Celeste delivered the children back to bed after the performance, much to their displeasure. Once she was sure they were settled and supervised - she and Erik had hired a nanny as they got more involved in the music hall - she returned back to the hall, where a small party was being held to entertain and thank everyone who had made the performance possible.
Cast, families and patrons milled about, chatting and drinking and celebrating. She smiled warmly at the people she passed, thanking those that praised her and returning the compliments. It wasn't difficult to dance her way through the crowd, eyes scanning faces until she found the one she was searching for.
Her heart skipped as it always did when she spotted Erik, but then it froze in her chest as she noticed the woman he was talking to. Talking was an understatement, really, as she was practically draping herself over him, one hand on his arm and the other regularly tapping his chest as she talked, her face tilted close to his.
Celeste felt a cold, dark sensation spreading from her gut, like a slimy snake trying to wriggle its way up her throat. Her heart squeezed and fire flared in her mind as she watched this stranger fawning over her husband. Erik was clearly doing nothing to encourage the behaviour, the polite smile on his face strained and distant, and she knew him well enough to see the subtle ways he was turning himself away.
Yet that didn't make her feel any better.
Some cruel, angry part of her hissed that she should never have to feel jealous; Erik had never drawn attention from women, and she had never thought he would. Selfish and mean as it was, she had expected that she would be the first and only person to fall for him, and that had given her a sense of callous security. Evidently she was not alone in wanting him, however, and being forced to face her mean thoughts didn't help her mood.
Also not helpful was the fact that the woman was undeniably beautiful: she had shining auburn hair twirled into an elegant updo, a pretty heart-shaped face, a clearly expensive dress that gave her all the right shapes, and a bright ruby-red smile. She couldn't have been much older than Celeste herself had been when she first met Erik, over a decade ago now. It was also noticeable that she was tall and elegant; hers was a body made to be noticed. Celeste clenched her jaw as she realised that, while the woman was staring almost directly into Erik's face, she herself would look almost child-sized beside her.
Conflicted between forcing politeness or giving into passive aggression, Celeste plastered a smile onto her face and made towards the pair of them. Causing a scene would be unbecoming, but she wasn't going to shrink and run when she should be the one by Erik's side. This man was her true love, and this stranger had no right to try and disrupt that.
When the woman had approached Erik and struck up a conversation, he was surprised. When she had edged closer and started touching him, he was confused. Now that she was practically embracing him, he was downright bewildered.
He was trying to lean away from her for several reasons, not the least being that his mask was far less convincing at close range. The mask was not completely unknown by now - after so long spent around those working in the music hall, it was something of an open secret - but he didn't want to draw attention to it if he could help it. It had actually become a point of mystery among the company, something that promised to draw people to the hall in the hopes of discovering more. But no one else had seen under his mask, and he had no plans to reveal his secret.
Erik spotted Celeste nearing through the crowd, her smile as bright as ever but a storm brewing in her eyes. He felt both relieved and increasingly uncomfortable, given that the other woman didn't pause in her attention and that his wife had very clearly noticed.
"Celeste!" he cried when she was within arm's reach, relief winning out over awkwardness at the opportunity to pull away from the other woman and hug her instead. He purposefully pulled her into a long, tight embrace, pressing a warm kiss to her cheek and murmuring in her ear, "Help me."
Celeste's eyes narrowed a touch as he straightened up again, though apparently more from disquiet than annoyance at him. She turned to the other woman, extending a hand. Her smile was now blazing, but her eyes were ice cold. "I don't believe we've met," she said, her tone clipped and overly polite.
"Blaise Delannoy," the woman replied, her voice flat and practically a screech beside Celeste's soft melody. "My father is considering making a considerable donation to this hall, especially after seeing how spectacular tonight was." The compliment was clearly directed at Erik, because she flashed her smile at him as she spoke.
"Yes, well," Celeste said, her lips pursed. "My husband has done very well so far on his own merit, without handouts."
Either Blaise didn't notice the jibe or ignored it, because her smile didn't falter. Whichever it was, she continued directing her smile up at Erik, making him more uncomfortable by the second.
"I think I can see Évelyne waving to us," he lied quickly, putting a hand on Celeste's shoulder and feeling the faint shaking of her body - he had no doubt it was with animosity rather than distress. "Do excuse us, Mademoiselle Delannoy."
He hurriedly tightened his arm around Celeste's shoulder and steered her away into the crowd, pretending to move towards one of the other performers. As soon as they were out of sight, her smile dropped and her expression became thunderous once more. Erik's only reassurance that her anger wasn't directed at him was the fact that she didn't shake his arm off, but the doubt niggled at him that she was just keeping up appearances.
"How were the children?" he tried cautiously, keeping his voice low.
"Fine, though it seems someone wants to be their new mother," she snarled quietly back.
Erik noticed her hands fist by her sides, and swiftly reached for her other arm to pull her to a halt. He turned her to face him, and her fiery gaze stared right into his. "You know I have no interest in her - or the money she's parading around."
Celeste folded her arms, but again made no move to avoid his touch or pull away from him. "She's only curious about you because you're mysterious. She doesn't care about your music, or your talent, or you."
He fought against the grin tugging at his lips. "Are you jealous, by any chance?"
"No!" she snapped. Her jaw clenched. "Maybe."
"My poor little wife." He slid his arms around her, but she jumped back indignantly.
"Don't patronise me!" she hissed.
He laughed and held up his hands in surrender, knowing that she wasn't truly upset, and that the residual aggravation would soon wear off. "Forgive me. But believe me, I have no intention of running back to the vapid Mademoiselle Delannoy."
Celeste's gaze was still dark and hard. "The nerve of that woman…"
"I know, I know." Erik pulled her gently into his embrace again, not caring that they were still in the middle of the party, and this time she didn't resist. "Besides, what sort of a name is Blaise? It sounds like it should mean some sort of pale, bland colour." He glanced down and saw Celeste's lips twitch upwards, as he had hoped they would.
"Or a disease," she murmured against his shirt.
"Quite." He pressed a kiss to the top of her head, which she leant into before stepping back again, though not as though recoiling from him. "I really have no interest -"
"I know." She waved a hand to halt his explanation, looking suddenly rather tired. "I know, don't worry. Suddenly seeing her like that… it was just a bit of a shock. I do trust you."
"Good." He grinned teasingly. "Then I've successfully hidden my other four mistresses.
She giggled, the last of her frustration slipping from her face, and he relaxed fully for the first time since leaving her dressing room hours ago.
"I am glad, though," he added more seriously. He took one of her hands and lifted it to his lips, knowing he had already been rather too public in his affection for polite society. "Do you want to sneak out and go home?"
Celeste raised her eyebrows, but a smile caught the edges of her lips again. "This is a party to celebrate your achievements."
He shrugged. "I know, but you're the only one I want to spend time with."
"Go on, then," she relented easily, grinning up at him. He was relieved to see the familiar happy sparkle back in her eyes again.
They surreptitiously made their way out of the room, grabbing coats and escaping back towards their house.
Erik held Celeste's hand tightly as they walked, relishing the soft warmth of her small fingers wrapped in his. Though Blaise Delannoy was certainly objectively good looking, he hadn't been lying when he told Celeste he had no interest in her.
Years ago, the mere glance of a woman's eyes would have stopped him in his tracks - especially a woman of that class and beauty - and he would have given anything to be looked at like she had been staring at him. Now, however, he could see the falseness of her smile, the over-eagerness in her eyes. Whatever she had was nothing to the true beauty he saw in Celeste, nothing to the delight he took in every familiar aspect of her.
It was odd to find Celeste being the jealous one, though. He was normally faster to jump to paranoia, easier to fall into doubt. The most notable targets of his jealousy had been Matisse Ramont and Raoul so long ago at the Opera House - though at least he had now got to know the latter and found him to be a decent enough gentleman. The fear he had felt at the idea of losing Celeste to either, however, had seemed very different to the fire in her eyes that night. His anger was cold and possessive, whereas her stormy protection appeared far more noble.
However, it was undeniably touching - not to mention somewhat gratifying - to see his blue-eyed angel turning green for once. A lifetime of being discarded and replaced had festered constant, deep jealousy within him, and it was quite something to know that she felt just as horrified at the idea of losing him.
And when he had someone so wonderful feeling so strongly for him, why on earth would he ever consider anyone else?