A/N -- Chicketieboo - It's FUN stumping you!!!! *Huggles*

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Chapter 15: Passions

Seven months passed. Marguerite continued to be at least a little jealous of Isabelle every time the young woman came by the house for lessons. She stuck to Erik's side possessively if she was in the house during lessons, refusing to let the older woman get close to him. Erik actually found her behavior a bit of a relief, because it allowed him to keep his mind on the lessons, and on the precious child at his side. It kept his mind from misbehaving when faced with Isabelle's beauty, which never failed to make his pulse race. He believed that it had to be lust he felt, for there was little warmth that he felt towards his pupil.

He did realize that she was a naturally flirtatious young woman, which only heightened her bold nature. Yet, she seemed oblivious to her behavior when she was flirting with him. With each lesson that past, her boldness increased. By the end of the seventh month, he'd totally forgotten the shy little thing he'd met back at her fathers' estate. She was quite the fiery young woman, although he tried desperately not to notice it.

Financially, Erik could not see how the family could have been more secure. By the lessons he gave Isabelle, alone, he earned 9,600 francs per month. He also made 12,000 each month as the Opera Ghost, as that was his new salary. Madeline earned 250 francs working as a painter at the Opera House, and he earned 500 each month as the principal tenor. He would earn more once he'd been with them for a year, but the managers were still anxious that he might just be a short-lived success. When he was there for a year, he would earn 800 a month. Yet, as it was, he and Madeline brought in 22,150 francs per month.

His relationship with Madeline didn't change for a moment the entire time they lived together. She was simply the mother of the children he loved so dearly, and actually a very good friend. Sometimes they ate lunch together when the breaks for rehearsals took place. Every night he'd come home to her delicious suppers and that was, basically, the most that they interacted. Sometimes they'd do things with the children as though they were a true family, yet their feelings never altered towards one another.

The love he'd once felt for Christine had finally begun to alter itself into a deeper more enduring love that had the foundations of friendship rather than obsession. When he was not having lunch with Madeline, he usually joined Christine instead. Every morning before rehearsals, he would tutor her voice just as he was tutoring Isabelle. They were constantly flirting with one another when they were alone, but both knew perfectly well that nothing was meant to come of it. As the date for Christine's marriage to Raoul grew closer, she even asked him to attend, and possibly give her away. Erik was only too honored to accept her requests.

It was late on a Wednesday afternoon when Erik concluded a lesson he'd been giving Isabelle, and dove into a composition he'd begun a few days earlier. Madeline had taken her three children to a fair that was in town for the week, and thus he was alone to fend for himself for supper. He had taken to having Isabelle let herself out in the past month or so, because often her father would be in the carriage waiting for her, and he did not like how the man glared out at him when he kissed her hand good- bye. That was why he was surprised when Isabelle came back into the parlor, clearing her throat to catch his attention.

"The carriage hasn't arrived yet." She told him quietly. Erik lifted his eyes to her slowly, taking in her beauty once again. She wore a crimson gown of velvet that hugged her figure nicely, flatteringly. The bodice had long tight sleeves, pinched her waist a bit, and had a low- scooping neckline. It was the most revealing thing he'd ever seen her wear. Usually she was so conservative.

"Why don't you wait by the door, then?" He asked, clearing his throat halfway through the question to gain control over his traitorous voice. "I'm sure it won't be very late. It never is."

"It will be tonight." She pointed out. Reaching up, she pulled a ruby and gold comb out of her hair, which had been gathered up to the top of her head. Yet removing that single restraining come, her auburn hair tumbled down over her shoulders and over her back. The sight made Erik catch his breath, and he looked down at his hands quickly. "My fathers' out of town on business this week. I paid the driver well to make certain he had an unfortunate delay in picking me up until after nine o'clock tonight."

Erik shook his head slowly, closing his eyes, and letting out a shaky breath. He refused to look at her. Most women who wore their hair down in front of gentlemen were trying to be seductive. She looked seductive standing there like that. The words she said only enhanced the illusion. Nevertheless, Erik was certain he was taking the situation the wrong way. If she was seducing him, then she might very well be disappointed.

"Isabelle, try and make yourself a bit more presentable." He told her sternly. "I am a gentleman."

"I wasn't aware that gentlemen couldn't feel." She said angrily. Her tone took him off guard, and he looked up at her quickly. She was only two feet away. He hadn't even heard her approach. Was his heart beating that loud? So loudly that it drowned out the sound of her footsteps? "Is that what it is, Erik? Is it that you can't feel anything at all? Do you think I flirt with any man at all?"

"I did not think you did it intentionally." He confessed. "None-the- less, Isabelle . . . I . . . your parents trust me to be gentlemanly and to respect you as a lady. I do respect you as a young woman. It isn't that I don't feel anything. It's that I don't feel the right things, and that I could never dishonor you even if I did."

She looked like she was going to say something. Yet, her eyes finally softened. She walked around behind him to sit on the piano bench next to him. She sat down where Marguerite usually hugged his side. Her hand covered his on the keys gently.

"You're very good at lying to yourself." She whispered into his ear, making him shuddering. Erik thought the woman had a great deal of brass. If she wanted to try to seduce him, that was one thing. Yet getting so close might cause her a great deal of harm. "Madeline spoke to me briefly after Monday's lesson. She said that she too has seen how you look at me. Of course she said that you'd realize how beautiful I am, and appreciate it with your eyes. Yet, she's seen more than hunger and lust in your eyes. So have I."

"Isabelle, you don't know what you're talking about." He insisted fiercely. "If your carriage is going to be so late, I will hail you a cab."

"Erik, don't you understand a damn thing?" She hissed, standing quickly. "I am not just trying to seduce your body. I am not trying to be mean-spirited by seducing you. I want to be yours."

"Oh . . . good for you." He murmured quietly. "I'm not trying to hurt you either, Isabelle. I am not going to be seduced by you. I am not going to dishonor you. I am not going to ruin your parents' trust in me. You have no idea how much trust they're putting in me letting you come here when we're going to be alone without a chaperone!"

"That's the point!" She insisted, flinging up her hands in exasperation. "Don't you realize that, Erik? They trust you, so they'll have no idea! My father would never let you court me, Erik. Don't you know that?"

"Of course I do." He replied more quietly. "That's why I can't do this. If we cannot court, then we cannot marry. If we cannot marry, I cannot . . . love you. If I cannot love you, then most certainly I cannot take your offer!"

Isabelle sighed, shaking her head.

"You're an honorable man, Erik. I've known that from the beginning." She breathed. "Please . . . Can you honestly say you feel absolutely nothing for me at all?"

"No." He replied, his voice barely audible. "I won't say I feel nothing at all for you. I'm not a liar anymore than I am a lecher."

"Do you know that I'm engaged?" She asked suddenly, again taking him off guard. "I certainly don't want to marry the idiot, pompous, old brat! He's twice my age! I don't want someone I deplore taking this from me. I'd rather it be someone I care for."

"You don't love me." Erik said simply. "You care about me as your teacher and perhaps as a friend, but you don't love me. That's even more reason for you to walk out of this room right now."

"I do love you." She replied passionately. "Erik, please believe me. I thought you must surely have realized it. The reason I behave the way I do around you is because of how you make me feel."

He shook his head. There was a very long and painful silence. There was nothing more he could say. He refused to change his mind about refusing her. He was flattered. Now, he could even say that he was pleased. Honestly, he wasn't in love with her, even though he did care deeply for her welfare and happiness. Still, he did not love her. Not the way he had loved Christine. He highly doubted he would ever love someone that way again.

"Good night, Isabelle." He finally whispered. "I will see you on Friday."

"Erik . . ."

"Go!" He stood up, and walked away from her. "Get out of here, Isabelle!" Her perfume and her beauty were getting to him. Love or no love, if she kept this up, he would be unable to control another part of him. Something he'd never let take over before.

"I will not get out!" She retorted with just as much fury. He felt her hands take his shoulders from behind. "Surely you have to feel something more than what you're admitting to, Erik. You wouldn't so passionately refuse me if you didn't care about me this much. Erik, please! Listen to me! I don't care about righteousness or propriety! I don't care about whether or not my parents trust you! I trust you!"

He was shaking violently. Dear God, if she did not stop. . ,

"Go . . ." He pleaded one more time. When she didn't move, he closed his eyes tightly, and very slowly turned around to face her. "Isabelle, you flirt with the devil."

"If the devil can move my heart as you can, then so be it." She breathed.

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Marguerite was enraged when she came home that evening, and Erik's door was both closed and locked against her and Fleur. Not once had he ever missed tucking her in. Not once; and now she couldn't even get into his room to wake him up. There was no reply when she pounded on his door and tried to get him to open it. Madeline had to sit with her in bed for hours, waiting for her daughter to calm down and go to sleep.

She was angry with Erik that he would lock his door against Marguerite. It was something totally out of character for him. Perhaps he was ill, and did not want her to be exposed to whatever it is he had. That was possible. Maybe he wasn't even home. It was impossible to tell. There was nothing but silence coming from his room.

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"So . . . what happened last night?" Madeline looked up from the kitchen table as Erik took his turn in cleaning the breakfast dishes. She was sipping a hot tea with lemon that Erik had introduced to her. "Marguerite was inconsolable. She's going to be absolutely furious with you this morning."

"I . . . needed time to myself." He said uncertainly, looking towards the doorway to the kitchen, making sure the mentioned twin wasn't there to listen in on their conversation. "Actually, Isabelle left very late last night. I had to sleep. I didn't want to lock my door, but didn't want Marguerite to wake me up."

"Liar." Madeline scolded. "You know you can't lie to me."

"Well, Isabelle did leave very late last night." He said insistently. "Don't worry about the rest."

She nearly dropped the cup she was holding between her hands. Her mouth fell open as she stared at the back of his head in amazement.

"You have got to be kidding me!" She gasped. "You and Isabelle?"

He sighed, shaking his head, laughing almost silently. He didn't seem so much happy or proud as he did reluctant.

"Isabelle and I." He whispered softly. "I can't teach her anymore. It would be out of the question to even see her again. She wouldn't give up. She wouldn't leave me alone about it. Now it's too late, really, to stop her. She just doesn't understand. What she's looking for is impossible to keep up. I can't give up my own honor as easily as she can her own."

"I do hope you're joking." Madeline laughed. "What is going on in your mind? If Isabelle sets her mind on something, she gets it, and you know that. She'll go home and tell her parents what you did with her last night, and there will be a regular shotgun wedding, just like they do in the southern states of America!"

Erik laughed aloud at that.

"Marguerite really is going to kill me." He murmured. "I swear to God she's going to kill me. She hates Isabelle!"