A/N: Hello! Thank you for all the reviews, everyone! This chapter is devoted to their first lesson together which proves to be...well i'll let you read it. Enjoy!

Chapter 6

It was crazy. The idea was idiotic. The really foolish part was that Christine had every intention of going through with it. Her mind was made up. She was going to appear at Monsieur Richmond's doorstep at exactly seven that very evening.

She had thought about it all day. There were countless things that could go wrong. What if she was caught trying to sneak out or back in? What if Monsieur Richmond decided that her voice was not worth the time or effort after all? What if his intentions were not honorable?

But hearing Francine scream at the servants hour after hour made up Christine's mind for her. She didn't want to be stuck in that sort of life. She didn't want to wait on her stepfamily till she turned grey, or get married off to an old man just for the sake of connections and wealth. She was going to take a chance just like her father would have wanted her too.

She had told no one of the lesson, not even Marthe. It wasn't as if they had the time to listen either. Marthe had finally been allowed back into the kitchen and everyone was cooking up a storm. Christine was pulled away from the hustle and bustle of the kitchen to help her stepmother with her new dress. They had retrieved it last night, after the bar incident. Francine was appalled to see that it was too big on her. For 30 minutes, Christine had to listen to her complain about the seamstress seeing her as "fat". It took all of her self-control not to punch her stepmother in the face. She would save that for Marthe when they finally were free of the Dawneys.

Alice was nearly as intolerable as her mother. She spent the day squawking about how she couldn't find her slippers or her stockings; both of which were found under her bed. Even Nathalie seemed apprehensive for the big night.

When the guests started to arrive at six, Christine was ordered up to her bedroom by none other than her stepmother. Christine believed she would never forget the look of pure annoyance on Francine's face as she spoke to her.

"I don't want anyone, not even one of the servants, to see you all night. If I so much as see a strand of your hair, you'll be spending the next couple of nights out in the streets." Under her breath she added. "Not as if you don't deserve it."

Normally, Christine would have argued, but she had plans for the night that did not involve her room or her stepmother's threats. She obediently ran upstairs and threw open her small wardrobe.

She once had dozens and dozens of pretty dresses and little shoes to wear. It appeared to be quite the opposite now. Christine diligently searched through her cabinet, looking for something respectable to wear to her voice lesson. If Monsieur Richmond still believed her to be a noble, it would be odd for her to show up in a servant's garb.

Christine settled on the same dress she wore the first time she visited the manor. She brushed out her hair and tied it in a cheap blue ribbon one of the servants had given her. She had no mirror to look into, not even a hand one. She remembered asking Francine for one when she was much younger. Her stepmother had just laughed and asked what an ugly girl like her would do with a mirror.

Getting out of the house wasn't difficult at all. All the guests were either in the ballroom or in the dining room where appetizers were being served. The servants were shuffling around from the dinning room to the kitchen. Still very cautiously, Christine snuck out the backdoor and out into the fields.

She knew what was happening to her and yet she couldn't believe it. It seemed entirely unrealistic that someone would like to teach her to sing. Especially someone as reclusive as Monsieur Richmond. It seemed almost too good to be true.


Monsieur Richmond paced back and forth in his music room. Every once and awhile he would steal a glance at the clock. It counted down the hours and the minutes for him. Now, there were only ten minutes left till she came.

Monsieur Richmond sat down on the piano bench, drumming his long fingers against the polished wood. He couldn't remember ever being so impatient. She was likely not to come anyway. What kind of girl allowed herself to be taught by a stranger – nevertheless by him!

But that voice…that voice that she had brought forth from her lips. It had so much potential that it nearly had made him cry out in longing! He knew he needed to teach her, and foster her voice to greatness. He could turn it into a voice that could make angels weep and turn sirens green with envy.

Hearing her at the tavern had been a pure coincidence. A wonderful act of fate. He couldn't bear the thought of that voice going untrained. As she sung, he had cursed the girl for not realizing her own potential and almost ruining her chance for greatness.

He couldn't let that happen; not after he had discovered her.

He had been at the tavern that night to sell the mansion to a potential buyer. Town-life was far too nosey for his liking and he damned the daroga for even suggesting it. The buyer seemed really excited about the sale. After all, the mansion was worth every penny of the outrageous sum it cost.

The deal had almost been cast in stone when her voice entered into his ears. That angelic voice hidden in a layer of mistakes and inexperience. M. Richmond had stopped short of completing his sentence to the potential buyer and turned his attention toward the young lady on stage. His golden eyes widened when he recognized her as the young noble lady that had snuck into his music room. He recalled her gentle appreciation for music.

At that moment he knew he couldn't seal the deal that would separate him from that voice.

M. Richmond glanced up at the clock. Two minutes. He turned his attention toward the piano keys and began to play to calm his nerves. He ordered himself not to become too hopeful. She wouldn't come. He had frightened her one too many times for her to trust him for a moment. He sneered. His face certainly wouldn't help the matter.

Five minutes passed until M. Richmond distantly heard the soft squeak of the door over the piano playing.

"M. Richmond," addressed Mme. Giry's voice. "Mlle. Daae is here."


He was playing again.

Christine didn't pay any attention to Mme. Giry's introduction. Her eyes were completely focused on the back of the man creating the beautiful piano music. It had been so long since it had graced her ears. How strange it seemed, that while her life was deprived of all music, his life seemed to be full of it.

He stopped playing, never turning around to look at them.

"Very well," M. Richmond said, his voice more melodious than she remembered. It was like silk; rich, deep, and seductive. "You may leave us Mme. Giry."

Christine felt Mme. Giry place a gentle hand on her back and encourage her to step into the room. After she did so, she heard the door quietly shut behind her. She was alone.

Alone with him.

Christine remained rooted to the ground, not knowing if she should be the first to speak. To her relief, M. Richmond stood up and turned to face her. For the first time, Christine seemed to realize the intensity of the man's presence. She had never realized how tall he was. His thin figure did nothing to take away from the authority he seemed to command. The right side of his face was still covered with a mask. This time it was the white, porcelain one that appeared to contrast his dark evening suit.

There was no sign of cheerfulness on his face. His eyes were not welcoming. They seemed to be looking over her and judging her.

"I'm surprised you came," M. Richmond said, breaking the awkward silence between them. He chuckled at his own private joke. "Then again you have proven to be a bit foolish at times."

His words made Christine go cold all over. Was he implying that his intentions were, in fact, not honorable? Christine glanced hastily at the door, hoping to be able to escape if it were necessary.

M. Richmond seemed to notice her uncertainty but choose not to point it out. He motioned for her to come to the piano.

"So tell me, Mlle. Daae," he said, as she hesitantly walked toward him and the piano. "What inspired you to give that little performance last night?"

"I…" started Christine, nervously. "My friends wanted me too."

The answer seemed enough for him. He sat down at the piano bench and placed his fingers over the keys. "And what made you come here tonight?"

Christine remained silent for a moment. She debated on whether or not to tell him the truth.

"I want music back in my life again," said Christine, quietly. "I…I love to sing but I haven't in awhile."

"And why is that, Mlle.?"

Christine shifted uncomfortably.

"My stepfamily does not like music."

M. Richmond clearly frowned at this. He just shook his head and played a chord on the piano.

"Mlle. Daae. While we have these lessons I expect you to follow all the rules completely. Are you listening very closely?"

Christine just nodded, wondering what she just gotten herself into. M. Richmond eyed her closely and continued.

"You will be on time for all the lessons. You will do only what I say and anything that I say. You will practice in-between lessons." He looked up at her. His cold eyes seemed defensive and the uncovered side of his face was tight and straight. "And you will not, under any circumstances, touch anything that I forbid you to. Specifically this." He motioned toward the mask on his face. "If you do the results would be disastrous. Do I make myself clear?"

His tone made her shrink back slightly. She nodded eagerly. Satisfied, he turned back toward the piano.

"Good. Now let's see where you are."

The lessons lasted for an hour and a half. There was very little communication between the two of them. He told her what to do and she did it to the best of her ability. But her best was clearly not enough for her odd, new teacher.

The first thing he had done was fix her posture and then they plunged into warm-ups. Christine noticed that he stayed clear of the high notes but chose to focus on her middle and low range. Christine didn't question him. She knew that would be highly unwise.

M. Richmond proved himself to be a tough teacher within their first lesson. So tough that Christine wondered if she had made the better of two decisions. Yes, his intent was to improve her singing. Why he wanted to was beyond her. Throughout the lesson, he gave no hint as to why her voice was special to him.

He just told her what to do and she obediently did it.

They tried sight-reading, which proved to be nothing short of a disaster. It was clear that M. Richmond was getting more frustrated with each note that she didn't hit.

"You've killed all your potential by remaining silent," he snapped at her, after she struggled through trying to match singing the notes that he played on the piano. "You mean to tell me you haven't listened to music as well?"

Christine shook her head, wishing the lesson to be done and over with. M. Richmond seemed ready to burst out into angry shouts. Yet all he did was tighten his hands into fists and release them.

"I think that is enough for today, Mlle. Daae," he said, sighing slightly at the nearly hopeless situation that presented itself to them. "You must understand I am not angry at you and this lesson. What irritates me is your lack of experience. Come back tomorrow at seven if you so choose."

Christine was startled that he still wished to give her lessons after their horrific experience today. She, herself, wasn't sure if she was going to come back and give it another try. Singing seemed like an impossible dream for her. It wasn't meant to be.

But just in case…

"I wouldn't be able to come at seven," said Christine. "I…My family…"

Her voice grew quieter still it died. Her teacher looked at her oddly, as if he too was surprised that she was willing to go on.

"Is there a time you prefer, Mlle?" he asked. He chuckled. "Pick a time and I assure you I will be free."

Christine caught the hint that he had normally had no one to see and nothing to do. She found it sad but didn't dwell on it.

"Perhaps at two?" suggested Christine. No one would miss her at two. Alice and Nathalie would be busy with their lessons and Francine would be out socializing. It was right after lunch and dinner wasn't for another couple of hours. She would be able to sneak out.

"If that is what you desire," said M. Richmond. He walked with her to the music room door to show her out. Christine couldn't help but notice the graceful way he seemed to move. She got so caught up with watching him walk that she didn't notice his golden eyes on her.

"Until tomorrow, Mlle. Daae," he said, opening the door for her. Before she was completely out of the room she turned back to him.

"It's Christine," she said, smiling slightly. She didn't like being called Mlle. Daae. Perhaps if he addressed her a little more informally the awkwardness and coldness between them would melt away.

"Christine," he said, nodding. For a brief second, Christine thought he was going to smile at her. To her disappointment he gave her a terse farewell and shut the door on her.

Perhaps the coldness was going to stay after all.


A/N: Yes, Erik is very stiff and awkward in this chapter. Prehaps he will loosen up a bit by the next? (wink) (And I'm getting sick of calling him Monsieur Richmond, so maybe something a bit ice-breaking will happen soon...)

I've been brainstorming about this fic. I sort of know the direction I want it to take and I know a couple of scenes I want to include. But I'm open for ideas! So if you have an idea that you would like to see then I'm open to hear it. You can keep on suggesting throughout the story, if you so choose.

Please review! As I've said it helps alot and it gives me an idea of what you guys want to see so I can work it in. Thank you!

By the way, I posted a cute, little one-shot. So if you want to check that out feel free too.