure you are.

Inspector Leger has insisted that I leave the building at 9:00, by way of the dance school alley, she informed him. A coach will be waiting for me there.

Then he is concerned for your safety.

Yes, but more for yours, I fear, she told him. So if I do dance, it will only be for the first part.

I seewhatever you decide, I will be watching.

She stared up at him, worried about what may happen to him. From where?

Youll know.

She nodded. The inspector has also insisted I stay away for a few days afterward, in case anyone should discover we are related...you do have many admirers, some of whom might consider me a threat.

He shook his head. And your mother?

She will be escorted to a different location.

That sounds like wise advice, he admitted. where did he suggest you go?

That was left to my discretion, she said carefully. I was thinking that perhaps it might the appropriate time to meet somewhere for dinner.

Assuming I survive the evening, he chuckled.

Of course, she answered, choosing to look at their situation as he did. The only problem is where, she sighed, her voice trailing off.

you might consider what you see tonight as an option, he offered. Ask for a tour of the kitchen...it could be adequately stocked ahead of time should you find it acceptable.

She touched him then, laying her hand on his chest as she stretched up on her toes. Thank you, she whispered, kissing him softly on the lips. Smiling at his sharp intake of breath, she let her hand brush down to his waist as she stepped away.

The pleasure is mine, he answered in a hoarse whisper.

I would like to cook for you, she continued. And it will have to be a late supper, considering our previous obligations.

Very well.

Perhaps at 10? Being theatre people, we are accustomed to late suppers, are we not?

He nodded. God willing, I shall be there.

The silence lengthened between them until she moved back toward him. Will you stay? she whispered, her face close to his.

She could feel the intensity of his regard as he lifted her hand, turned it and opened her fingers to kiss her palm. As his lips lingered there she felt herself trembling with desire. Then he pressed a tender, lingering kiss over her lips, finally touching his forehead to hers.

I havent the strength to resist on my own, he whispered to her.

She lifted both hands to frame his jaw. Dont try, Erik.

I love you, he whispered, kissing her again in goodbye.

Tears spilled from her eyes as her fingers trailed from his. I love you, too...

He paused a step away from her, swallowing loudly. We will be together, he promised, and then he walked down the corridor the way they had come.

Slumping against the doorframe, she watched him until he reached the exit, hearing his muted goodbye and Poiriers reply. When the outside door closed she crossed the hall to the windows, touching the cold glass to watch him walk down the path.

Come back to me, she whispered, her heart pounding in her chest as she waited, watching him slip into the stable building.

But within minutes he rode out on Prince and vanished from sight. When she could no longer hear Prince's canter, she returned to her room and closed the door, wondering how she would be able to sleep.

Checking her clock, she took comfort in the fact that only a few hours separated her from traveling to the house he wanted her to see, for mostly unspecified reasons. With a prolonged yawn she pulled off her clothes, donned the flannel nightgown she had worn at the cabin and climbed into bed. Within minutes she was sound asleep.

c. 2007 by Christine Levitt

Daniel was waiting for him outside his room, slumped against the wall. Alarmed by his anxious expression, Erik paused on the final step of the long climb up. Whats wrong?

Quickly straightening to attention, Daniel gripped the railing. We must leave nowit cannot wait until tomorrow.

Slowly stepping up, Erik reached into his pocket for the key, eyes on Daniels face. Unlocking the door, he stood aside. All right, he said, noting Daniels apprehension as he entered and went quickly to the window to look out. Swinging off his cloak, he draped it over the wall hook. Give me a moment to change and pack a few things.

Staring out the window, Daniel shook his head. I should have foreseen it, he muttered. Despite all the security and changing routes...

Erik sank to the edge of his bed and began to pull off his boots. Just tell me what happened.

Daniel turned to look at him. Im being followedjust like you were the night we left Notre Dame.

Smirking, Erik dropped a boot to the floor. That was my wife, and Aarons 14-year-old nephew.

This is different! Daniel hissed, perching on the edge of the desk. I saw him for the first time tonight, just a glimpse, halfway between the tunnels and here. I made sure I outwitted him, then went back to tell the others to change our plan. Aarons bringing them to the stables by midnight, and from now on we all use only the tunnel systems to come and go.

Dropping his other boot, Erik heaved a sigh of resignation.
Fine, he declared, rising to change his clothes. Accustomed to his privacy, he thought of asking Daniel to leave but didnt know how to explain. After all, Daniel had not grown up as he hadcompletely alone.

Fine? Daniel parroted. No questions or arguments?

Erik turned from his wardrobe, his brows raised. Do I have a choice?

Of course you do, Daniel said somewhat hesitantly. This isnt Legers work.

I was under the impression it was.

It is, as far as we can work together effectively, Daniel stated. Whether you or Leger cooperate were going, so dont feel obligated in any way.

You are forgetting one important detail, Erik whispered, pulling off his dress shirt. You dont know where the parish is.

Daniel shrugged. You can give me directions or Ill ask for them.

Erik turned away to hang up his shirt. Its not that kind of place.

Its a church, correct? Everybody knows where churches areits the synagogues that are kept secret.

Erik looked around at him. Thats itwhy didnt I think of it before! he breathed. You are from Russia, arent you?

Im careful, not paranoid, and no Im notI just studied there, Daniel answered with a frown.

I seebut now I am certain that you need my help.

Im perfectly capable of going without you, Giles.

Oh I know you are, Erik stated. But how will you go? Asking directions to a remote place in the mountains only few know even exists? And dressed like that?

Daniel looked down, smoothing his hands along his long jacket before looking back at Erik. What do you mean?

Erik threw him a shirt, nodding toward Daniels fringes. I dont mean to be disrespectful, but you had better tuck those in and wear less formal clothing for the ride.

Daniel scratched his beard. Perhaps youre right, I dont look like Im going to church, do I?

Erik chuckled. Not the last time I checked.

I forgot, Daniel muttered, pulling off his jacket and tucking his tzizit into his waistband. He frowned at Eriks neatly made bed, looking like it had not been slept in for days. You know I came up here a few times looking for youwhere have you been all day?

Erik began to change his pants, offering him a satisfied smile. Sleepingshoppingand courting my wife in absentia.

So you slept through my knockingcourting your wife, in absentia? What do you mean by that?

Erik looked up. Exactly what it implies

Courtinginteresting, but I wont press you for details, he commented, changing his own shirt. But now I must apologize for taking you away from her.

Erik turned back to his wardrobe. It cannot be helped in my situation.

Perhaps it can, Daniel said thoughtfully. Were I in your position, I would sternly warn anyone coming between married couples that they are treading upon dangerous ground...holy ground in fact.

Ah, but Im not the rabbi, Erik commented. I dont have to be so diplomatic...I practically threatened Leger to keep him from interfering.

And he didnt lock you up or forbid you to see her?

Quite the contrary" Erik announced, turning to face him. "Just last night I was granted access to the Opera House corridor wherein lies her dressing room.

That sounds like a major coup, Gilescongratulations!

Placing a hand over his heart, Erik half bowed. It was, though I must admit such a change raises my suspicions.

Now who is paranoid? Daniel laughed. Although in your case no one can blame you for being that way--but why are you here, and shes not?

Erik dropped his bag onto the foot of the bed and sat to pull on his boots. I would rather wait, until the danger subsides and Friday night is behind us.

Good idea...ah Friday night: the Sabbath, Daniel mused, tugging at his beard. You know, Im very tempted to come and see the performance.

So am I, but only from the third balcony.

But youll be on stagethe main attraction, from what I read and hear.

Erik got up, reaching for his jacket. I plan to make as abrupt an exit as proves feasible.

I would like to be there Giles, to support your efforts.

I appreciate the thought, but it is Friday night.

The president of the synagogue could lead the service again

Erik picked up his bag and headed toward the door. Ready to go?

Daniel nodded. I am grateful for your help in coming along," he said. "Erik.

Their eyes met, and Erik nodded soberly. Then maybe you could do me a favor?

Of course.

Once we have passed the city limits, tell me about the person following you, and the real reason why.

Its not a very nice story, Giles.

Erik opened the door for him to precede him. I doubt you will surprise even me, Rabbi.



Meg circled the perimeter of the stage, fanning herself in an effort to cool down from their rehearsal. The stage was crowded and the lights were hot. The crew was busy getting everything in order for premiere, and when she heard hammering above she glanced up at the scaffolding. High above their heads stood Raoul, dressed as Don Juan. Christine was at his side, nodding as he spoke to her. Meg watched them covertly, unable to forget another Don Juan who had stood in that same spot embracing Christine. Staring at Raoul, she forced herself to forget the past and forgive the pain shed felt watching Erik hold Christine, seducing her with his touch and his voice.

They had all felt it, the lure of his attraction. From the moment he came from behind the curtain for the first time, Erik's powerful presence and voice both threatened and captivated. It had only taken a few moments for him to become Paris latest obsession, and in the months following that night it had grown and spread far beyond the city. Now, as opening night drew near, anticipation for his return intensified. Everyone was talking about it; the papers were filled with discussions concerning the possibility, and the volume of mail pouring into the office from all over the world tripled. Three months of performances were already sold out, but for opening night city officials had granted special permits to accommodate standing room only. The military had taken up residence around the blocks and inside the theatre. Now all they had to do was rehearse, and wait.

Meg studied the expressions on the faces around her, noting their tension and eagerness. Among the performers nerves were on edge and emotions overly dramatic. This was the setting for the phantoms return, and Paris believed he would do so to settle the score against the Opera. Despite his well publicized outrage toward Raoul and Christine, as well as his willful destruction of the theatre, he had nevertheless gained an astounding number of admirers. Equally large was the crowd who considered him a threat to society, hated his deformity and longed to see him in prison.

Meg tried to compare him to Raoul, wondering if the young count realized the unique challenges he faced, trying to replace the phantom. He looked confident and self assured, eager for a chance to lure the opera worlds attention to himself. She listened to his voice travel competently along the practice scales of his warm up, forcing herself to admit he was a talented and professional vocalist. But something was missing...

She sat down slowly, flexing her feet to ease their sudden cramping. She heard Christines voice join Raouls in the same song which had been cut short by her unmasking of the phantom. Meg gazed up, watching them sing and look so perfect for each other. As they sang what should have been the highly moving and seductive climax to the opera, Meg wondered how the crowd would receive it. If the light and somewhat unenthusiastic applause rising from the stage now was any indication of their response, surely they had to be worried. Looking a bit surprised but cool, Raoul lifted Christines hand, kissed it and promptly declared rehearsal over. Christine blushed as they turned to make their descent together.

What was it that Erik had, Meg considered, that Raoul did not? His voice had been perfect in pitch and tone, but Eriks was rough, sensual, raw with masculinity. Raoul's singing excited none of the shivers Eriks voice sent scurrying along her skin and down her back. His face was perfect, classically handsome, yet devoid of character and the emotional power Erik could communicate with just one glance. She sensed the rest of the company was equally well aware of the contrast between the two Don Juans. Could Raoul shake the company and the audience to its core, taking them from the height of desire to the depths of loneliness and suffering as Erik could?

As she imagined what he would do on Friday night, she ached with longing for him, and reached for her wedding band where it hung suspended by a thin chain within the folds of her neckline. Brushing her fingertips over its fine details, she remembered her revelation the first time she saw it, lying on her dinner plate at the home he had designed for her. She knew why he had chosen it, not only to finally give her a matching ring for the jeweled one presented at their wedding, but to also furnish and far surpass the plain gold one he had once given to

Christines voice rang out, high and clear with laughter. Her face glowed with happiness as she stood with her hand on Raouls arm as they spoke with the managers. Meg fingered the jeweled ring Erik had given her, one she wore openly but which no one had mentioned despite its size and brilliance. She studied Christine at length, searching for some sign of the woman who had once been her friend. How tempted she was to wear her golden wedding band, to flaunt it and her marriage before Christine and the world. But that would mean stooping to a level of pettiness she despised, which she refused to do. It was bad enough that her marriage to Erik was confined to whispered gossip and mocking laughter, and she knew she had Christine and Raoul to thank for that. And for the fact that everyone called her by her maiden name as if afraid to speak Eriks surname as boldly as she did.

Pulling herself to her feet, she felt the weight of someones stare and scanned the crowded stage, stopping at her mothers disapproving frown. Mme. Giry did not look pleased, and her grimace and nod toward Raoul and Christine communicated an unmistakable message.

Stop glaring at them and never let them see how they have hurt youdo not give them the satisfaction!

Smoothing her features into a sweet smile, Meg swept low into a graceful bow of acknowledgement. When she looked up again her mothers expression had relaxed only slightly. They argued about forgiving Raoul and Christine, and she had not been able to convince her mother that she had indeed forgiven them. Her emotions kept getting in the way, having not yet aligned with her will to forgive. It took tremendous willpower to keep from retaliating against their efforts to destroy her marriage, as well as to continue being part of a company that enjoyed success and fame at Eriks expense. But she kept hearing her mothers lecture on making the best of a bad situation and following through until the end of premiere night. Erik needed her here, and he needed her to be strong, her mother had insisted. It was the only thing that kept her from yielding her position to her understudy and having nothing more to do with Raoul and Christine. She would stay until the end. For Eriks sake.



Erik lit the lantern in Megs small dining room, checking his watch by its meager light. Only a few hours until sunrise, he thought, closing his eyes and massaging his brow. He breathed a sigh of thanks for their safe arrival, and there had been no indication that anyone had followed. The Russians endured the journey with characteristic hardiness, and Daniel had been strangely silent. By time Isaacs deep voice greeted them at the gate he had felt like shouting in triumph, not realizing how differently his arrival was from the first time Meg had brought him here.

You have a strange way of arriving here at the same time... Isaac had stated calmly, startling Daniel and the others into wary stillness.

But not with a beautiful young woman this time, Erik answered him. Not with Marguerite.

But in a much better state of health this time Isaac had declared, coming out from his hiding place in the bushes. He strode up to Prince, patted his neck and shook Eriks hand. Friends of yours?

Erik nodded. We are a day earlier, but I believe Pieter is expecting us.

Laying his bag upon her table, Erik scanned the little parlor, his gaze catching on something which seemed out of place. Walking toward the table of books, he saw his old bag stop the stack, the one hed thrown over the cliff. Reaching to claim it, he studied it in awe. It was considerably more torn and faded, but intact.

Where did? he whispered, flipping the flap over and seeing a note pinned to the secret compartment he had never before acknowledged. His name was scratched over the front, but he unsnapped the pocket and took out anothera folded piece of paper, this one wrinkled and faded. Turning toward the light, he slowly opened and read the message meant for him to discover months ago, his eyes moistening. Slowly sitting down, he reread it and was humbled by her message. If only he had seen it beforethey never would have spent so much time apart, so angry and lonely. Shaking his head at his own stubbornness, he unpinned the newer note and read it, his mouth taut.

Erik
I thought you would prefer her rooms to your old one
I found this at the base of the cliff the night of the storm and thought you might be missing it. Forgive my quick judgment.

Benjamin Giryyour brother-in-law.

Erik remembered how angry Ben had been, having a strange suspicion that Ben had already had it in his possession the day theyd fought about Meg. But why hadnt Ben told him about it? And why hadnt he given it to him before? Lifting a hand to the bag, he searched the contents and found nearly everything hed thrown away. His shaving brush was there, but not the mug or the soaps. The items of clothing hed had with him had been laundered and folded neatly, placed in the bottom section. In the small pocket of the lining was the little handmade book shed written, which he hesitantly opened. With a groan of regret he found the pages stiff and wrinkled, the painted designs along the edges blurred and marred. Thankfully the main sections were legible, carefully executed in his wifes small cursive lettering. Closing it gently, he got up and slowly entered her bedroom, placing it on her quilt. Then he pulled off his clothes and lifted the blankets. Settling into the warm softness of her bed, he closed his eyes, his fingers framing the edge of her book as he quickly gave himself over to sleep.


By late Wednesday an icy rainstorm blanketed the mountains, slowing their descent as they walked leading their horses through the dense wood. Erik frowned as Daniel stumbled and bit back an impatient complaint. He glanced behind once again, seeing nothing but well aware of their being followed. The man was more capable than he had expected, never losing track of their haphazard journey and maintaining a wide span between them. He doubted Daniel had noticed yet, for he seemed more weary than anxious after two hours of hiking. Prince butted his shoulder, and he raised a hand to his cheek to reassure him. But the stallion was jumpy, eager to quicken their pace despite the icy sheen on the rocks and frozen moss.

Easy, boy, he sighed, slowing his steps and watching Daniel gain some distance from him. In the light of day he was able to follow the faint trail that wound through the forest, allowing Erik to scout their progress from behind. Dropping further back, he smiled when Daniel failed to notice, almost grateful for the miserable rain to distract him. After several more minutes he gauged the position of the man following them, alarmed at the shift and preparing for an ambush. Daniel lifted a hand to his hood and shook it without looking behind, and Erik prayed a final plea for his protection before he eased his steps and turned back.

A rock shot from the cover of the trees and struck Daniels arm just as he cried out in warning. It happened so fast that Erik found himself at a disadvantage, but he jumped onto Princes back and headed in the direction from which it had sailed. He heard Daniels shout as he mounted quickly and began to turn back.

Go on! Erik shouted, taking a hit from another rock that struck his hip. To his horror he saw the man emerge from the woods, mounted on a brown stallion that was bearing directly toward Daniels retreat.

Watch out! Daniel warned just before Prince veered suddenly away from a boulder, unseating him. Erik clung to the saddle before remounting, watching the rider close the gap between himself and Daniel. He reached for his dagger and flung it toward him, hitting the mark on the mans arm. He cried out but succeeded in unhorsing Daniel, who began to run after his fleeing mount.

Erik charged after the man, who pulled to an abrupt halt and tackled Daniel, losing his own horse to canter off into the woods. Prince brought him quickly to their side and he slid off to knock the man away. To his amazement he saw his own dagger protruding from the mans upper sleeve, growling as he pulled him off Daniel. He had succeeded in knocking him out, and broke into a run to escape. Hearing the rush of a waterfall, Erik chased him on foot into the dense wood, watching his dagger sail back toward him and bury itself in a tree limb not far from his head.

They reached the edge of the cliff and struggled, keenly aware of the thundering rush of water a good drop below their feet. The mans face was hidden by his drooping hood, sodden from the rain as he swung back and kicked to best him. The weight of Eriks clothing dragged him down, slowing his every effort to fight. Though the man was a head shorter he was twice his girth, obviously heavily muscled even beneath his dark clothing. They fought for what seemed like hours before the man gripped his jacket and pulled him close, smashing his forehead into his. Dazed, Erik felt the earth give way beneath his feet as they drifted over the edge of the bank.

With a loud splash they fell into the powerful arms of the icy waters, still swinging at each other as the current carried them along helplessly. Dodging a large boulder, the man faced him and kicked him forcefully in the side. Erik swung away from him and struggled against the powerful current toward the bank. He was carried faster along, but when he swung away from a rock the man was swept past him. He heard the sickening smack of his head against the rocks and saw him go limp, floating away downstream. Praying, Erik surged after him but was unable to reach him to pull him out. They were separated as the current flicked him faster around the bend. After some time his vision blurred and he tasted blood. Hearing the weak sounds of his own wheezing, he lunged with the last of his strength and stroking away from the next set of rocks. Praying for Meg and Louise, he added Daniel and himself to his plea for mercy as the river swept him further down the mountain.



What do you mean youve lost track of him! Meg screamed, gripping the edge of Inspector Legers desk and feeling as if she were about to faint. As his iron willed gaze bored into hers her strength surged back. Answer me!

We are doing everything we can! he objected. As soon he contacts us someone will get word to you

But you said he was scheduled to meet you here yesterdayhas he ever missed an appointment before?

Leger held her accusing gaze. Only one other time, Madame.

Then you know something has happened to him! she railed at him, ignoring his flinch of response. He had a business meeting for which he never appeared and no one seems to know where he is

Part of the problem in his insisting upon more personal time is that we cannot protect either of you without knowing where you are

Dont make the same mistake you did the last time, she warned. He was only detained because the Buquet brothers took him hostage

That was regrettable, but frankly we had no idea what kind of man we were dealing with

You most certainly did, after all the documents he sent you!

Mme. Destler, I have a quarter of my men dispatched to search the city

Thats wonderful but I would like you to tell me what your plans were for him

As I have already stated I have no idea beyond the times we had already agreed upon

Perhaps I might be of some help, a hesitant voice offered, startling them both. Meg straightened and turned to face a tall, slender man who stood at Legers door. I was with him before he disappeared.

Leger stood abruptly. Rabbi Mendlesohn he began, his expression twisted with concern. Are you all right?

You were with my husband? Meg croaked, noticing his beard and the white fringes dangling at the hem of his jacket. He looked bruised and pale, shaken in fact. Youre the rabbi Rosalie told me about!

He looked at Leger, guilt washing over his expression. Its all my faultI tried to get here as soon as I could to explain.

Please, Meg pleaded, gripping his arm. Tell me what happened, I have a terrible feeling something is wrong. He nodded kindly to her as Leger came to his side.

Whatever you say must be held in strict confidence, then you may speak with her, he interrupted. I have men out searching the city

Hes nowhere near here, the rabbi stated. And his wife has a right to know.

Leger sighed deeply, sending out his men to call off the search and report back. He leaned out into the hall and summoned Gilbert, then gestured toward the chairs before his desk. Be as succinct as possible, Rabbiwe need to find him before anyone else does.


c. 2007 by Christine Levitt

Hands clasped tight, they thanked the security men accompanying them and rushed out the door of the dance school. As Leger had promised, a coach and driver were there waiting for them. Erik released her hand and stepped aside, waiting for her to precede him down the steps. Still wearing her pointe shoes, she lifted the hem of her gown and descended awkwardly. The cobblestones paving the alley jabbed through the thin soles of her shoes as soon as she stepped onto them, but before she could protest he swept her up into his arms and carried her to the coach. Ducking inside, she seated herself as he reached up to pass something to the driver. His expression was tense, and the grim set of his lips told her more than any words might express. Pulling the borrowed cloak up around her shoulders, she watched him nod curtly to the driver as he pulled out his wallet.

If anyone follows, make sure to lose them, he ordered, handing up a few bills. I dont care how hard or fast you have to drive, just do it.

Aye, sir, and thank you sir! a gruff voice replied.

He glanced furtively toward the stables and toward the opposite end of the alley, checking for any visible threat to their safety. Then as if sensing her regard, he turned to look into her eyes. She felt a jolt of desire leap between them, and in that moment she was convinced that from this point on he would allow nothing more to come between them. The set of his jaw was unyielding, the look in his eyes possessive. Without breaking eye contact he moved in one fluid motion, climbing in and passing before her to sit at her side. Just as he pulled her hand into his another roar of cheering and exuberant applause thundered toward them, indicating that Don Juan Triumphant was creating its own sensation without them. She shifted her attention to the door they had just exited, half expecting the mob to burst forth upon them. Feeling him shift slightly, she heard him rap twice on the roof to signal the driver, sending them lurching into motion.

Taking one last look at the building as if not recognizing it, she saw the lights from the opera house windows stream past them. Quickly rounding the corner she gasped at the people crowding the stairs to get in, as well as the lines of police holding them back. The entire city block was congested with traffic and people crowding toward the opera, reminding her of the mob that had trapped them not many days before. All it took for tonights crowd to rage out of control was one shout or small act of defiance, and Erik had stood dangerously close to the same thing happening again. Feeling for his hand, she turned toward him.

Oh, Erik, I was so frightened she began, interrupted by the hand that framed her cheek as his lips covered hers. She froze, too surprised to react.

It was a desperate kiss, one that was combined with fear, longing and gratitude. Quickly recovering her senses she reached for him, gripping him like a lifeline as she returned his kiss. He groaned in satisfaction, pulling her up against his chest as he slid backward, dragging her with him across the seat. She put out a hand to stop him from hitting the wall of the coach, although it was heavily padded and would not have harmed him. His hand braced the back of her head as he kissed her greedily, drinking her response as if he were dying of thirst. Pressing against him, she wound her arms around his shoulders, loving the hard contours of his body as dearly as her most treasured refuge.

Eventually he rested his head back, easing the demand of his kisses. His fingers teased the sensitive skin along her jaw and neck before he stamped brief kisses along their path. His touch and breath sent delicious sensations coursing through her, making her want more. Raising a hand to ease the black wig from his head, she smiled as it slid off the back of his head to expose his own hair. Touching its damp, wavy texture she realized how hot the wig must have felt under the stage lights. In her mind she kept seeing him standing there upon the stage, bravely facing both admirers and enemies, offering himself a willing target for their frustrations. Training her hands along his temples and across his sideburns, she framed his jaw with her hands and kissed him tenderly, feeling the tension in him begin to drain away as he seemed to relax. The hand at the back of her head slowly sifted through her hair, and the one at her waist loosened and lay still.

She could see flashes of his eyes from the passing streetlamps, the gaze locked upon her face expectant and hungry. After a moment he raised his head, slowly straightening his back as he coaxed her to a more upright position. Tilting his head to one side, he pressed soft, fleeting kisses over her cheek and down the side of her neck. She explored the right side of his face with her fingertips, feeling the tiny imperfections from his surgery which were not visible to the eye. Seeing him wearing that black half mask had made her want to tear it off but she had refrained because it protected his new identify, one she wanted kept secret from the crowd. Later, as they left the stage together, he had torn it off and cast it away without as much as a backward glance. As she had done with her own mask.

He tilted her ear to his lips. You shouldnt have risked coming out to me, he breathed, sending a shiver of response through her entire body. Never have I been more terrified, or thrilled than when you did.

She spread her hands over his chest, balancing herself against him. I wanted them all to see our love, she told him. By the way, may I say that you handled the situation masterfully, in my opinion.

He dropped his head back against the seat, his expression filled with regret. It was not how I envisioned our reunion.

Well, Im grateful to have you back no matter what it took, she said, smoothing a hand down his lapels. And that the premiere no longer looms over us.

He caught her hand in his and squeezed it. Hopefully it settled things, once and for all.

She watched him close his eyes in exhaustion. Do you think we might now enjoy a more normal life?

He opened one eye to look down at her. That depends upon your definition of normal.

She gripped his shoulder as the carriage bumped over a rough spot in the road. Normal, lets see: a life without fear of never seeing you again.

I cannot tell you how deeply I regret causing you all this distress, he told her.

But you have also given me great joy, she corrected, and a deeper love, even if born out of suffering.

He studied her a moment, his expression troubled. I owe you an explanation for why I was delayed

She rested a finger over his lips. Later, she whispered, kissing him lingeringly. I would rather we owe each other nothing but kisses.

He leaned his head back, his smile tight. If that is all we do, I will find it too difficult to stop

She touched the corner of mouth with her thumb. That would be fine with me, she whispered.

He laughed softly, shaking his head. May I remind you we are in a public conveyance, he said gently. Having experienced that frustration once before, I do not care to repeat it.

She smoothed a hand around the back of his neck, easing his lips closer to hers. But Ive missed you so, she whispered, kissing him gently.

And I have missed you, he breathed, kissing her tenderly but tucking her face against his neck. But I do have limits, my love.

Although his endearment made her spirits soar, she had to admit he was right. If that is the case, she sighed reluctantly, then please, continue in your explanation. I am curious why you chose the last moment to appear backstage, and why you didnt let me know you had already returned to Paris.

He captured her hand in his, settling more comfortably into the cushions. Any contact between us could have placed you in more danger, he insisted. A hired assassin was following Daniel, and as we were returning from the parish he attacked us.

You went to the parish? Werent the police protecting you, as promised?

He closed his eyes. They didnt know that we left a day earlier than planned.

She stared up at him a moment. I would ask for more details, but I have a feeling they are confidential.

I will only share the most minimum by way of explanation, he told her, watching her carefully now. I was able to lure him away from Daniel but in struggling we lost our footing and fell into the river. The waters were flooded and the current too strong; we were separated and swept away. The next thing I knew, Prince was nudging me awake at a bend in the river. I saw no one else.

Prince! she gasped. He found you, when the police were not able?

He considered her observation, finally nodding in agreement. It was quite an amazing feat, now that I think of it I confess to being rather accustomed to his abilities and sometimes taking them for granted. It is true, however, that I would not have survived without him.

Oh Erik, she breathed, winding her arm around his waist. Had I know all that I would have been even more hysterical with worry.

He studied her expression and nodded. Then it is better you were kept unaware; Leger must be right about that, to some degree.

Settling closer to him, she shook her head in bewilderment. And I thought you were just delivering letters and managing the homeless shelter.

Aaron and Esther manage that well enough without my helpand although I do deliver documents, more often it is people who must be delivered.

Daniels people?

He nodded. They are refugees, people who have suffered terrible persecutions and have had to flee their homes.

So you and he bring them to the shelter?

Yes, and after a safe period of time we escort them to the parish. From there, Pieter helps them decide a future course of action.

How could I have not known about this? she wondered. Ive been going there for years.

It is only recently that the parish has been involved.

So you have set up a kind of highway for them, as they have done in America with the slaves, she guessed.

He nodded. Very similar to that, yes.

She laid a hand on his thigh. But that is even more dangerous than I first thought.

It cannot be helped, and I only share this knowledge with you so that you can understand its importance, not to frighten you.

She studied his expression, well aware not only of his competence, but of her need to trust in his abilities. The way he had handled himself before that crowd was proof enough, in her mind.

I trust you, Erikbut have you truly recovered, from your ordeal?

He sighed in resignation. I dont suppose I can hide anything from youno, not quite. I am on medication for vertigo

Vertigo? she gasped, suddenly suspicious of his abrupt appearance backstage. Had he arrived, as in the past, via the complex trapeze network stretched high above the stage, all the while suffering from vertigo? Why would you hide that from me? I am your wife

Exactlywife, not nursemaid.

But Erik, what if something happened to you? With no one aware of your illness or the fact that you were on medication

Ill be fine, he insisted.

Yes you will, but you must accept the fact that we are marriedyou are no longer alone

His eyes traveled slowly over her features. No, I suppose Im not, he admitted softly.

Well you cannot stop there, she insisted, go onhow did you get it, and who is treating you?

I was pulled underwater several times, which poses no threat unless one has undergone facial surgeryby the time Prince brought me to a nearby village and the local doctor took me in, I could do nothing but lie in one position and fight the nausea. Apparently the inner ear was somehow affected, but within a day of taking the medication I was able to manage well enough to continue back here.

At that moment they heard the driver begin to coax his horses to slow down, and outside the windows they could see the darkened estates lining the road leading steeply uphill. They were nearly home, she judged, turning to meet his gaze.

You should definitely see Jean, she advised. Just to be sure everything is fine.

He pressed his lips tight before answering. Ill think about it.


Erik nodded to the guards stationed on the front porch, opening the door for Meg to enter before him. Good night, he said, surprised when the larger man touched his arm hesitantly. As Meg stepped up into the hall, he cleared his throat and met Eriks waiting gaze.

No need for concern, monsieur, he said quietly, glancing into the house to be sure she would not hear. My men and I are well seasoned in this kind of work we will ensure the highest level of privacy for you and your wife.

Thank you, Erik replied. That would be greatly appreciated.

He left him to step up and enter the house. He was aware of Meg watching him carefully as he closed and latched the door.

Six guards? she whispered, her expression troubled. Is that really necessary?

Apparently Leger thinks so, he said quietly, going toward her to put a hand to her waist. I was just reassured of complete privacy, he said, surprised when she rose to the tips of her pointe shoes and put her arms around his waist.

Thats a relief, she sighed dreamily, kissing his lips. I wouldnt want our first dinner alone to be hindered by any intrusions, she said, running her fingers into the back of his hair.

Putting a hand between them to unfasten her cloak, he pulled it off and half turned to drape it over the hook. Neither would I, he whispered back, feeling her hands at the base of his throat. She unfastened his cloak and gripped his waist as he hung it next to hers.

I have to confess to enlisting Claires help for tonight, she said, taking his hand to draw him after her. Guiding him toward the dining room, he saw that the table had been set. The house was bathed in soft candlelight, filled with the aroma of some unnamed delicacy that made his mouth water. A fire glowed in the fireplace, warming the house against the chill of an early winter.

Dont worry, she continued, unbuttoning his jacket. We are completely alone, at least inside the house.

He met her soft kiss, letting her tug at his jacket until together they removed it. When she started on his shirt he concentrated on the clasp behind her slender neck, working it blindly until it separated.

Ive been very curious about what lies hidden at the other end of this chain, he whispered, letting the thin strand drop from his fingers with a smile.

She joined him to glance down at the place where it disappeared into her neckline. He took the liberty of resting his hands along her shoulders as she reached between her breasts and pulled out the ring he had left for her. She looked up, smiling into his eyes.

What else would it be but the beautiful wedding band you gave me, she said softly, taking his hand as she removed it from the chain and placed it in his palm. Ive been waiting for you to put it on.

Holding her eyes, he dipped his head in acknowledgement. I would be honored, he said, sliding it onto the proper finger. I was hoping you liked it.

Its perfect, she agreed, lifting her hand to display its position atop the emerald and diamond ring he had given to her at their wedding. To his dismay her expression clouded with regret. Im sorry I was so childish about the band

You werent being childish, he interrupted, reaching into his pocket and capturing her hand in his. In similar fashion he placed his own gold band in her hand. If fact, I have changed my mind about wearing one myself, he told her, watching her gaze down at his ring. It was the same gold but with only the slightest design, inscribed exactly in the same manner. She looked up, her eyes filled with questions.

Go ahead, he told her. Put it on.

But I didnt mean to force you to wear one.

I am taken, the ring proclaimed, a fit symbol of their commitment to each other. And one which he hoped would help deflect all the unwanted female attention his new face seemed to attract. I belong to someone

You haventIve decided it is an appropriate emblem of my status, not only for our benefit, but for the benefit of others as well.

She lifted his hand and slowly slid the ring into place, planting a soft kiss on his knuckles. His hand trembled slightly when he lifted it to her cheek, eager to touch the smoothness of her skin. She rose to her toes again and kissed him teasingly, igniting the desire he had attempted to bank all night. Within seconds he was dangerously at a loss to forge the intended slow and careful journey back to her after their long separation. To make matters worse, she quickly undid his cravat and tossed it over her shoulder without a care of where it should come to rest. Smiling up at him mischievously, she opened the top of his shirt and planted her hands upon his chest.

Now its my turn to explore, she teased, with your permission, of course.

Whatever you wish, he answered, his breath catching as she lowered her head and placed her lips against his bare skin. His hands stilled at her hips at the same time his eyes shot toward the vast expanse of glass that exposed them to the darkness beyond. There were men guarding the premises outside, he remembered. And he was not willing to risk them seeing anything, regardless of the assurance hed been given.

I appreciate your quick and liberal decision, sir, she breathed, tracing her lips down his chest before he put a hand beneath her chin and forced her attention back to his face.

Perhaps we should have dinner, he suggested, kissing her as his eyes flitting to what looked like a movement beyond the glass of the sunroom.

I am quite hungry, she laughed softly, nibbling his chin before she broke away. She rushed to the table and picked up the covered serving dish, nodding toward the table meaningfully.

You can carry the rest on the tray, she whispered happily, heading toward the hall. And dont forget the wine.

What? he breathed, glancing back toward the windows before following her orders. He laughed at the way she padded off toward the bedroom in her ballet shoes, but made quick work of doing as instructed.

She was waiting by the desk, her hand on the cover. Her other hand was held aloft, indicating the drawn curtains. He chuckled as he placed the tray onto the surface, watching her lift the cover for him.

Beef Wellington, with Bordelaise sauce, she announced, her expression twisting with a bit of guilt. I know I said I would cook dinner but with all the turmoil of tonights events I thought we should just concentrate on each other, but I promise to cook breakfast for you

He reached for the lid, replaced it and scooped her into his arms. Excellent idea, he breathed, kissing her gently. I would rather have your undivided attention than share it with a slice of beef.

Then I am happy to oblige, she laughed softly, tugging the back of his shirt up from his waist.

He leaned a hip against the desk, pulling her close as she ran her hands over his bare back. Her healing touch began to erase all the lonely days that stretched back in time to their last chance to be intimate. Judging by her reaction, she was experiencing the same feelings. She parted his shirt and kissed his throat as she worked.

Im beginning to think you might have missed me, he said thickly, though I doubt it was as much as I missed you.

I did miss you, she whispered, her hands curling up the backs of his shoulders. The only way I could sleep was either to dream of you or imagine being in your arms. I even resorted to sneaking down to your old quarters just to feel close to you.

He raised his eyebrows, tugging gently at the ribbon of her collar until it pulled free. Ah, the power of imagination, he breathed, tracing a finger along the lace covering her collarbone. This is lovely, he said, his eyes following the embroidered patterns on her bodice. You made it

Her face lit with pleasure and he knew he had guessed correctly. I did, for your premieredo you like it?

He slipped his fingers between her arm and her side, moving them slowly up under her armpit. Very much, he breathed, spreading his fingers around to her back as he lowered his face to her neck. It hasnt all the buttons or hooks which require so much time and attention, better spent upon other pursuits

Crying out in pretended outrage, she slid a hand to his satin cummerbund and tugged at it meaningfully. Your clothing is nearly as much of a nuisance, she complained, moving her hand beneath to find the hooks. Which reminds me, she said, nodding toward the bedroom area. I bought you something; Ive laid it out on our bed.

Having managed to loosen one side of her hair, he buried his face in its fragrant softness. Our bed? he breathed, kissing her ear. Do we actually have claim to the same bed? he whispered.

Expertly unfastening his cummerbund and pulling it free, she sighted happily. Yesthere, thats better, she declared, smoothing her hand over his bared stomach. You did provide us with a completely furnished house, as well as a very comfortable looking bed.

Opening the back of her dress, he smoothed a hand over her warm skin. How sensible of me, he breathed, molding his lips to hers for a deeply satisfying kiss. When he lifted his head and tilted up her chin, he saw the dark well of passion in her gaze, making him smile tenderly as he lost himself in the depths of her eyes.

I would be happy to join you there, he whispered, straightening as he took her hand. If you will lead the way.



Meg threaded one hand lazily through his hair as he nudged his cheek against her chest, settling more comfortably in her embrace. His breath ticked her bare skin and his long, contented sigh made her smile. Beneath the pillows his arms braced her back. Slowly spreading her fingers down his spine, she thrilled at his strength and the solid weight of his body in and against hers. He turned his head and kissed her skin softly, making tiny shivers run along her neck as she gripped him tighter. Then he lifted his head and waited for her to dip her lips to his, sharing a slow, languorous kiss. Easing away, he stared at her in bewilderment.

Where have you been all my life? he whispered, his eyes golden in the dimness.

Right here, she sighed, lifting both hands to his head, waiting for you.

He shook his head. I dont deserve you, he said quietly, letting her guide his head back down. She felt the brush of his lashes like a soft whisper against her skin.

I think its the other way around, she sighed contentedly, but Im not going to argue about it.

He chuckled softly, nudging his face up to the side of her neck as he stretched over her. She held him for a long time, finally tracing her fingers gently over the scars on his back. He still tended to turn away so that she couldnt see them, and for some reason it bothered her. She wanted nothing kept secret between them, but sensed he was not ready to share the experience that had left him scarred.

Shifting to his side, he slowly changed positions so that she would not bear his weight completely. But he kept his face between her neck and shoulder as she contented herself with holding a hand over his heart. He reached up and caressed her cheek, then her chin, dropping his hand and closing his eyes. She heard him sigh and closed her own eyes to go to sleep. The warmth and silence of their room enveloped them in a cocoon of protection from the outside world, she thought dreamily.

They whipped me for not performing, he said softly, opening her eyes. Without moving, she studied lay very still, waiting. It hurt less than the shame of pretending to be something I was not.

She tightened her arms around his shoulders. You dont have to

I need to, he sighed, lifting is head to look into her eyes. Ive never told a living soul

She studied his hooded expression. But I thought Maman

No, even she does not knowonly you.

With that astounding confession, he captured her lips in a stirring kiss and she sensed that was all he would say.

I do confess wanting to know everything about you, she whispered, tracing his lower lip. Every detail.

He stretched his head back into the pillows. No, not every detail, he sighed, looking over at her. You only need enough to understand me, and how much Ive been changed by forgiveness.

She stroked back the hair at his temple. You can forgive the people who whipped you? And your family, for casting you out?

He nodded. It took some time, but yesthere is not one soul I have not forgiven, he told her soberly. I cannot afford not to.



Two hours later Erik awoke to a gnawing hunger deep in the pit of his stomach. He waited until his eyes adjusted to the darkness, then glanced over at his sleeping wife. The light glowing dimly from the dining room was just enough to allow him the luxury of studying her while she slept. His eyes followed along the lovely curve of her lips, barely opened in sleep, up to the delicate lines of her cheek and the long splay of her lashes. She lay curved into his side, her soft skin glowing in the pale light. As he gently touched his fingertips to her lower abdomen, he prayed the verses he had committed to memory as he had before. It took some effort to remain awake, for many days had passed without adequate rest, and his hunger for sleep even outweighed that for food. Finally exhausting his memory, he felt peace settle deep within him, and closed his eyes. The silence of the night filled him with contentment.

Nathan

Nearly asleep, he yawned tiredly, distracted as if he had forgotten something and could not rest. Then he remembered the name.

Nathan

It was a sigh, a whisper, an announcement. Slowly opening his eyes, Erik staring at the play of light upon the ceiling, aware of having been addressed.

what? he whispered, listening carefully.

You shall call his name Nathanhe is a gift

His fingers tensed as he gazed down at where they rested, over her womb. Turning his head very slightly, he stared at her profile, and beyond it into the darkness. And then he knew as clearly as if it had been announced from the rooftops. Tonight, he had fathered a child...Nathan.

Meg stirred, tensing and laying a hand over his arm. She turned her head toward him, finally opening her eyes.

Erik? she whispered, lifting her head.

He kissed her softly on the cheek. Im sorry to wake you, he whispered.

She raised a hand to brush her hair from her eye. Did you take your medication?

Not yet, he said, deciding to keep the news to himself for now. But I will.

You need your sleep, she sighed, nuzzling her head against his shoulder.

He wondered if he could sleep at all, after such a revelation...a son, named Nathan. He trailed a fingertip along her cheek, remembering that she had somehow known about it first, writing a book for him. Though he wanted to ask her about that, he sensed this was not the right time. His stomach growled painfully, confirming the fact.

She smoothed her hand along his arm. Youre hungry, she sighed.

He smiled. I believe I might be.

She stretched her neck to look up at him questioningly.

In fact, Im starving, he announced, lifting his arm to throw aside the blankets. He got up, pulling on the black silk robe she had given him. Not bothering to tie it over his nakedness, he padded across the thick rug toward the beef, lifting the lid. He turned to look back at her, and she had pulled halfway up toward a sitting position. It smells delicious, he hinted with a smile.

She laughed softly, smiling back. Go ahead, then.

I cannot help it, he explained, setting the lid aside. Ive not eaten a proper meal in days.

She turned to plump her pillow and sat up higher. Neither have I. Ill join you, if you dont mind serving.

Noting how she tucked the sheet under her arms, he turned back to the task. I would be happy to, he answered, preparing two plates which he carried over to the bed, setting them carefully upon the mattress at her side. Another trip later he extended her glass, waiting for her to take it from his grasp.

I dont want to spill anything... she said with a grin.

You wont, he said, seating himself on the edge of the bed and lifting his glass. A toast first, he suggested, waiting for her to lift her glass. When she did, she looked up with a smile, waiting for him.

He touched his glass to hers. To us, and to the future.

They ate quickly and he finished by swallowing another dose of the medication, though he felt fine. Tucking themselves back into bed, he gathered her into his arms and closed his eyes.

After a moment she sighed contentedly. I slept in your swan bed, she confessed.

He turned to look down at her. Reallywhen was that?

Not long ago, when I missed you too much to sleep, she admitted softly. That was when I found my song, scattered with all the other music littering your quarters.

He lifted his head, staring at her in surprise. So thats how you knew about it, he said. I had wondered if Mon. Reyer had failed to keep the secret. Your performance was very moving; by the waywe were all entranced.

She nodded. Im glad you liked it, but we, on the other hand, wanted it to be a surprise for you, she told him. The monsieur had done some orchestration, but nothing like the final score, which somehow you submitted to him without my knowingand it is a beautiful, amazing piece, Erikyou couldnt have stunned or pleased me more.

He kissed her temple. You think not? he whispered, gathering her close. Then perhaps you should raise your expectations


Meg plunged her arms back into the soapy water, scrubbing the last plate when she felt his arm slide around her. With a shiver of pleasure she turned her neck away to allow his lips free range over that sensitive spot he loved to target. She leaned back against him, closing her eyes as his arms slipped low over her stomach and he signed into her ear.

Thank you for the delicious omelet, he whispered just before she turned her head and sought his kiss.

His soft groan brought a smile to her lips but she turned her attention back to the dishes, feeling him drop his head upon her shoulder in resignation.

Its your turn to dry, she soothed, giggling when his arm shot out to pick up the towel. But instead of moving away to the task she saw his other arm come around her as the drained plate appeared before her.

Like this? he whispered, drying the dish in front of her face. She pulled her arms from the water and turned, shoving his chest gently as he chuckled low.

No, not like that! she sighed as if he were an insufferable student. Ducking under his arm, she reached for the other towel and looked up at him, drying a knife. Like this, she teased, holding his warm gaze.

He was bending to kiss her nose as they heard a knock on the door. Resting a hand on her shoulder, he set aside the plate and dried his hands.

Ill go, he told her, walking down the hallway along the band of sunlight streaming onto the floor. She leaned back against the counter, drying the silver as she watched.

There was Mon. Reyer, nervously clutching his hat between his hands, framed by Detective Gilbert and another man. Im sorry to interrupt he said quickly, glancing over at Gilbert, who nodded and turned to smile at Erik.

We hope youll forgive the interruption, Giles, Gilbert said with a smile tugging up one corner of his mouth. May we come init will only take a few moments of your time.

Erik bowed his head and stood aside to let them enter. Meg stared up at the puzzled look he threw to her, laying aside her work and moving toward the dining room table.

Mon. Reyer, Detective, she greeted them, extending her arm toward the sitting area. Please sit down; may we offer you anything?

Gilbert put up a hand, clutching what looked like newspapers in the other. Nothing for me, thank you, he said, turning to seat himself. I do apologize, but rest assured we wont stay long.

She nodded and looked at Mon. Reyer. You, monsieur?

No, no, please, thank you, he answered. I really only wished to give your husband a letter handed to me at the end of the premiere, he said, passing an envelope to Erik. If youll let me briefly explain.

His expression guarded, Erik nodded and seated himself opposite both me, holding out a hand to Meg. She reached toward to take it and sat down on the arm of his chair.

Of course, he replied, glancing down at his name written across the front. How did you know where to find us?

Reyer glanced at Gilbert, who began to explain. He came to Legers office earlier, saying he had to get this to you as soon as possible. And since I had a message for you, I thought Id bring him along.

Erik raised one brow. Really? How convenient.

Gilbert smiled. But first and most importantly, I need to give you this, he said, reaching into his coat pocket and handing Erik another envelope. You have quite a lot of fan mail, even after the performance. But this one is from the judge.

Meg tightened her hand on the back of the chair, just behind Eriks head. She watched him take it and open it quickly, trying to scan its lines as quickly as he did. Erik looked up.

I hope this is not someones idea of a joke, he warned, holding Gilberts smile. I dont find it amusing

Gilberts smile broadened. Its not joke, monsieur; you are now a free man.

Meg gripped Eriks shoulder, then snatched the letter from Eriks fingers and read it herself. Joy burst within her heart as she read the decree of his sentence being lifted.

What prompted this sudden act of mercy? Erik wanted to know, though she felt him relax beneath her hand.

Your success last night, of course, Gilbert said, frowning the next moment. We could barely control things until you had finished, and Im sure you saw the mob outside, angry that they could not get in to see you. The judge decided, at the mayors request actually, it would be in the best interests of the city to nullify your sentencing, dismiss you from probation and request you leave the city as soon as possible. Really, it is for both our goodwe dont youre your lives in danger and we cannot have another mob running out of control.

Erik shook his head. Its almost too good to believe, he answered. Arent such matters decided in court, with charges dropped formally?

Not in your case, Gilbert told him. They dont want to risk you coming in for that; he mayor was adamant. In fact, he said, looking at Mon. Reyer, everything seems to be falling nicely into place for your future to look much brighter, but far from these environs.

Mon. Reyer, pointed toward the letter he had given him. Please monsieur, you must open it right away; the gentlemen are waiting for your reply.

Erik studied him a moment, then opened that letter. Meg could only see the letterhead, which looked quite formal. It was from the University of Glasgow, Scotland, she thought it read. But Erik quickly moved to the edge of his seat and looked up.

They want to interview me for a professorship, he said incredulously, staring at Reyer. How

As soon as the performance ended, they came looking for you, he told Erik. They were quite upset not to be able to find you, but sensed they could trust me to forward their request to you. They are very influential in the musical world, in case you arent aware of it.

Erik looked back at the letter in his hands, reading their names aloud. No, unfortunately I am not.

Reyer nodded. Professor McAvoy is of advanced age and he told me of his wish to retire, but not before finding his replacement.

Erik looked stunned. Me?

They attended the first tour of Don Juan in London and reserved tickets for last nights premiere. They have followed its success over the continent, and have been most eager to meet the composer.

Erik stared at him in shock. They wish to interview me on Monday, at the opera house.

Reyers face lit with excitement. It is an excellent opportunity, monsieur, he said. They didnt even ask me about your credentials.

Of which I have none, Erik sighed.

Oh but you do, you have your opera, Reyer insisted, and Megs Song, which they stated has excited them even more.

I dont understand, Erik said, looking up at her. It prompted no response from the audience but complete silence.

They were too stunned to respond, she suggested.

But surely, monsieur, the opinions of those in the same profession far outweighs the publics.

Erik leaned back, looking up at her. What do you think?

It cannot hurt to meet with them, she encouraged, glancing at Gilbert. But will that be possible?

Meet outside the city, he suggested. Leger will have no objections, and frankly he is eager to move on to other matters, though you both have his blessing. Ill make sure you have a police escort, and the same coach which took you from the opera house.

Then its settled! Reyer announced, rising to leave. Ill inform them as soon as I return

Wait, Mon. Reyer, Erik stopped him, rising to go to the secretary. If I may, I would like to request you carry back my written acceptance.

Excellent! Reyer stated, turning to Gilbert. That is, if I may have a ride back with you, sir.

Gilbert nodded, looking over at Meg. We escorted him here.

She nodded. I understand.

Erik went to Reyer and handed over his note. The time they have chosen is fine, but I have requested we meet at the inn at the steeplechase.

We can collect them before coming to get you, Gilbert asked. Just tell me the time.

Monday at 2 in the afternoon, Erik answered.

They only remain in the country to see you, Reyer added. So I am sure that whatever arrangements are made they will find them acceptable.

We will have the coach here at half past twelve for you, Gilbert stated. But dont be late.

Erik extended his hand. I appreciate your help, he said, shaking his hand. And yours in particular, Mon. Reyer, he added, shaking his hand as well.

If I can aid the career of a fellow musician, I am glad to be of service, he replied, nodding to Meg. I will provide them a good reference for you, as well...oh, I almost forgot! he said, shaking his head at his forgetfulness. I took the liberty of filing rights to authorship for Megs Song, in your name.

Erik stared at him, not releasing his hand. Youve gone through so much trouble on my behalf

But not just for your sake, Reyer said tightly. What the board and the managers did in stealing your rights and royalties cannot be allowed to continue. I just hope you will forgive an old man for being so impulsive.

There is nothing to pardon, Erik told him, laying a hand on his shoulder. I am very grateful, sir, for everything you have done for mefor us.

Gilbert reached for the newspapers hed left lying on the table. When you have the opportunity, I think you will enjoy the headlines today, he smiled, nodding to Meg. Now we must be going.

They walked them to the door, and after they started down the walk Meg went to his side, winding her arm around his waist. They stood watching until the carriage drove off, then she looked up and met his puzzled frown.

This has certainly been an interesting morning, she said, tugging at his shirt until he moved away and closed the door. She preceded him to the sofa where they sat and unfolded the newspapers together, reading only as far as the headlines.

Phantom Opera Sensation Upstaged by Don Juan, she read over his outstretched arm.

Don Juan Resurrection A Triumph, Erik read quietly, glancing up at her as he finished repeating the headline of the other paper. Phantom Finally Laid to Rest

She laid her head on his shoulder, holding his gaze. Im so sorry, Erik

To her surprise, his mouth turned up at one side, his expression lit with satisfaction. What is there to be sorry for? he corrected.

She slowly lifted her head, staring at him incredulously. Youre not upset?

He smiled broadly. Dont you see, my love? Im finally free


"A man's gift maketh room for him, and bringeth him before great men." Proverbs 18:16 MT

c. 2007 by Christine Levitt

Hi, dear readers,

Although this story was completed some time ago it seems people are still discovering and reading it, so PLEASE, if you are, offer your comments in the "stories" section of this website. I really want to hear your opinions.

By the way, it is being rewritten on fanfiction.net under my name that I use here.

Thanks,
chris