Chapter 20

A smell filled her nostrils. The acrid smell of burning wood and smoke. A scream and the sound of breaking glass sent her and Erik out of bed. He shoved the curtain aside as the white light of flames lit up the dark room.

"What is it," Meg asked running to the window. The sight of fire eating it's way through the front door and the windows below them, sent her backward. She knew without a doubt that Jean had found them.

"Get dressed," Erik shouted, throwing her his night shirt as he dressed.

"How are we going to get out," she cried, hurrying into it. "All downstairs is burning!"

Erik opened the balcony doors and nodded at the old oak tree just outside. "We'll climb. We'll jump if we have to! Hurry!"

As Meg ran to join him on the balcony, she remembered the coat in the armoire. She pulled the doors open, dragging it out behind her, and threw it over the balcony. Erik stepped over the railing and made the short leap onto the bough of the oak tree. He hooked his leg over the thick bough, and straddled it.

"Meg! Come!" He held out his hands, as she followed him onto the bough.

They stared down from their safe height as the fire licked its way up to the second floor. Erik looked down at the distance to the ground.

"We'll have to jump," he shouted.

She looked down, and felt herself panicking. "It's too high!"

"We have to do it! Once the fire reaches the bedroom, it will burn this tree down. We have to!" Erik carefully planted his feet on the bough. It was just wide enough to allow him to stand and get his balance. He nodded his head for her to follow.

"Hold onto me!"

She tightened her arms around his neck, and shut her eyes as he locked his arms around her waist. Then they were in free fall. Seconds later the ground claimed them. Meg opened her eyes, and rolled off Erik as he grabbed his left arm, grunting.

"Are you alright," she asked, her hands all over him.

"It's just my arm," he breathed, struggling to his feet.

Again, they heard Lysette's screams.

"Monsieur! He's here! Hurry! Please!"

Meg grabbed the coat off the ground, and followed Erik to the front of the house. Jean was on top of Henri, beating his face with his fists as Lysette screamed for them.

"Take Lysette and run," Erik shouted. "Go!"

Meg grabbed Lysette's arm and dragged her away. "Lysette, hurry!"

"No! Henri," Lysette screamed, as Meg pulled her out of the gate and down the path.

As they ran, Meg saw Erik pull Jean off of Henri. Then Jean pulled a knife out and charged towards Erik. She stopped, frozen as Jean jabbed the knife into Erik's right arm. He continued fighting him as the bloody seeped through his shirt.

"We have to help them, " Lysette pleaded.

Meg looked down at the coat in her hand, and knew what she had to do. She threw it on the ground and dug into the lining, grabbing blindly for the rope of gold chains. Ripping them out of the lining she ran back through the gates with Lysette behind her. Erik was now on the ground and Jean's back was to them. This time, she wouldn't let him get away with what he had done. She grabbed the long chain at both ends and rushed up behind him. Throwing the chain over his head and around his neck, she pulled back hard, twisting it into a tourniquet. He grabbed at it, chocking and fighting to throw her off.

"Lysette," she screamed.

Lysette followed Meg, grabbing his arm, trying to force the knife out of his hand. Meg tightened her grip on the chain, twisting it with all her strength, as he began sinking to his knees. She and Lysette followed him down, as he grew weaker. His chocking gasps stopped and his body went still. Then all was silent. Meg didn't let go of her grip on the chains around his neck, as Lysette put her ear to his chest.

"He's dead," she whispered, her eyes wide.

Meg let go of the chains and crawled back away from him. The shock kept her body locked in place as she stared at his lifeless body.

I just killed a man.

Then Erik was beside, his voice in her ear.

"You did what you had to do. That's all..."

"What are you going to do now mon ami? Return to Paris? I heard from a friend in Rome that their opéra's corps de ballet is looking for a new prima ballerina."

She smiled at Labreau as they walked around the blackened shell of Maison Azalée. She wouldn't tell him that there was a certain opéra diva in Rome they wanted to avoid. "I think we're going to remain here."

"I can't say that I'm not pleased to hear it. Perhaps, I will eventually persuade you to return to the corps."

"Not just yet," she said. "As you can see we will be preoccupied with the rebuilding of the house."

"Have you heard from Gilles," he asked.

Meg's smile was more of a smirk. "He came yesterday and did quite the Mea Culpa. He insists on paying for the rebuilding of the house, and for the cottage we're staying in down the lane."

"Keep taking advantage of his guilt, I say," he laughed. "How is Monsieur De Laval?"

"Healing, and doing well," she said. "We all are."

"Well, the way this ended was God's doing, as far as I'm concerned. The fact that Hollier burned alive in the fire he set is pure justice."

Meg nodded, and extended her cheek for their customary goodbye. "I should get back to Erik."

"Speaking of, when am I going to finally meet this mystery man of yours?"

"Soon. I promise. Au revoir mon ami."

Two Years Later

Madame Giry took in her first sight of Maison Azalée from inside Labreau's carriage. She glanced at her escort with a proud smile and back again at the approaching house as they rolled through the gate. The front doors opened as Meg ran alongside the carriage. It barely stopped when she pulled the door open, and Madame Giry hurried out into her arms.

"I can't believe you're finally here," Meg cried.

Madame Giry grabbed her face, kissing it all over, tears spilling out of her tired eyes. "You're still so beautiful! Motherhood suits you!" They embraced and began their walk into the house as Labreau attended to her luggage. "So where is my granddaughter?"

"She's sleeping. But, I have no doubt she'll be awake soon and ready for her next feeding."

Madame Giry looked up at the grand chandelier over her head, and the highly polished floors under her feet. "This isn't like the old opéra dormitory is it?"

"It's a world away. Come sit, and rest. Lysette has set out some of her chicory coffee and beignets."

Madame Giry removed her hat and sank gratefully into the soft leather settee next to Meg. "I don't suppose Gilles will be joining us?"

"He wanted to give you the choice to see him, or not," Meg said.

"And I don't," Madame Giry answered shortly. "What he put you through is unforgivable as far as I'm concerned. I don't know how you or Erik can allow him back into this house after all he's done."

"He knows that he was wrong, and he is very sorry. His new wife has been a good influence on him, I think. You would like her."

Madame Giry rolled her eyes as she handed Meg a cup for her coffee. "He's going to have to do more than rebuild this house in order for me to take him seriously. It was the least he can do, in my opinion."

Labreau entered, dragging Madame Giry's trunk behind him with Henri following awkwardly behind him. Meg raised her brows at him in question.

"I told him I would bring it in, but he insisted," Henri said, rolling his eyes.

"I wouldn't hear of it," Labreau said, smiling broadly at Madame Giry. "It is my pleasure to assist you in any way I can."

Meg smiled at her mother. "How was the carriage ride from the boat to here? Did Labreau talk your ears off?"

Madame Giry gave an almost girlish laugh. "Not at all! It was nice having his company. So many stories and friends we share in common."

Forgetting the trunk, Labreau quickly joined them. "I was also telling your mama that we could use her expertise during rehearsals for Massenet's Le Cid. The corps is a disaster without your daughter, Madame. Having you there would be an honor and a great help."

Meg gave him a look of warning. "She just stepped off the boat and you're already putting her to work?"

"I would love to," Madame Giry said. "After all, you don't expect me to sit around and do needle point every day, do you?"

"Forget what I said then," Meg sighed. "You two continue your chat. I'll go upstairs to see if Lucia is awake."

As Meg started upstairs, Labreau took a closer seat next to Madame Giry.

"Your daughter has become my like my own daughter."

Madame Giry smiled. "She has nothing but affection for you. I appreciate your care for her."

"Of course," he said, his voice dropping to a whisper. "What do you think of Monsieur De Laval?"

Madame Giry's smile was measured. "He's been a friend to us for many years."

"Their marriage must have come as quite a surprise to you," he said.

"Yes, it did," Madame Giry sighed gazing upstairs. "Erik is a complicated man."

"Mysterious, I would say, but kind. I didn't meet him for almost a year after they were married. When I finally did, I knew immediately why. Poor man, having to wear that mask. That fire did so much damage to their lives. I feel for him, having to live like a recluse."

Madame Giry made no move to correct her admirer's assumption about Erik's mask. "Indeed," she said, taking a sip of coffee.

Meg found Erik at his usual station. Pausing at the door, she took in the scene before her. Erik staring so lovingly down at their daughter's cherubic face as he continued to gently rock her. She walked up behind him, setting her hands on his shoulders.

"Mama is here," she whispered.

"I heard the carriage drive up. How is Labreau? Has he proposed to Antoinette yet?"

Meg cupped her hand over her mouth to stifle her laughter. "Not yet. But, it may happen before dinner. Are you ready to see her?"

Erik lifted his shoulders. "I know she isn't entirely pleased with our marriage."

Meg leaned down and kissed him gently. "And there isn't anything she can do about it. I'll send her up. I know she's ready to see both of you."

"It's been a long time, my old friend."

Madame Giry joined Erik at Lucia's bed. Both of them stared down, completely enamored with the little girl that, like her mother, linked their lives together.

"I am glad you are finally here," Erik replied, his eyes still set lovingly on his daughter. "She is perfect, isn't she?"

"She is."

"She's Meg."

"I'm sure there is a bit of you in her as well," Madame Giry said. "Time will reveal that, I'm sure. Come, let's step out onto the balcony and let her sleep."

Erik opened the balcony doors, as Madame Giry was greeted by gardens filled with azalea's and roses. She breathed in the fragrant humid air as Erik came to stand beside her. Both knew it was time to step into the discomfort of an honest conversation.

"I realize that you weren't happy when you learned that Meg and I were married," he began.

"True," she admitted. "I trusted you to protect her during the crossing, and then move on. My request to protect her wasn't meant to extend beyond that."

"I never planned on any of this. My feelings for Meg were unexpected as were her feelings for me. I didn't pursue her. It all just unfolded this way."

"I suppose I found it hard to believe, knowing your history."

"Let's not bring Madame de Chagny into this."

"I have to know. If Christine set foot in this house tomorrow, how would you feel?"

"The way you would feel if that old lover of yours, Brantome, showed up, I'd imagine," he sot back.

She sighed. "Don't put up your defenses, Erik. I just want to know that your love for my daughter is true. Not just some infatuation that would change on a whim, or if Christine came floating back into your life. You do know that she is currently in New York City with Raoul. And there is talk that she may even decide to perform in other cities around the country. She may even come to New Orleans"

"The I wish her well," he breathed. "A voice like hers should be heard. Not stifled in some old chateau in the backwoods of France."

"I need for you to promise me that if she were to ever show her face in New Orleans, that you would stay away." Madame Giry's keen blue eyes bore into his, demanding an answer.

Erik met them without flinching. "It would be a promise easily made. I love Meg, and I would never leave her and Lucia to pursue Christine. That part of my life and everyone in it is behind me. That is what I want, and that is the way it will remain."

The look on her face told him that she was somewhat satisfied. "Bien. Then we are finished with this discussion."