A/N - sorry for taking longer to update than normal. I was at away this weekend and I didn't have time to write.

This is kind of a filler chapter that sets up for the next.

--xxx--

Without a lead singer rehearsals sed mainly on orchestrations and dance. When needed a stagehand would read Lucy's part and the singing would be rehearsed without her contributions. Many members of the cast found it difficult to remain focused under such conditions, with a flyman reading for the female lead and the vocals being ignored, rumblings of discontent began to spread.

There were whispers among the cast that the production would close before it opened, and although Meg was never fully privvy to the cast and crew's observations she was aware that the consensus was thatit was unprofessional and tempting fate not to have an understudy for the lead. Having worked with Carlotta Guiducci for most of her life Meg was accustomed to such things, but judging by everyone else's reaction it seemed such a practice was highly unusual.

The main focus of the criticism was Erik. At first every member of the cast and orchestra were excited to work with the renowned Erik Destler, they toletated his perfectionism, scathing remarks and judgemental looks in return for being in orbit of his genius. Lucy's departure had changed that; their forbearance faltered now they believed their livelihoods were on the line, but Meg knew there would be only one reason why Erik hadn't allowed an understudy and based upon his current behaviour she understood that reason to be Christine.

Meg was on the way back to her dressingroom when she overheard small group of the cast and orchestra talking about going to the pub. As she passed Simon Tannason, the first bassoon, asked if she wanted to join them, but seeing the scathing looks passed between three of the chorus members Meg gracefully declined before continuing on her way, making sure she didn't increase the speed of her step.

"Why'd you invite her?" one of the female voices carried up the corridor, "you know what type of woman she is"

Although Meg didn't hear the rest she assumed they spoke of their belief that she slept her way to the top. It wouldn't have taken much digging to find out that she had been engaged to Oliver and subsequently to Erik, or about the scandal associated with their engagement. She knew they believed she used sex to manipulate men in positions of power, and like Erik many assumed that Gilles was (at best) courting her, or (at worse) bedding her. Either way, they believed she was undeserving of her role.

Such rumours and acaccusations were one ofn he several things her mother had been scared of; sleeping your way to the top may not have been nepotism but it was akin to it. And even though the rumours were not true, she was aware of the damage they could do to her future prospects. She wasn't looking forward to enlightening her mother about her current situation; she would be glad the engagement with Erik had ended, as she was concerned the pair were becoming too close, but she would certainly be angry about the rumours curculating among her colleagues.

When Meg entered her dressing room she didn't notice Erik causally reclining in the chair on the far side of the room, running one of her ribbons through his fingers. He liked to think light fingered pilfering was now above him, but.old habits died hard, and beyond Meg's engagement ring he didn't have any of her pocessions. Upon her entering the room he quickly wound the ribbon around his fingers and placed it into his breast pocket.

Meg was sitting at her dressing table removing her hair pins before Erik spoke. His suddenly announced presence caused her to startle and she accidently pushed one of the pins into her scalp.

"You danced well".

"Thank you", she said touching the stinging location on her scalp before inspecting the blood on her fingers

"You're bleeding", Erik said, moving quickly across the room. He took her wrist, turning over her hand to look at the sticky red liquid on her forefinger.

"It is nothing to worry about", she said dismissively while pulling her hand from his grasp and turning back to face her mirror, "but Erik, unless there is a pressing matter that requires my attention I must ask you to leave. I need to change. I am meeting some friends from the cast and orchestra"

Her response caused Erik to smirk. He had warned her not to try and manipulate him. "Dont lie to me Margeriette", Erik's tone was firm, like a school teacher reprimanding a pupil, "don't forget you told me that André and I are your only friends"

"Actually Erik", Meg spoke as she turned to face him, "I said that André was my friend"

"And I have told you that I don't like you seeing him". He was standing behind her and had put both his hands on her shoulders. He felt her muscles tense under his touch so he released his grasp.

"Why?".

Everytime he mentioned André she asked why he cared, and everytime he answered truthfully. He cared about the production and he had sacrificed too much to protect her virtue to allow her to throw it away on an affair with Gilles André. He was reluctant to admit the twinges of jealousy he felt when he saw the pair together, their casual friendship pairndning him of the one he once had with Meg, he also wouldn't admit the churning feeling in his stomach whenever he thought of Meg and André engaging inhmore intimate behaviour.

"I have told you before Margeriette. And, I do not like repeating myself"

"Neither do I. have already asked you to leave"

Erik ignored her comment, instead focusing on her continued preference for André's company over his own. It had not been long ago that the blonde ballerina chose his company over others, but now she was treating him in a simular vane to others. Now he felt bitter.

"Are you worried about the whisperings among the cast? Me being here while you change will fuel their belief that you earn your position on your back ", he said with his characteristic condescending sarcasm, "Why not add credence to them? I doubt Monsieur André would be adverse to sharing."

Her hand met the face of his mask with such force she knocked it askew and Erik let out an audiable gasp. "I don't know what game you are playing Erik, but I have had enough. How dare you speak to me like that and make such unfounded insinuations!" she had risen to her feet and pointed towards the exit, "leave".

"Are such comments unfounded? You do seem to be spending an insurmountable amount of time in André's company",

"How dare you!", Meg replied turning away from him in a desperate attempt to try and hide the tears she could feel burning behind her eyes. Within moments she felt Erik's arms encase her and she turned her body into his, resting her cheek on his chest while Erik gently patted her back while stroking her hair.

"shhhh", he hummed, "I'm sorry - my words were unkind". I wanted to add that he knew they were unfounded, but he feared they were not, "I am a cruel man Margueritte. Don't forget the things I am capable of".

Erik wasn't sure why he had spoken to Meg in such a way, but he knew the root cause of his current poor temprement was André. It would only take ten days, two weeks at most for the Doweger to be dealt with, and fmom that point onwards Meg would no longer need the company of Gilles André. It was in her best interest.

--xxx--

The de Chagny drawing room held an ominous air, the seats had been organised in a semi circle, with the Doweger Comtess in the centre with Christine and Raoul either side. Raoul knew he should protest being summoned in his own home, after all he is master of the house, however he felt he had more pressing issues to deal with: primarily that the production currently didn't have a lead singer and without one he wouldn't be able to break free from the fiscal hold the de Chagny estate had over him.

Neither Raoul nor Christine knew why the Doweger had summoned them to the drawing room, nor did they know why two servants were standing in the far corners or why the staff in question had been told to "silently observe" what was going to occur.

The lack of refreshments in the room made Raoul feel uncomfortable. His mother, who idolised formality and propriety, would never sit in the drawing room with other adults and not have a pot of tea to hand. His mother had even brought her favourite tea service with her from France, so the current situation was very unusal.

"Shall I call for some tea?" he eventually asked in an attempt to ease the growing tension in the room.

"This shan't take long, so we won't be needing refreshments" his mother answered before the butler entered the room with the upper chamber maid, Lizzie, following.

The butler stepped aside allowing the maid to stand alone in front of the Doweger, giving a curtsey before waiting to be addressed. Both Raoul and Christine exchanged confused glances before the Doweger spoke

"You have been hiding and taking my things". It was a statement, not question, and an accusation that could result in the young woman on the street.

"N..n..no", the maid stammered, "I haven't. I wouldn't" she protested meekly, clearly intimidated by the eldest woman in the room. Raoul noticed how she was clutching the sides of her skirts tightly as a way to prevent her gesturing with her hands, and he felt a pang of pity. The woman was clearly nervous and was trying to control her emotions.

"Several of my oils have been taken, my creams and my perfumes have been moved around the room then replaced once I have searched everywhere. You are a theif and a liar who is trying to ammuse yourself by confusing me".

Her mother-in-law's accusations reminded Christine of the tricks Erik would play on the managers and Carlotta. She quickly glanced to Raoul to see if he had made a simular comparison, but her husband's eyes remained focused on his mother and he made no attempt to hide his displeasure at the events unfolding.

"Mother, why would she do that? Lizzie is a dilligent worker and neither Christine nor I have been dissatisfied with her work".

"Well, answer your master", the Doweger directed while gesturing to Raoul, which wasn't what Raoul had wanted. He relaised that his mother had the other servants in the room to witness Lizzie's interrogation so they could pass the warning onto the other staff members.

"I haven't stolen. I haven't moved your things. I promise", she replied before turning to Christine, "please madame, I promise"

"Raoul", Christine started. She wanted to speak to him alone to furnish him with her suspicions, but she was cut off by the Doweger dismissing the most senior de Chagny chamber maid and the woman collapsing to the floor in tears.

Christine felt overwhelmed by the scene unfolding in front of her when the maid fell to the floor begging her employers to reconsider while proclaiming her innocence. Their butler tried to haul her to her feet, but the woman's dead weight and the butler's age made it a difficult task. She could see him speaking into the woman's ear, likely reminding her of her place and asking her to compose herself, but Christine couldn't hear. She knew that Lizzie's dismissal, without a reference, would likely end with her on the street and possibly in a slum or whore house. She knew intervening would increase the tension between herself and her mother-in-law, but she couldn't be responsible - even partially- for someone being on the street.

"Lizzie, go to your room and someone will speak with you shortly", she instructed causing the young woman to stumble into a standing position and hurry out of the room while trying to calm her tears.

Once she had left and the other servants had been dismissed Christine braced herself for an onslaught, but instead of the Doweger taking charge and chastising Christine Raoul took the opportunity to remind his mother of her position in the household.

"Mother, you cannot dismiss the staff in my house. Lizzie will remain but will not service your room". His words caused his mother's face to pale, and Christine couldn't help but smile. She wanted to throw her arms around him once the elder woman had angrily stormed out the door. But she didn't have the chance, Raoul had slunk down into the large wing-back chair in the corner of the room and was rubbing his temples.

Seeing her husband's frustration Christine decanted a glass of whisky and handed it to him. She decided it was in his best interest that she didn't share her suspicions about Erik.