A/N: Ok, I must confess that this chapter has been written since the beginning of the week. I didn't have time to type it because I couldn't pull myself away from writing the chapter that comes after this one. I think you're going to like them...

~J

Raoul rented a modest cottage on the outskirts of town, far away enough to ensure privacy, but still close that it wouldn't be a bother when we needed something. Unfortunately with a title as noble as his, anonymity wasn't guaranteed for long.

We were greeted outside the cottage by Raoul's valet; who was evidently sent beforehand to secure everything, and a stout rather hardened older lady who would serve as both the housekeeper and the cook. Both were very trusted members of the Chagny household and had been with the family for countless years.

Raoul's valet opened the door to the carriage and Raoul climbed out, holding his arm out to me. I took it warily and followed him at a much slower pace.

The setting of the cottage was not as picturesque as the inn, but it was beautiful nonetheless. Its eves were trimmed in a rich brown, while the main exterior was a warm tan. Two chimneys protruded from the roof and large windows that no doubt let in vast amounts of natural light peppered the cheery façade. Behind the house, rows of aspens lined the edge of the property. Off to the left was the stable and carriage house.

"Welcome home Monsieur and Madame de Chagny," said the valet.

My head reared up, although the look in Raoul's eyes prevented me from saying anything. I bit back my indignation before it could boil to the surface. Raoul took my by the elbow and together we walked up the flagstone pathway.

The interior was stunning. The walls were paneled with mahogany molding, topped with a creamy eggshell white. The large staircase with its impressive balustrade greeted us as we walked through the door into the parlor. Through the doorway on the right I spied a rather austere sitting room with the latest style of furniture. The room was done in a heavy forest green, which brought out the opulent wood work in the crown molding and furniture. A large oval area rug in the same shade added warmth and tied the room together. Raoul had obviously spared no expense.

To the left was a formal dining room. Deep burgundy curtains hung from the windows and two massive silver candelabras sat at each end of a dark table that was large enough to seat eight. The cushions on the chairs were embroidered in the same rich fabric as the curtains.

Toward the rear of the house was the kitchen and living quarters for the staff. The back door was divided in two, with the bottom half closed while the top half remained open, letting in a great deal of natural light. I could smell bread baking in the oven. The dour cook pushed past us and shuffled over to the open hearth where she lifted the lid off a huge cast iron pot and stirred the contents inside.

Upstairs Raoul led me to my suite. Pretty wallpaper that shone and looked as soft as silk lined the walls. The four poster oak bed was covered by a delicate white coverlet and matching canopy, complete with two plush pillows. Thin, gauzy curtains covered the windows, which overlooked the snow covered yard and surrounding trees.

The minute he closed the door I spun on him.

"Madame de Chagny?"

He looked at me with infuriating calm and placed his hands on my arms just below my shoulders.

"Yes Christine," he sighed, obviously annoyed at my ignorance and lack of foresight. "I would rather not bring scandal upon us so soon after our arrival by making it known that we are living together in sin."

My anger simmered. He was right of course. But my insides twisted at the thought of being his wife. Even though it was not official, I was overcome with the intense feeling of betrayal.

"I would like you to consider making me an honest man," he continued.

"I can't right now Raoul," I said softly. "Please understand. I just need more time."

He squared his shoulders, rejection and hurt crossing his face briefly before he relaxed his features into a look of indifference.

"Raoul, don't…" I pleaded when he pulled away from me.

He mumble some excuse about seeing if the rest of the house was in order and then left me alone in my new suite with only my thoughts for company. I staggered the few steps to the bed and sat down with a heavy heart. How naïve I was to think that Raoul and I would just be able to carry on as if nothing had happened. But I didn't know this man, who spoke to me as if I were a child or part of his staff. Where was the warm, loving companion who would not hesitate to take me in his arms and kiss away my anxieties and fears? I missed his youthful charm and unsullied outlook on life. But worse than that, I was beginning to dislike the man he was presenting to me now.

With nothing better to do besides dwelling on my unhappiness, I decided to occupy my time by unpacking the cumbersome trunk full of my things. I soon found that the simple and mechanical process of putting myself to work eased the pain and let me focus on other things.

As I gathered the pile of dresses in my arms so that I could hang them in the armoire, something heavy slid from the folds and fell to the floor with a clunk. I shifted the weight of the stack so I could look down to see what I'd dropped. What I saw brought it all back. There on the hardwood floor was a simple gold band, the very same band that Erik had given me and made me promise to wear as a symbol that I was obeying the rules he set down; vows that promised I would remain faithful to him and my music, and allow no other distractions. I bent down and picked up the ring with fingers that shook. I didn't remember packing it, or the last time I'd even seen it for that matter. But there it was, shining up at me in all its untarnished glory. I dropped the bundle of dresses, not caring if they wrinkled, and held the ring to my chest as I sank to the floor and cried.

The days passed by slowly, as they inevitably must. Winter fell harshly on the small village, chasing the remaining leaves from the trees and covering everything with a thick layer of knee-deep snow. School age boys gleefully flocked to the neighboring hills with their sleds and younger siblings in tow. The unhurried way of life out in the country was a far cry from that of the fast-paced city of Paris. It reminded me of growing up in Sweden, and then later, on the shores of Normandy where Raoul and I used to run around as children, thrilling each other with bone-chilling ghost stories.

My health plunged along with the temperatures. I walked around the cottage like an automaton, seeing and hearing nothing. I wore the purple shadows underneath my eyes like they belonged there, and before too long I began to drop weight, becoming so thin that Raoul continually pestered me, asking if I was getting enough to eat.

Raoul's housekeeper, Gertrude, observed me with guarded civility that almost bordered on hostility. I think she was more than a bit resentful of being forced to relocate from the opulent Chagny mansion to this quaint country cottage and had chosen me on which to target her discontentment. On occasion though, I was able to persuade her to let me venture to the town market for the supplies she needed to prepare our meals. Raoul detested when I did so, claiming that it wasn't proper for a noble woman to run errands like a common member of the staff. I didn't care, however. It gave me a chance to leave the house and its oppressive atmosphere, and so I risked his anger.

"Christine."

Raoul strode purposefully into my room one blustery morning and closed the door behind him. I turned from where I was standing by the window and looked at him. In that moment my heart squeezed with regret. His normally sunny and cheerful disposition was gone and the naïve, wondering zest for life had instead been replaced by tired eyes and a sallow complexion.

"I feel that I have given you sufficient time to adjust to your new home," he began hesitantly. "And now I believe that the time has come for us to move on with our lives."

"What do you mean?" My heart began to beat with a warning.

"I have arranged for us to be wed in a small ceremony in a nearby town."

I tried to keep the fear out of my voice. "When?"

"Next Saturday."

I swallowed. Suddenly it was very hard to breath. Fortunately Raoul didn't seem to notice.

"Hopefully," he continued sadly, "after we are married and the pressure of living a lie is gone, you will start behaving as though you enjoy it here."

His words were laced with deeper meaning. I feigned a smile to reassure him, but the minute he was gone I promptly fell apart. Any woman would die to be in my position, I tried to reason with myself. I should be elated, even if Raoul's proposal was did come off more as an order and not a request. But I couldn't ignore the claustrophobic feeling of being trapped. Marriage was so permanent. And the idea of being tied to Raoul for the rest of my natural life was beginning to make me ill. It occurred to me then that I would never be happy with him, and in that moment of revelation I knew what I had to do.

I had to go back to Erik.

But how? If I took the carriage then Raoul's valet would surely take notice and it wouldn't be long before they put the pieces together and came after me. No, I needed another way to get back to Paris undetected, a way that would at least buy me a few hours time. A cab, maybe? No, that was no good. How would I pay for it? I looked around the room. My eyes settled on the case of my father's violin and my bottom lip started to tremble. Could I? There was no question of choice. I had to.

With shaking hands I quickly gathered the violin and my mother's jewelry and left the bedroom without a backward glance. I considered writing Raoul a letter of explanation, but in the end I just couldn't bring myself to do it.

I set them down on the last stair when I reached the bottom and headed for the kitchen. Gertrude was vigorously kneading bread dough when I walked in.

"Gertrude?" I said in a small voice. I didn't know why the woman intimidated me so much, but she did.

She grunted, but didn't look up. Instead she picked up the ball of dough and dropped it back down on the table with a resounding smack. I watched her sprinkle a bit of flour on the top and then she started the whole process over again. She ignored me so completely that I almost lost my nerve and went back upstairs.

"Do you need anything from town for tonight's dinner?" I asked.

She stopped pounding the dough and stared at me. Flour was streaked across her face and there was even some dusting the front of her mousy brown hair. Raising her arm she used her sleeve and wiped the side of her cheek. It only smeared the flour worse.

"I am in desperate need of some carrots for the stew, if you're willing to go out in that," she replied, resting her wrists, palms up, on her haunches.

"Anything else?"

"Not unless you can bring me back a new body," she cackled.

I heard the crack in her back as she stretched and twisted her plump form from side to side.

I smiled and took a step back toward the hallway.

"Would you like me to have Samuel get the carriage for you?" she asked, referring to Raoul's valet.

"No, thank you. I would prefer to walk."

She gawked at me as if I needed to have my head examined, but merely shrugged her shoulders. If she disagreed with me, she knew it was not her place to say it.

I went back down the hall and picked up my objects. Then I hurried out the door and down the steps before I could change my mind.