A big thanks to all of you who reviewed and/or put this story in their favourites/alert lists. I hope I will not disappoint! :)

Casting notes: You can imagine Edward as slightly older brown-eyed Clive Owen with a 19th century beard. :)

Other notes: I have taken some liberties with the buildings mentioned. National Gallery of British Art (today known as Tate Britain) was opened in 1897, but for the sake of the story, it's a few years earlier. And as for Savoy Theatre, it was opened in 1881, but in my story it will be 1883. :)

Previously:

The driver climbed down from his seat and held the carriage door open for her, holding out his hand to support her as she climbed into the dark carriage. The door shut behind her at once and she busied with arranging her skirts and cloak around her, feeling her heart pounding loudly in her chest as she felt the man's presence in the enclosed space.

"I apologize for my tardiness, Monsieur. My name is Anna and I will be your escort tonight." She tried to look for him but her eyes haven't adjusted in the dark yet. When he didn't reply, she tried again, hesitantly. "Monsieur? Sir?"

"You are the last person I expected to enter my carriage, Vicomtesse."

Chapter 4 - The Gallery

Christine froze at hearing her former title and then her heart nearly stopped.

That voice.

That voice that haunted her dreams; so achingly, hauntingly familiar. There was no malice in that voice, just a genuine surprise. Her heartbeat redoubled its pace as he tapped the roof and the carriage set to motion. She had yet to see him but there was no doubt in her mind that Monsieur Garnier and her Angel were one and the same. Finally her eyes adjusted and she could see him in all his glory. A black half-mask covering his deformity, his black clothing impeccable - from the black cravat and brown vest with golden stitching to the fitting trousers encasing his long legs, his intense gaze resting on her.

Since Raoul's death she spent many a night thinking about what she'd say to her Angel once she saw him again, but now that he was sitting across from her, every word stuck to her throat.

"There is no Vicomtess, Monsieur. She died with her husband." She saw his visible eyebrow lift but he didn't say anything; he didn't even make a comment about his rival's death. Christine drew the cloak close around her as silence fell between them.

"Very well." He leaned towards her, the moonlight from outside caressing his uncovered features. "Erik Garnier at your service, Miss."

"Anna Renaud." She said softly, timidly holding out her gloved hand, letting him drop a kiss at the back of it, his eyes never leaving hers. She swallowed hard at his intense gaze.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Anna." To her surprise the corner of his mouth quirked into a smile as he continued to hold her hand gently.

"Likewise, Monsieur." She blushed and withdrew her hand. Even in their game of pretense she couldn't suppress her attraction to him and deny the pull he had on her. Soon the carriage came to a halt and the door swung open. Erik climbed out first, holding out his hand for her to take as she climbed out after him. They both took off their cloaks and left them with the driver in the carriage. She took a good look at the brightly lit building they were now standing in front of and her jaw dropped a little. It was beautiful, every little detail perfect, from the glorious portico to the imposing sculptures on the roof. She heard a chuckle next to her and turned to Erik, who was looking at her.

"Do you approve?"

"It is beautiful. You designed this?"

"Yes. Welcome to the National Gallery of British Art." He offered her his arm with a flourish and she took it without a second thought. "Shall we?" He began leading her up the stairs and Christine found herself smiling as they entered the gallery. If anyone would ask her why she was smiling, she'd say she was happy to have her Angel beside her once again.

The interior of the gallery was no less beautiful than the outside and Christine looked around in wonder as they mingled among the crowd of businessmen and upper class Londoners in the beautiful octagon room. Several people nodded to Erik in greeting with a smile, to which he politely inclined his head and smiled lightly. It was rather odd to see him among the society like any other man. Still, there was a certain stiffness in the way he carried himself and she could feel him tense a few times when people looked at them with interest. She cast a sideways look at him, which he noticed.

"Forgive my restlessness, I do not feel comfortable in large crowds."

"It's alright, I understand." She did understand more than anyone here and Christine wondered if any other escort girl would understand had she not been chosen. She doubted it and saw the slight twitch of his lips as he fought a wry smile, probably thinking along the same line.

"I despise most social gatherings but if one wants to be a successful architect, they need to appear in public once in a while. Or so my solicitor tells me."

"Erik!"

"Speak of the devil..." Erik murmured to himself as a tall, cheery, brown-haired man with a moustache approached them. "Edward."

"I was wondering if you were going to come."

"I was merely saving myself from your verbal lashing lest I did not show myself." Edward broke into a wide grin and then his eyes settled on Christine. Erik immediately noticed and hurried to introduce them. "Where are my manners? Edward, this is Miss Anna Renaud. Anna, my business partner, solicitor and friend in one person, Edward McNeil."

"Pleasure to meet you, Sir."

"The pleasure is all mine, Miss." Edward gave her a charming smile and she tried to mask her blush as he kissed the back of her hand. She completely missed the mischievous look Edward gave Erik. Erik narrowed his eyes.

"Is your wife not joining you, Edward?" Erik asked politely but Edward sensed a warning in his voice.

"Not tonight, I'm afraid. She was complaining about her upset stomach and tiredness."

"Well, it is not unusual in her condition." At Christine's confused look, Erik explained. "Isabelle is with child."

"Congratulations, Sir."

"Please call me Edward." Christine nodded and smiled politely. She was beginning to like this man. Edward gave her a warm smile and then turned back to Erik. "My wife insisted that you should join us for dinner on Friday. It has been too long since we all dined together." Casting a quick glance at Christine, he added. "Maybe you could take Miss Renaud with you; Isabelle would love to have a woman to talk to. Apparently there are things she can't discuss with me."

"You know how I hate to disappoint your wife, Edward." Edward and Erik shared a secret smile and there was a warmth in Erik's eyes she's never seen before. She masked her confusion with a smile of her own and listened to their conversation with interest.

"Good, then that's settled. We shall expect you at seven o'clock."

"Mr. Garnier, Mr. McNeil, Miss." A short older man approached them with a smile and there was another round of introductions to Erik's business associate, Mr. Williams. Christine was pleasantly surprised that Erik had made a life for himself, even though he still seemed to prefer seclusion or just a small company of his friends.

"How fares my theatre, Mr. Williams?" Theatre? Christine looked at Erik with a mild worry; surely he wouldn't revert back to his haunting ways when he had become a successful architect, would he?

"Oh, just splendidly, Mr. Garnier!" The smaller man beamed at him, nearly clapping his hands in delight. "Your advice proved to be invaluable. The lead female soprano is magnificent."

"I'm glad to hear it." Erik smiled, genuinely, and Christine wondered if the Opera Populaire would have improved had the managers listened to the Phantom's advice. As far as she knew, his demands were never that unreasonable. She knew that Monsieur Reyer appreciated the Phantom's advice regarding the orchestra, and even marvelled at the complexity and uniqueness of Don Juan Triumphant.

"Erik designed and owns the Savoy Theatre." Edward leaned toward her to explain quietly and she nodded with delight, happy for her former teacher for getting the recognition he deserved. "He's rather brilliant." He winked at her and she blushed lightly. Yes, she knew how much he could be.

"I have found that Mr. Garnier is a man of many talents." She said softly, without thinking. Edward's eyebrows rose and she chanced a quick look at Erik, who was staring at her with a mix of disbelief and amusement at her rather risqué response. After a few seconds of silence, Edward chuckled in amusement, slapping Erik's shoulder with his hand. Erik's visible eyebrow rose dangerously, but Christine could see he was suppressing a smile. She thought she'd never get used to such sight.

"Excuse me, Miss Renaud, gentlemen." Mr. Williams spoke up and three pairs of eyes settled on him. "Would any of you join me at the buffet table?" Both Erik and Christine shook their heads, while Edward nodded readily.

"Now that you mention it, I am rather hungry. Miss Renaud. Erik." He smiled and the two gentlemen left, chatting amiably. Christine smiled and looked at Erik, who seemed to relax slightly during the encounter with his friends.

"They seem like good people." She remarked, slipping back into French, feeling more confident in her mother tongue.

"They are." He nodded with affirmation, gently laying his hand at the small of her back, leading her through the crowds deeper into the museum among the exhibitions. She didn't recognize most of the names associated to the displayed art, but admired their beautiful work nevertheless.

From the corner of her eye Christine watched Erik's profile as he studied the art with a critical eye. Her eyes followed the unmasked side of his face, the angle of his jaw and the line of his strong neck, his straight nose and dimpled chin. It occurred to her then how strikingly handsome he really was. Had he not been born with the deformity, would they ever meet? Would he help her in achieving her dream of performing on stage by training her voice to perfection? Would he fall in love then as well? Would she?

Shaking herself from this train of thought, she turned her eyes back to the paintings. However, soon her eyes and thoughts strayed again to her companion, now further away from her, the black of his mask now in her clear view. In a way she was glad for his deformity. She wouldn't wish on anyone all the horrible things he must have gone through in his life. No, her reasons were purely selfish. Despite all his past transgressions and the things she said to him and about him, she was glad to have met him and she couldn't and didn't want to imagine her life without knowing him.

Still, Christine was quite unsure of how to behave, now that they have been reunited. In the carriage it seemed they were going to pretend not to know each other but she knew her curiosity was greater than that. She had so many questions to ask him. How did he escape the mob in his lair? What had led him to England? What life has he led in between now and then? Why did he never tell her his name before?

Her eyes searched for him, noticing Erik talking to Edward again around the corner. It was clear that Erik was the same man, but something about him was different now. He seemed calmer now, almost...happier. Swallowing, she turned from admiring The Decline of the Carthaginian Empire by Mr. Turner and made her way over to them, stopping when she heard they were talking about her.

"I see you took my advice. Miss Renaud..."

"I don't know what you're talking about." Erik interrupted, looking away and Edward laughed, slapping Erik's shoulder.

"Miss Renaud is a very beautiful lady. You should make her your exclusive."

"Exclusive?"

"Pay extra to make sure no other gentleman gets to enjoy her services." When Erik said nothing, Edward prodded more. "Erik, it would do you good. I'm not suggesting that you court her, just enjoy the company of a lady. It's been too long and I know she has hurt you badly, but that's in the past." Christine frowned at Edward's words and saw Erik's face fall. Did Erik tell Edward about his past in the Opera? About her? "What Sarah did is unforgivable but she's not here anymore, you left her." Sarah? Who was Sarah?

"Show the society that even a recluse like you can find a beautiful lady."

"I am a recluse by choice, Edward."

"I know." Edward chuckled and the two fell into silence. Christine noticed that most of the crowd's chatter ha/s died down and an elderly gentleman was giving a short speech in the octagon area.

"Go up there and do your part, Erik." Christine heard Edward say.

"You know how I loathe this, yet you still make me do it."

"Maybe you will make an impression on your companion."

"I do not want to impress anybody." Christine smiled to herself and the smile only widened as he rounded the corner and walked past her in a huff, not even noticing her.