"You're certain of this?"

"Quite, Monsieur le Vicomte." Dr. Lebeau sat in a chair opposite Raoul's desk, a small tumbler of whiskey in his hand. "I've instructed her maid to give her the medication to help, but I'm not convinced she'll take it."

Raoul rubbed his face and sighed. "Is there nothing else we can do?"

"I'm afraid not. The shock of losing her ability to have children was too much for her mind to handle. It's not uncommon with young women such as your wife." He sipped the whiskey and considered Raoul for a moment. "She spoke of the Opera--"

"What about it?"

"Something... happened there, I presume? All she mentioned was losing someone in the fire."

Raoul stared at the glass in his own hands and nodded. "Scores of people died that night. She was friends with many who worked there."

The doctor's brow lifted with intrigue. "She was... an actress?"

"A singer," he corrected with a sharp look.

"Ah."

"What am I to do? Is there no cure?"

"There are treatments at my hospital--"

"No." Raoul cast him a dark look and gripped his glass of whiskey. "I will not send her there."

"Monsieur, please, I'm only trying to help you."

"Think of something else then," Raoul snapped. "Nothing good will come of her going to some damnable place like that."

Dr. Lebeau's face flickered with offense. "I can assure you, my hospital is the finest in all of France. We have the latest treatments--"

His words were cut off by the shattering of glass against the fireplace. A small burst of flame jumped into the room as the whiskey splashed over the coals, making the doctor cower in his seat. Raoul barely flinched though and turned to face the man, his eyes boring holes into him.

"I said no."

He blinked and shook his head, reaching to gather his things. "I'll see myself out, Monsieur le Vicomte." As Dr. Lebeau reached the door to the study, Raoul blocked his path and reached for a fistful of the man's shirt collar.

"You'll keep your damned mouth shut about my wife. Do you understand?"

"Monsieur de Chagny, please--"

Raoul's hand tightened and he gritted his teeth. "Do you understand?!"

Dr. Lebeau writhed in his grasp. "Yes," he coughed.

"Not one filthy word to anyone." Raoul released him and took a step into the hallway. "Or you'll lose your precious rat lab."

"It's not a rat lab, Monsieur le Vic--"

"Comte," Raoul said in a low voice.

The doctor stumbled over his words and stared up at Raoul. "You... oh. I didn't realize..."

"The next time you enter my home, Dr. Lebeau, I expect you to address me properly."

"Yes, Monsieur. My apologies, I did not mean to offend."

Raoul brushed off his weak apology and crossed his arms. "Louis will see you out. Good day."

"But Monsieur, I need to talk to--" The door closed in the doctor's face, and he took a step back with a start. His face twisted with anger and he cursed under his breath. "Spoiled little--"

"Beg your pardon, Monsieur?" The grizzled voice of Louis preceded his appearance in the dark hallway. Dr. Lebeau bit back his words and whirled to stare at the old butler. "My Lord said to escort you out. Your carriage is waiting."

"Please," he protested, "I need to see your lady once more."

"You may speak with the Comte about that at a later date, I care not. This way," Louis grumbled with a motion towards the grand staircase.