The Curious Tale of Mlle Daae
Disclaimer: I do not own any idea used in this story from the many versions of The Phantom of the Opera or Charlotte Bronte's Jane Eyre. I have created the storyline and characterization, and I ask you permission before any outside use. Thank you.
Note: I am self-betaing this work, so please tell me if you spot any spelling/grammatical mistakes!
Chapter One: London Mystery
London was a grand city in late summer with its many building basking in the afternoon sun on a fine day. The constant hum of traffic on the Thames and the winding streets and boulevards combines with the shouts of every occupation in the noisy street markets and little shops. Down the quieter, more affluent streets, maids hung fine clothes and billowing sheets while chatting to neighbors. The industrial parts of London buzzed with workers taking their brief lunch break before returning to their machines for a long afternoon.
One of the main forms of transportation in these days were black hansom cabs, which ran the length of London. One of these particular hansom cabs was traveling down a wide, well-kept street of Hampstead in the heart of prosperous London. The shabby cab looked out of place beside smart carriages, but the driver had been promised extra for his trouble. The lone occupant of the hansom sat clutching her worn carpetbag, rereading her new employer's summons.
Ms. Daae,
I am delighted at your decision to accept our offer of employment as the governess of my younger daughter, Carlotta. I hope that your services in French, music, etiquette, and literature will be useful to her successful education, supplemented by her science and maths tutor. In addition, as promised, your room will be provided as part of your salary of thirty pounds per annum. I humbly request that you arrive at my family's residence no later than October 15 at your convenience in order to begin your work. On your arrival, please ask for Mrs. LaGrange, our cook, who will take care of you.
My thanks and regards,
Mrs. A. Geory
Christine replaced the letter in her satchel and sighed. After advertising for several weeks as a governess, she had received this elegant summons from Mrs. Geory to be the governess for her daughter. Christine had accepted, having very few other options in the small English town of Lowood as an unmarried woman. Now, she was worried she would not be prepared for such a life. The Geory were a family who had gained their wealth from hereditary titles and industrial investments and were rising stars in society. Christine had been raised in France in the bustling society of music, but would she be ready for the quieter, more refined English equivalent?
Suddenly, the cab stopped. "Number 15, Irving Row," the driver announced. Christine grabbed her bag, fumbling for her cloak and bonnet, before opening the door. She gasped at the white house that stood before her; its classic columns, blue shutters, and curtained windows had a nice effect unlike the rest of the neighborhood. The lawn was being tended to by an elderly man with the last of the summer flowers dying slowly. Christine paid the driver and walked toward the side gate marked "Servants and Deliveries". Gathering her courage from somewhere near her stomach, she rang the small brass bell and waited to be noticed by the gardener.
"What do ye want?" he asked after noticing the young woman standing at the gate.
She smiled nervously and replied, "My name is Christine Daae and was told to ask for a…" she retried the letter for the name, "Mrs. LaGrange?"
The man looked at her for a moment. "Tonia? Oh!" he slapped his forehead. "Ye must be the new governess." Opening the door with a flourish and bow, "I am Frank Bettingfield, head and only gardener for the Georys, at your service."
Christine smiled and curtseyed. "Thank you, Mr. Bettingfield." She gathered her luggage and stepped into the glowing garden. "Oh, it looks lovely! My compliments."
The old man scowled, muttering, "Tis nothing. It looks better in spring and high summer, but it will have to do. This way…" he said gesturing toward an archway leading to the back garden.
Christine followed, gazing up at the tall house. She was a little anxious at the thought of this being her home for the next few years; after all, she had lived all over Europe as the daughter of a talented violinist. She knew of small apartment and grand opera houses, not of stately mansions. She forced her mind back into the present, following the gardener toward the back of the house. He walked down the little stone path to a small wooden door which was thrown open. Steam and the aroma of baking meats filled the space before them.
After walking up stone steps, Christine entered the noise and clamor of a kitchen in full swing for the afternoon meal. Two kitchen boys were retrieving ingredients, stoking fires, and causing quiet mischief near the feet of a young woman about Christine's age. She was stirring a pot, while attempting to keep an eagle eye on her cooling pies and pastries from little fingers. An older woman was quieting sipping on her tea and thumbing through a large cookbook, while issuing orders to her helpers; she paused when she saw the two visitors.
"Welcome, Frank. Now come and have a cuppa with me, there's a good chap." Turning from Frank, she looked at Christine with a kind smile. "Now, you would you be may I ask?"
"My name is Christine Daae, Mrs. LaGrange." From the minute Christine had entered the kitchen, she knew who the woman was and that she was a kind soul. Mrs. LaGrange evaluated the girl for a moment, taking in plain clothing and her friendly expression.
"Welcome, child! We hope you'll be happy here. Come in, come in." She ushered Christine into a seat at the small kitchen table in a small breakfast nook to the side of the main kitchen and gave her a steaming cup full of strong tea, adding a splash of milk.
"I hope the ride wasn't too long, and this weather can be dreadful! Just dreadful! Madame said you'd be coming from the south by train and I know those train rides can be exhausting. Frank Bettingfield," she said rounding on the gardener who was protesting that he had work to do outside, "must you run away like that? Sit." The man bolted into the garden, slamming the door.
Christine smiled at the motherly attitude of the old woman and sipped her tea gratefully. She was tired but not exhausted, having slept most of the train ride from the tiny station in Lowood to London. She murmured her thanks to the younger woman who brought some brown bread and strawberry jam to the table. Mrs. LaGrange joined her with her own cup, turning to the two boys who were in the process of snatching two meat pies from the unguarded windowsill.
"Robert and Sean Donnelly! Stop it! Go take the lady's things to her room, the little attic room that's ready. And no fooling around, ye hear?" The boys, obviously twins with red hair and hazel eyes nodded and grabbed Christine's luggage, scampering away down a passageway. Mrs. LaGrange shook her head, chuckling.
"They're my sister's grandchildren. A pair of kitchen rascals disguised as angels! Don't be fooled by their smiles and giggles," she warned Christine. "They've set snakes on Missus Carlotta and are not afraid to cause any sort of mischief." Christine smiled at the thought of the two boys causing mayhem, while Mrs. LaGrange continued. "Now, you've met Lizzy…" The girl stirring the stew on the counter smiled and waved, before returning to her work.
"Mrs. LaGrange?" Christine interrupted. "I know it's not my place to ask, but what is Carlotta like?" The woman rolled her eyes, and Lizzy giggled from the kitchen.
"She's certainly an… interesting girl. Spoiled, most would say, and an all round pain. But you haven't met Ms. Meg, her older sister, either." The woman smiled briefly before continuing. "Meg is dear girl with a sweet disposition, but Carlotta is just pretty. She was egged by her father and her old nanny, who you, my dear, are replacing. She's smart and well-spoken, but she is convinced she rules this household."
Christine felt her confidence waver slightly. "Is she unmanageable?" The old woman shook her head.
"No, I would say, high-strung. She doesn't mess in the kitchens after Sean and Robert's little trick, but she's definitely a… prima donna. She expects breakfast to be delivered to her promptly at nine o'clock and her lessons never start before noon because she dawdles. You'll get used to her in time."
Christine was about to ask how Carlotta could delay until noon, when Lizzy looked out the window and exclaimed, "They're back! Oh dear, Missus Carlotta looks in foul mood, as usual."
Christine looked out the window which faced the back drive of the house and saw a party emerging from a black carriage. An older woman dressed in dark green cloak emerged first. A young woman in a elegant yellow dress followed, and then a younger girl in a pink ruffled frock jumped down from the carriage. The girl's pretty face was marred by a scowl, and she was red from shouting at her mother and sister. She sighed and closed the drapes, feeling nervous again. A maid in a crisp uniform appeared in the doorway.
She eyed Christine through narrowed eyes. "Tonia, I am to take Ms. Daae to see Madame." She addressed the cook in a sharp efficient voice. Christine rose and followed her retreating back down the passageway bordered by a narrow back staircase. Sean and Robert bulled by the two women with the maid missing their heads by inches. Christine contained her smile and came into a larger hallway with doors on either side of the hallway, ending in the large front door. One open door revealed a large library and another showed a large dining room.
The maid led her into an elegant parlor room on the left side of the door, nodding to a wooden stool near the fireplace. Christine looked around, taking in the fine trappings of the room, feeling displaced after the initial warmth of the kitchen. She sat down and waited.
Suddenly, voice filled the hall outside with two older voices trying to comfort shrill little girl while a butler's voice welcomed them.
"But Mama! I need that new frock and bonnet! Do you have any idea how I will be teased in fashionable society? I mean, I am already teased because of my low connections! Must I…" Another voice cut in sharply.
"Carlotta Geory, I want no more of it. There is no need to complain like you are being deprived of your rights. You have not even been introduced to fashionable society, so I fail to see who will be teasing you." Christine heard a slight rustle of fabric outside and a murmur from the maid. "Oh, thank you Celeste. We will be taking tea in the parlor today as Mr. Geory will not be joining us until dinner. Now…"
"Madame," the maid cut in, "The new governess is here. I thought it best if you met her in the parlor."
"Thank you, Celeste. I will speak with her there. Please tell Mrs. LaGrange that I will be taking tea. Carlotta? Meg? Come with me, my dears." Christine heard the soft clack of boots on the wooden floor of the hallway. She once again gathered her courage and stood as the door opened. Madame Geory was taller and more imposing than Christine expected. Meg Geory quietly seated herself on the divan, motioning for Carlotta to follow. Carlotta seemed content to hide behind her mother a timid expression on her face.
Christine curtsied. "Good afternoon, Madame."
Madame Geory raised an eyebrow. "What part of France are you from?" Christine looked at her for a moment. "You are obviously French or at least have lived there at one point."
"I was raised Paris and my mother, God rest her soul, was from Lyon. But my father was a Swede." Madame Geory again looked surprised, examining her briefly.
Finally, she nodded. "I could hear the Parisian accent. Now," she turned to Carlotta, "you must meet my daughters. This is Carlotta and my oldest Meg." Meg smiled politely, and Carlotta emerged from the folds of her mother's gown, seating herself in a leather armchair. She appraised Christine for a minute before smiling spitefully.
"Why should I have a governess, especially a poor foreigner? Even Nanny was English!" Christine reddened slightly; Carlotta obviously did not approve of her unfashionable dress and foreign accent. Madame Geory rolled her eyes before seating herself opposite Carlotta.
"Now dear, we have been through this. Nanny was getting married, and you need a governess. You refuse to go to school like Meg did, and your schooling has been very poor in the more refined areas." She turned to Christine and motioned for her to sit.
"Now, my dear, what do you plan…" But before she could ask Christine anything, Carlotta cut in.
"Mama, may I go play? You can deal with the governess, if she can even be called that." Without waiting for a reply, Carlotta stormed out and was heard calling for Celeste. Meg sighed, put down the book she was reading, and silently followed her. She caught Christine's eye briefly and again smiled.
"Do you have no control over your daughter?" Christine asked gently. Madame nodded.
"I was ill after her birth for a good year or so. My husband, Jonathan, had absolutely no idea how to raise the child and hired Nanny. I think Carlotta felt more motherly affection for her than she did for me. But, I believe you can handle her adequately." Christine was doubtful of this after seeing Carlotta address her.
"Well, I hope you have some sort of plan in mind. I must ask you what you plan on teaching in French, because Carlotta cannot speak a word of French!" Christine bit her lip. What on earth had she gotten herself into?
After some wrangling over French and music, Madame called Celeste to show Christine around the house. Celeste obviously did not want to have Christine trailing her; she grumbled on her way up the narrow back staircase, "Why on earth Madame hired you, I will never know. I mean, out of all the candidates, you were the youngest, least experienced, and a foreigner!"
Christine was tired of being told her short-comings. "Celeste, if you are done with telling why I should not be here, can I please retire to my room? I have to unpack."
Celeste rounded on her, blocking most of the staircase. "Listen, I am your elder and your better. You will address me as Ms. Islington as you will address any member of this household by their proper names. You are the governess, and you will be treated as such. Understood?"
Christine felt a giggle rising in her throat. "Must I call Sean and Robert 'Masters Donnelly'?" Celeste did not even answer her question, but continued up the stairs. Eventually, they came onto a landing of the second floor; here, Celeste began pointing out rooms of the house.
"This is Mistress Meg's room, next to the stairs, and Carlotta's room is two doors down. The master bedroom is on the left, next to the guest bedroom, which is almost never used." she paused thoughtfully, "'Cept where he is here."
"Who?" Christine asked tentatively. Celeste smiled nastily.
"Sir Garnier. Madame's brother-in-law. Goodness, he is supposedly absolutely hideous! I cannot even imagine how he was ever married." She smiled again. "But, then again anyone these days seems to be good enough, if they have money."
Christine wondered how a man could be as hideous as Celeste was saying. "How is he hideous?"
Celeste shrugged. "No one knows how hideous because he wears a mask on the right side of his face. But I think he will give you a shock, if he comes at all." She continued down the hall to the wide landing on the other side and continued giving instructions rapidly.
"This is the main balcony. You are not to be here or on the main staircase. You are a servant, and as such, you are to use the backstairs. Your room is the littler attic one, second door on the left. Dinner's at six, do not be late." She went down the wide staircase, leaving Christine alone with the whirlwind of instructions.
She retreated to the backstairs and climbed to the attic level. Pushing the door at the top of the stairs open, she came to a large sitting room of sorts with four doors on the wall. She pushed open the door on the left cautiously. Her room was small, but had been nicely decorated with a vase of flowers. A note was on the small bedside table. Sitting cross-legged on the bed, Christine read the loopy script.
My dear,
I hope you like the room. Lizzy is across the hall from you, and the boys are next to he. Missus Cranky is next door, and I kip on the divan in the sitting room. We in the kitchen take afternoon tea at five. Come join us if you want.
Tonia
She smiled at the kind words; she liked knowing that she had allies in the kitchen. She rose to unpack, but her carpetbag was empty. Checking the battered dresser, she realized that Sean and Robert had unpacked her clothing, albeit untidily. She retrieved one of her slightly creased dresses and changed from her traveling clothes. Retrieving the brush on her dresser, she attempted to calm her wild brown curls; after losing that battle, she bundled her hair into a semblance of a bun. The fading afternoon sunlight illuminated the blue comforter of the bed and the overstuffed yellow chair in the corner. Christine smiled. She could live here.
The clock on her bedside table quietly chimed five, reminding Christine of afternoon tea. She went to the stairs and down the two flights until she was in the small passageway that divided the kitchen from the main hallway. The clamor of the kitchen could again be heard.
"Robert!" Lizzy's agitated voice rang out. "You spilled the milk everywhere, haven't you? I just don't know what to do with you." Christine came to the door of the kitchen to find Lizzy holding a squirming Robert by the ear.
"Out with you! Go and play with Sean in the garden. Oh!" she looked up suddenly. "Miss Daae…"
"Please, call me Christine. I am not Miss Islington after all." Lizzy giggled before shooing Robert out.
"Ye mustn't mind her. Thinks she rules the household that one does. But Mum invited you for tea, come on." Again, she ushered her into the breakfast nook and brought to cups of tea to the table.
"Lizzy, I have to ask you something," Christine began, "When Celeste was showing me through the house, she mentioned a Sir…" Lizzy looked uncomfortable.
"Garnier?" Christine nodded. "It would be like her to gossip. He's Madame brother-in-law. Or was, when her sister was alive." Seeing Christine's face, Lizzy hastily added, "Oh, don't worry. This happened over ten years ago. I-I don't the whole story, but…"
"I don't want to know anyone private business." Christine cut in. "It's not my place." Lizzy smiled, thinking what a change this was from Nanny's prying.
Missus LaGrange came in with a laden tray of empty tea cups and saucers. "Oh, there ye are! I was hoping ye'd come down fer a cuppa with us."
Lizzy cut in hastily. "Mum, Madame High 'n Mighty told her about Sir Garnier. And on her first day too!" Missus LaGrange looked troubled as she set the tea tray down carefully.
"Christine, my dear, I don't know what Lizzy told ye, but… don't ask 'bout him. Please, for Madame's sake more than anything else."
Christine nodded. Who was this man that attracted so much fear in the household? As the other women chattered on, Christine knew this would plague her until she found out.
Tea progressed, ending with a quiet meal in the kitchen for the servants. Mister Geory apparently was working late again, which Carlotta complained bitterly about. After helping Lizzy wash up, Christine retreated to her room and was fast asleep before she knew it.