Chapter Fifteen

La Viscomtesse

"How dark and lonesome it is," thought the Viscountess as she looked around her dressing room. She should have felt at home. She had played as a child in the corridors. She had left childhood behind within the same walls. In this immense kingdom, she had rediscovered the part of herself that she had lost when her papa had died.

"I should be glad to be home," she said aloud. But she knew she wasn't, for even though she had begged it not to, the fear had returned. Even with all the lovely memories there were, she could not forget the terror of her last few days in the Paris opera house. They had haunted her for years, and now she was there, living the nightmare over again.

Suddenly, her thoughts were interrupted as her husband knocked on the door gently and entered. She rose and he embraced her warmly. She wished that he wouldn't let go. She wished that she didn't have to go out on the stage alone and invite all her worst fears. She wished that she could remain forever in those strong, safe arms where she was free and happy.

Suddenly, her young son came running into the dressing room and pulled on her skirt.

"Nicholas?"

"I want to hug too!" he said indignantly.

"Of course, my darling!" she answered and leaned over to lift him into their embrace. Suddenly, from some place in the corridor, or perhaps in an adjacent room, or the stairwell, came the mournful sound of a violin. The Viscountess went ridged with horror, then grabbed her child up suddenly and turned back to the safety of her husband's arms. He lifted her chin and saw tears on her cheeks.

"Christine!" he scolded, "Why are you frightened? It is only someone practicing their scales for the performance tonight. There is no need for tears." He dried her eyes and sat her down in a small chair. Nicholas left his mother's arms to explore the new room. He was a brave and curious child, who made it his own business to find out about everything around him. Nothing could be hidden away in cupboards or kept secret from him. He was plump and fair and when the Viscountess had company, all the ladies would smile, sigh, and confide in her that he was the most delightful and intelligent boy that they'd ever seen. Meanwhile, the comrades of the Viscount assured him that he would grow to be a fine, sharp young man. One might have be concerned that such a pampered and adored child would have become somewhat spoiled, and perhaps a few close friends had noted the couple's rather enthusiastic fondness for their only son, but everyone knew how lonely the Viscountess was while on tour and Nicholas was such a cordial little chap, that whatever little indulgences they paid him were easily forgiven.

Just as the little fellow had discovered a trunk of props and costume pieces, his father called him to go and find Maman a drink of some kind.

"All right, papa," he said and scurried off into the corridor.

"Come straight back, darling!" the mother called after him, "And don't speak to anyone you don't know!" The Viscount took her hand and shook his head sadly.

"I knew it was wrong to come here," he told her.

"I had to," she said simply.

"Please, tell me why?"

"I don't know why, Raoul. I just had to." He frowned in consternation.

"I don't understand."

"Maybe, I felt that if I came back to this place and sang, he would hear me. Maybe I had to come and sing for him once more." Raoul looked up alarmed.

"But you said that you were sure that he was gone."

"I am," she said through a fresh stream of tears, "If he were here I would know. But even so, I am afraid."

"Don't be frightened. If he is gone, then what is there to be afraid of?" Christine shook her head and looked about her, as if she was searching for the answer.

"The ghost?" she said finally.

"Oh, Christine!" he exclaimed, "I am here now. Even if he is still alive, even if he is still here, I won't let him take you again." She didn't seem to hear him.

"The funny thing is, I don't think that I would be as afraid if I knew that he was here. Now that I know that he isn't here anymore, I don't know what I'm afraid of." Raoul turned away sharply. "I hate him!" he spit out bitterly.

"Oh, Raoul. I know you do. But I do wish you wouldn't say so. He can't hurt us now."

"Good! Then there is nothing to be frightened of. He was the ghost and now the ghost is gone. You will go out and sing beautifully, just as you always do and tomorrow we will leave for Milan."

"London."

"London, or where ever else you want to go. Come now, stop crying and be my happy little Christine."

"I wish it were over now, or at least begun."

"It will be soon."

"I wonder what is keeping Nicholas away. You will watch him closely tonight, won't you?"

"I will watch you both closely. But there is no danger. I promise." Christine smiled.

"I believe you."

"Very well. You get ready for your performance and I will go and find our son. We will be watching you from our box."

As the Viscount left, Christine seemed to be much better. He was glad. He didn't want her to be frightened when there was nothing to be frightened of. Didn't she think that he could protect her? Hadn't he saved her when the monster stole her the first time? Weren't they sure that Erik was dead and no longer a threat to them? Suddenly, from the darkness behind him, he heard the cry of a violin and the Viscount put his hand to his coat pocket where he had hidden a loaded pistol. He would protect his family no matter what the cost.