So we continued on as we had before that day of the fateful kiss.

"You said you had some ideas about how you would get our opera performed, Erik?"

"Yes," he nodded enthusiastically. "I have already put the wheels in motion. I shall give you instructions on the delivery of the manuscript which you must follow to the letter."

I started to become wary. Why was there so much secrecy and planning just to deliver our libretto and score to the Paris Opera House?

"Erik, you're not up to your old tricks, are you?"

"Why, whatever do you mean?" he questioned, all wide-eyed innocence.

"I mean that if our opera is to become a success, I want it to be a success because it is truly worthy of such. Not because it is part of the Phantom of the Opera legend."

"Just leave everything to me," he said mysteriously.


I followed Erik's instructions. I was to go directly to the office of Mssrs. Firmin and Andre and deliver it in person exactly at one o'clock in the afternoon.

While I was still forced to wear the requisite blindfold, at least we traveled to Paris in a carriage this time rather than on his monstrous horse, Mephistofeles. Once I could see, I realized just how much I had missed the daylight and the beauty of Paris. Before I had a chance to look back, Erik sped off in the coach, disguised in a coachman's garb. The plan was for him to retrieve me in fifteen minutes.

I admired the opulence of the Opera House as I made my way to the office of the management. Although I must have been in the palatial building hundreds of times since I had come to Paris, it never failed to take my breath away. There were dancers about in their tutus giggling and spinning about in the ballroom. I think I even spotted that horrid little bandit, Meg Giry.

Mssr. Firmin, alone in the office and all atremble, grasped the script from me as if I would bite him.

"Mssr. Firmin, it is so kind of you to consider performing this opera."

"Not at all, Mademoiselle," he nodded repeatedly. "N-n-not at all!"

"Pardon me for saying so, Monsieur, but you appear quite pale. Are you well?"

"Oh, yes, Mademoiselle. Q-q-quite..."

"When do you think it will be performed?"

"It will be the next one to be performed as soon as C-c-carmen closes."

"Really? As soon as that?"

He did not answer but rather slammed the door in my face.

This was most suspicious; and definitely had the seal of the Phantom of the Opera all over it.


I did not ask any questions however.

I was just relieved that Erik's scheme, whatever it was, had worked.

Now there was nothing else for us to do but wait for the production to get started.

So we had to find ways to fill the time while we waited.

Erik would often compose pieces on the organ or play some of his favorite pieces of music.

As for myself, I was having a grand old time exploring Erik's library. I could not imagine how one person could acquire so many books. There were books of philosophy, medicine, history and science. He also had a nice collection of fiction and biographies. I began reading quite a bit of William Shakespeare, never having had the opportunity before.

Erik remarked how educated I was for a woman.

I related to him how my father had insisted on tutoring me himself, that he wanted me to learn more than just how to sew and dance in a ballroom. When he had died in a hunting accident, I then spent my days taking care of my ill grandmother. Under her influence, I learned to appreciate the arts such as opera and ballet.

He confessed to me that reading had seen him through more dark days than he cared to remember.

I had fun teaching him the few parlor games that I knew. And no matter what the game, once he had played a few rounds, he would always delight in trouncing me soundly. Honestly, it was so humiliating!

Several times, I tried to encourage him to go out of doors. That perhaps we should take a ride in the carriage somewhere and get some fresh air. To my annoyance, he always refused. I assumed this was because he still did not want me to know where we were.

I was pleased to see that he was starting to eat more food on a daily basis. Admittedly, I hounded him quite a bit, chiding him that he would never know whether our opera had become a success or a failure if he died of malnourishment. I even attempted to make a cake for him, although I admit that the culinary arts have never been my strong suit.

As for my disturbing dreams, they had only intensified with time. And while Erik was gradually becoming more pleasant to live with, he would absolutely not touch me or come near me in any way. While I knew that he was only trying to protect me from any more disturbing incidents that might drive me away, sometimes I would be despondent with yearning for him. And always, I would have to keep my emotions a secret from him.

But then something happened in the library...

Occasionally, Erik would join me and we would read together in companionable silence.

One afternoon, I was studying Romeo and Juliet. It was such a beautiful story that I had always been fond of. I had glanced up at Erik, about to ask him if he had ever read it. I was shocked to find him staring at me with such heat that I felt as if I were naked! Abruptly, he returned to perusing his book as avidly as any scholar.

After a few moments, he excused himself from the room.

Bursting with curiosity, I sneaked over to the bookshelf and picked out the tome that he had been reading. A Study of Botany. That's funny; as Erik had never in any way indicated any interest whatsoever in that particular subject, besides having a tendency to send people red roses. To my horror, the binding came right off. Oh, Erik would be so cross with me for ruining his book! But then I realized that this was a false cover. Underneath the binding, the book was really something called the Kama Sutra. Interesting! I opened the book to find shocking illustrations of naked men and women in the most unusual mating positions. My God, these were worse than the tapestries in the music room!

Fumbling with the cover, I hurriedly put the book back on the shelf. Whirling around, I was horrified to find Erik standing in the doorway, his face unreadable.

"I had no idea you were interested in botany, my dear!"

Certain that I was as red as a tomato, I could feel myself breaking out into a cold sweat.

I could swear I could hear that devil laughing as I excused myself from the room.

Despite my outrage, there was one comforting thought that ran though my head: perhaps Erik was not as immune to me as he pretended.