http:etext. the link for the dress that I describe. It's the one on the left. This has some questionable material in it. So I'll rate it PG-13.

Chapter 16

Le Vicomte De Concorde

A Day Later

She let herself out the heavy wooden door that led to the Rue Scribe and sighed as the early morning's sun flooded over her. Ever since Erik had fixed the stained glass window, no matter how he had managed to do it, the sun was blocked from her household now. The sound of birds chirping was alien to her, as was the smell that lingered in the air. It smelled of spring and of the fresh dew drops that glittered like diamonds in spider webs as the sun hit them. Inhaling deeply, as if to forever trap that scent in her mind, she set about on her way, almost certain that she would come home and find Erik still asleep. If he were to awaken there was a note sealed with wax lying on the kitchen table.

My Dearest Erik,

I have taken the liberty of enjoying an early morn walk. I shall be home before noon. I know my way about the streets, so please don't be troubled with my safety. I love you.

Yours Forever,

Christine

Erik twirled the note around in his fingers. 'Don't be troubled with my safety?' He could not help but be troubled. 'Still, she can leave whenever she wishes.' He reasoned, finally placing the note back into the envelope. When she did return, he would be here, waiting for her. Like a good husband, he would kiss her gently on the cheek and inquire as to how her walk went. Until then, he would remain calm by reading.

Christine fit right in with the early morning crowd this time. Her dress of red silk covered with a golden shawl kept her from receiving odd stares. As she went about her way, she stopped to stare longingly into various shop windows where only the finest dresses were made. La Belle Femme in particular, a quaint little boutique that sold ready-made dresses, caught her greedy eye. A most beautiful dress was displayed in the window for all to see. The dress fell to the floor and swept behind the mannequin's feet, a large bow was sewn in at the lower back; the colours of just the bow were breathtaking. The rest of the dress was made out of satin, in bright hues of royalty. Purples and golds and silvers wound through the dress, tapering off to a dark purple at the points where the dress nearly touched the ground. It was too fancy for Erik's lair and besides, the dress was long sleeved; much too hot for the coming weather. As she turned to walk away, a voice sounded in her ear.

"That would look remarkable on you."

"I beg your pardon Monsieur."

"Then I shall repeat what I said; that would look marvelous on you. The purple and silver one there." He extended a graceful hand towards the dress she had just been gazing at longingly.

"You are quite brash Monsieur."

"Excuse my rude behavior. I am Amaury, le Vicomte De Concorde."

"Well, Monsieur Vicomte, I am Christine." She held out her hand for him to kiss. His hands were soft, a sure sign that he had never known a day of hard labor.

He was reluctant to let go of her hand. It was as she pulled gently away from him that she got her first good look at the man who had no problems expressing his opinion. His handsomeness startled her. His eyes were a deep hue of blue and his hair was a light coffee colour. Locks of the luscious waves fell just above his eyes, hiding long eyelashes and perfect eyebrows. A tremor of recognition shot through her. She knew this man. She had met him at one of Raoul's dinner parties.

"Madame Christine, may I do you the honor of buying you that dress you had your wide eyes on?"

"Oh no Mons-"

"If you would please call me Amaury I would be much obliged."

"Amaury, I could never accept such a lavish gift from a man I just met. Besides, my husband would wonder where the francs came from."

"It could be our little secret."

"I would rather not keep secrets from my husband." As awful as it was, Christine was enjoying this banter; it made her feel alive. "Where is your wife?"

"My wife?" He was taken aback by her question. Glancing down at his wedding ring, he sighed. "Madame, I really don't know."

"I'm terribly sorry. Forgive me for my forward question." A blush crept up on her cheeks. "Now it is I who is brash."

"No, it's no matter. She'll be back when she wishes to. Since it's nearly eleven; would you care to join me for lunch? I would enjoy the company."

"Yes." Her answer caught her by surprise. "I must return home before noon though, my husband is expecting me."

The two walked side by side, a very handsome couple. Men turned to stare enviously at the Vicomte as he escorted the beautiful Christine to his favorite restaurant. As they walked their chatter filled the air, a light step appeared in Christine's step as this man treated her kindly and spoke to her as an equal.

"Bonjour Vicomte. Where would you like to be seated today?" The waiter smiled at Christine and bowed deeply towards the Vicomte. He was an aging man, streaks of gray peppered his hair and fine wrinkles had sunken his tanned skin.

"A table for two, perhaps you should ask Madame Christine where she would like to be seated."

At the mention of her name, Christine glanced up and noticed the two men were staring at her, waiting for her response. "Oh," she said breathlessly, "anywhere would be lovely. Maybe next to a window?"

"As the lady wishes." With a wave of his arm the waiter was weaving through tables upon tables of dinning friends and family. "Would this be suitable?" He stopped at a quaint table. It was metal, the legs and top were painted white and matching chairs sat next to it, plush cushions pillowed the seats.

"Yes. This is perfect." As she sat down, she was bathed with light as it streamed through the glass window. "So, Amaury, what do you order here?"

"The salmon filet with asparagus is delightful."

"I'll have that then, if it's not too much trouble."

With a snap of the Viscount's fingers, the slender waiter was at their feet. "Yes?"

"We are ready."

"Of course, what will you be dining on today?"

"Christine and I are both going to have the salmon filet with asparagus and your finest champagne."

"The usual?" With this, the waiter and Amaury shared a secret smile. It lasted only a second and if Christine had not been staring intently at her new friend she would not have caught it. It made her uneasy; there was something about the way he smiled that made her feel as if he took young women out to lunch often. What might happen to her next was a mystery…

"The usual."

They spent the whole meal in silence, interrupted only by the waiter's inquiries and the quiet scratching sound of silverware on empty plates.

"I must be going, it's nearly noon."

"May I escort you home?"

"I'm sorry Monsieur, but I can not allow that. If my husband saw me with you, he would be very angry at me."

"Maybe halfway home then?"

"Then you must leave."

"That 'tis quite alright with me. Shall we be off?"

"Yes." Christine purposely took him the opposite way of Erik's home and wound him around many a small street. An hour must of past before she dew attention to it. "This is halfway. Thank you very much, you are a kind man." She turned to walk away but was stopped by his grip on her shoulder.

"Where do you think you are going?" He was aggravated and his grip on her only tightened when she tried to pull away. As he yanked her close she could smell the alcohol on his breath. "You aren't leaving me, not yet. Not until you've paid me back for lunch."

"Please, please, I must go." She looked wildly around; no body was on the streets that could help her. Only a stray cat sat on the street, his tail twitching every so often as he serenely licked his paw. "I can meet you tomorrow with the francs, I promise. Just please, don't…No! Let go of me! Stop!"

"Shut up!" His hand stung across her face. "That's a warning. We don't want anyone to hear us, do we?" He placed a suddenly dirty hand on her delicate skin and groped at her inner thigh, his eyes were closed as he moved and his mouth moved, speaking incomprehensible phrases as his hand went up to her silk underwear then fell back to grip the fabric of her dress.

She screamed as he ripped her new dress, revealing Christine in one smooth motion. All of her pounding, kicking, and screaming could not stop this terror that was upon her.

"Stop! Plea-" Her world spiraled to darkness as a well placed blow struck her temple.