Thank you to everyone who has reviewed, read, followed and favored this story. I am always beyond delighted when I see a review pop into my inbox. Please keep them coming!

While last week's chapter focused on our super couple, I stand by the fact that there was plot in that chapter and foreshadowing. The question is did you pick up on it? Yet I have one reviewer who seems to think I need to throw in the de Chagnys to add in the plot. Hmm… Well, if you want them back, I can oblige. LOL

As I must keep telling myself, I own nothing….

Erik awoke with a still sleeping Christine nestled securely in his arms. At first, he thought he was still dreaming. In all his 35 years, he had never woken up with another human being before; least of all one as beautiful as his sweet Christine. Yet there she was, still sleeping soundly. Erik had never felt so safe and warm before. He wondered if she knew that when she asked him to hold her while she slept, she was actually holding him.

The previous night had been difficult at best, however Erik could not recall any nightmares. He was sure he would be faced with some but then again he had stopped before he told her of his life with the gypsies. Perhaps he could shield her from that part of his past. His eyes went to her hers and he couldn't resist kissing the top of her head. Her hair smelled of lavender and it was completely intoxicating. He knew he could stay this way forever. However it was in that moment that he realized Christine would never allow for half a story. She wanted to not only know all of him but to have him trust her.

It's only fair after all. I know of her past, even the past she knows nothing about. He began to feel guilty. It's her life; she has a right to know what became of her mother. Why Annie chose to hide the truth from her, I'll never know. What good is keeping her in the dark?

Christine turned on her side and Erik kissed her cheek, unable to resist its softness. He then smiled when she opened her eyes and a sleepy smile graced her lips.

"Good morning, angel. That is a perfect name for you, my love. If I ever had a shred of doubt before, your sleeping form is more than enough proof to substantiate my claim."

Christine kissed his right cheek and then sat up and slowly signed out the words to good morning. She had insisted that Erik teach her the rest of the alphabet after he finished telling her about the last night he spent in this house as a boy. She desperately wanted to calm him, as she knew the memories troubled him so. She thought that by allowing him to be the teacher once more, it would give him the sense of control he had always sought to maintain. Besides she had been so compelled to ask him questions, she knew she would be out of writing paper in no time.

Erik smiled at her determination. True, she made a few errors but she was communicating and trying. That was all that mattered.

"I have an idea, if you are agreeable, my dear."

Go on. She smiled as she knew she signed that phrase perfectly.

"Why don't I draw you a nice, hot bath and while you soak, I'll prepare our breakfast. Nadir assured me the food pantry was stocked. I do hope he did at least that much. After all, I can hardly see any changes to this place, other than…"

She touched his face when she saw him going back to thoughts of the attic.

Angel, are you alright? I never thanked you for…. She huffed in frustration. She couldn't remember how to sign the rest without taking what seemed like forever in her mind.

Erik sensed her impatience. "It takes time, Christine. Practice will make it perfect. Besides, you don't always have to sign. I'm not taking away the notebook. And we all know how much you love your journal." He winked.

Her eyes widened. She desperately looked for the notebook and as if on cue, Erik handed it to her, awaiting her wrath.

Erik Dexter! Do not sit there and tell me you read my journal? Those are my private thoughts. Please tell me you didn't…..

All Erik could see was Christine burning a hole in the pad of paper. "Christine, I know what you are going to ask me and I assure you, I did not invade your privacy. Your journal is downstairs, presumably still in your pursue. Look at me. I never left your side last night. The way we were clinging to one another, it would have been impossible to leave without your knowing."

She stopped and thought for a moment. She then remembered how their bodies were very close together. In fact, she also remembered a rather enticing feeling wash over her during the night when she felt his rather muscular torso pressed up against her, causing her body to feel a little restless and warm…. No, not warm….feverish. She quickly got out of bed.

Erik was about to say something, when she pointed to the bathroom and closed the door.

Erik scratched his head in confusion. "Christine, I do hope you believe me." He got up and shook his head. "I'll make breakfast. Come down at your leisure." I wonder what happed all of a sudden.

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Christine closed the door and tried to calm her thoughts. Fortunately, she was able to hide her blush until she was in the bathroom. She then let out a laugh but caught herself before her voice had time to feel discomfort.

What would Bets say now? Wasn't I supposed to be shying away from such thoughts? Didn't I at one point think such thoughts as impure? Didn't I think a woman should not feel such things or wish for such brazen acts? She grinned. To think at one point, I thought having these feelings for my angel were wrong and sinful. These feeling are natural and wonderful. She had realized she was getting a bit excited all of a sudden. This was the first time she had ever shared her bed with someone, least of all a man. Yet she wasn't ashamed or scared. Nervous, maybe. Yet they had been so engrossed with Erik's past that there was no time for nervousness. All she wanted was to be close to him, to hear him breathe and to feel his heartbeat next to hers.

She then thought of tonight and the night after that and the next one. Wasn't this what was going to happen between the two of them eventually? She loved Erik and although she could never marry him legally due to Raoul's hideous act, she saw him as her husband. Wouldn't all marital activities then be granted to both of them? That is what they both thought would happen, when they agreed to run away together and start a new life, isn't it?

It isn't a sin. In my heart, I am married to him and I always will be. If God can't accept that as a marriage, then maybe…Maybe He can't accept me. She looked at herself in the mirror. She seemed more mature of all of a sudden and she never looked more certain. I hope He can accept it but if he can't, I don't care.

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Erik was busying himself with breakfast when the realization of all he verbally told Christine last night came back to him.

"She heard everything about my time here and she never looked embarrassed. She didn't shy away from touching me, not last night or this morning. In fact, she held me tighter and even moved her body closer to me." Erik coughed to keep his thoughts under control. Don't be a brute, Erik. She was comforting you, it wasn't sexual. Christine has to focus on her recovery and then….. Well, we both need to agree what comes next. We can never legally marry… What if that prevents her from….. It doesn't matter. She is with me and we have one another. It's enough. It's more than Madeline ever thought I would have in my life. Hell, it's more than I ever thought I would have.

Yes, Erik did hope that Christine would want a stronger physical relationship with him. In his eyes they were married. However, he knew she had gone through so much that the last thing she needed to deal with was his beastly urges. He would keep himself in check. He had to put her needs first, now more than ever. First, they needed to get her well and safely out of France. Then….. He would think about that another time.

Meanwhile, Christine soaked in the hot bath, still thinking about all Erik had gone through at such a young age. She calculated that he had to have been about eight years old when he ran away from home. The memories of his past brought tears to her eyes. She stayed strong last night, for she knew tears would not be welcomed by Erik. Instead she listened and she held him. She could sense his eyes on her, looking to see if she started to view him differently. The truth was, she couldn't believe all his strength. A lesser man would have given up on life but he still went on and he was only a boy.

Erik had told her that he never knew Charles Dexter, as he died a few months before he was born in a work accident. Apparently he was an expert architect and from the painting, he was quite handsome. Erik had only heard stores growing up that his father was beloved and rich. He fell in love instantly with Madeline and the two wed. Yet Madeline was a bit spoiled and her beauty caused everyone to give into her whims, especially Charles. When he died, she was devastated and it was only the birth of her child, whom she prayed would be a boy that kept her going.

Madeline went through a very hard birth. When the baby was born, Erik said he had heard from his godmother, Marie and from the priest who had helped deliver him that she cried out for her baby. She cried out for baby Charles. Yet once she saw what was brought to her, she screamed and fainted. He told her if it hadn't been for the priest, he is sure his mother would have left him nameless.

Christine had wanted to inquire more about Marie but her lack of signing ability and not wanting to disturb Erik's rendition, kept her curiosity in check. Instead, he briefly mentioned the attic and his first mask, noting that Christine was already well aware of those factors. He said he discovered his appearance on his fifth birthday when after he begged for kisses, Madeline forced him to look in the mirror for the first time and reveal his corpse like face.

Alone in the bathtub, there was nothing stopping Christine from crying now. The memory of how Erik described that moment, would tear at her heart forever. It wasn't just the cruelty of his mother but how in his confusion he thought something was coming after him and how he tried to destroy the creature, only to be met with sharp pieces of glass. His mother did nothing to stop him! Only Marie helped him remove the glass from his hands and face.

Christine wiped her tears but soon sorrow turned to anger when she recalled Erik telling her that he had gotten his hopes up to attend a private school for gifted children and how the family priest urged him to submit his drawings and even fought with his mother until she consented. Yet the dream of finally being accepted was short lived.

"I never went to the school, Christine. The headmaster had wanted to meet such a brilliant child and the priest had to tell him of my…..affliction. Needless to say, my application was rejected."

Just the memory of the story made her blood boil. How could they be so heartless? So cruel? So prejudiced?

Christine's thoughts drifted back to how he began to shy away, afraid that he wasn't worthy. She kept a tight hold on him and then found herself moving intimately closer to him, kissing his neck and tracing the light fabric that covered his chest. She remembered hearing Erik moaned slightly and the redness rushed to her cheeks. She recalled how he spoke rather raspy afterwards.

"I can stop now, Christine. It's been a long day and…"

She shook her head and mouthed the word more.

He hesitated for a moment but then went on. "A short time later, my mother met a doctor and she seemed very smitten with him and him with her. One night, there was an accident. The children in the neighbor had somehow gotten Sasha out of the house." He paused realizing he never told her of his dog before. "She was my only friend. She would sleep with me in the attic. She never cared what I looked like…..." He forced himself to continue, not wanting to think of his beloved pet. "The children found her and they hurt her. They did it to try and get me out of the house. They used her to hurt me. They thought I would come outside and thus they could amuse themselves for a few hours while they called me names or attempted to throw things at me and watch me bleed or run or worse…. Cry."

That was the only time, Christine could not hold in her emotions in front of Erik. Her tears fell and Erik did his best to ignore them, only seeing her cry hurt more than the pain he went through that night. "They killed Sasha and I was found lying in the street. The doctor found me and brought me home. They had me lying down in the parlor, thinking I was asleep. That's when the doctor told my mother they could have a happy life by leaving this town and getting married. However I would not be part of that new life. He told her to choose. It was either the handsome doctor or the child of Satan."

Christine didn't have to ask the question. Erik's eyes told her the answer.

Erik sighed. "That's when I left. I had already ruined her life for years. Besides, at least by running away, I regained control of my life. If I had left it up to them, I would have been sent away to an institution and …. No, she didn't deserve to have me be her problem anymore."

Even now, the story still made Christine feel as if she were hearing it for the first time. She wanted to leave this woman's house immediately. To think she would even consider giving up her child? She forced herself out of the tub and as she dried herself, the look on Erik's face came back to her mind after she had written the final question for the evening in her notebook for him to answer.

Why did you wish to come back here? Why when this house holds so much pain for you? How could I be healed in a place that torments you so?"

"Because she thought enough to leave it to me. It is the one act of motherly love she ever showed me."

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Phillip and Isabella entered their bedroom. He was rolling his eyes as he jumped onto bed, loosening his cravat. She on the other hand kept huffing and mimicking the words of her father-in-law.

"Honestly, Phillip, how can you stand his endless chatter about Raoul? Raoul this and Raoul that. Does he not recall what a scandal your ignorant little brother left our family in? He married some Swedish nobody, who is following in her mother's footsteps, only instead of being a paid whore, she gives herself to that murderous gargoyle and then he leaves the country for us to handle."

"Stop it, Isabella. I just heard father all night through dinner, I don't want to spend the evening hearing your endless nagging!"

She ignored him, as she took off her jewelry in front of the vanity mirror. "To top it all off, she is supposed to be unconscious but no, she ran away with the devil and not only do we have to deal with it but all your father can do is think of poor Raoul! Can't he think for a moment about how you will have to deal with this shame once you are the Comte?"

"Isabella, let it go. Dr. Ronzert will find out where they are and once he does, we'll handle it."

"Exactly! We'll handle it, like always and your precious Raoul will go with no scars to show from it as always."

"I'm the older brother. Besides, I will be the one to inherit the title and thus the money. Raoul will have to atone someday."

"That someday seems to be lagging on forever. Do you think I like having to flirt with that pea brain of a doctor or anyone else your father wishes to whore me off to? If Ronzert had done his job, she would be dead by now and we wouldn't have to rely on him any longer."

He sat up, swinging his legs to the floor. "Is that what has you so sour? You don't like compromising your marriage? Oh Isabella, be still my beating heart." He mocked her and then went to pour himself a drink.

"If you ask me, death is too good for her."

Phillip took a sip and then went over to his wife, pulling up a footstool so he could sit beside her. "Drink."

She took a sip. "I'm serious. Even if she dies, we still have to honor her as member of this family."

"And the alterative would be?"

"Denounce her for the slut that she is!"

"You are forgetting that she could tell someone that Raoul left her for dead."

"Rubbish. First off, she didn't die and secondly who would believe her? If I had my way, I would track her down and then….."

"Then what? Come now, I was getting intrigued." He began feeling up her leg.

"That's it!"

"I'm not quite there yet, darling but give me a moment. How I love your enthusiasm."

"No, you dolt! What if we find Christine and not only get her out of our lives but ruin hers so we are certain we will never have deal with her again?"

"Death isn't ruining enough?"

Isabella smiled wickedly. "Let's pretend that she doesn't know the truth about her mother. Yet really? She was raised in a theater for heaven's sake. That's barely one up from a brothel. However, I am willing to play along. Shouldn't I be bound to my loyalty as her sister- in -law to tell her the truth?"

"And what truth is that? It's only a rumor."

"Rumors can turn into facts. Besides if it is the truth or not, who cares? All we needs is the right piece of evidence substantiated."

"Okay, let's say it is true or at least true enough. So what? She doesn't want to be a Vicomtesse."

"That's what gets me the most! She doesn't want it and here it is, practically wrapped up in a box with a ribbon for her. If her innocence isn't an act, then this will kill her. Eat up at her. She will either curse herself for being found out or view herself as tainted. My God, that is even better! I bet there is even more to her story. There's always more to a story." She was practically bursting. "What if the truth is so scandalous that she couldn't bear having her precious Phantom affected by it?"

Phillip stopped trying to seduce his wife since he was obviously having zero effect on her. "And a murderer would care about his slut's mother being a whore?"

"No, I suppose he wouldn't but she would."

"Huh?"

"What if she thought he did? What if telling her this truth and exposing her for the damaged goods that she is, makes her think that no one would ever have her." She laughed again. "Not even a demon!"

Phillip shook his head. "You are remarkable. Yet there is one, insignificant, minor detail."

"The proof?"

"The proof."

"That my dear husband, is where you come in."

A/N: So is it now a race to see who learns the truth first? Will it be Nadir or Isabella and Phillip? And who will tell Christine? Will Erik reveal her past to her? How will she react when and if she finds out? Will she learn more of Erik's past? What will become of them the longer they stay in the same room and are they actually in Madeline's old bed? And last but by no means least, what other changes did Nadir do to the house? Tune in next week!