For the next three weeks Paris taught piano to the village children. Monday through Friday she had two to three children a day coming over. And every Sunday she played the organ in church for Mass. The first Sunday she had played she had been slightly overwhelmed by the sound of the music filling the church. However, on the second Sunday she managed to convince Erik to join her up in the loft where the organ was situated.
"No one will know you're there, Erik. And I really want you to hear me play," Paris had explained softly. After Erik had looked into his wife's eyes for a moment he had sighed and agreed despite his obvious reluctance to step inside the church.
So every Sunday Erik would join Paris up in the loft and would hide in the shadows. He let the music overwhelm him and he always felt as though his soul was being washed clean bit by bit every time Paris played. He would watch Paris play and cling to the knowledge that she loved him for he knew that if she hadn't, he never would have ventured into the church. Paris would never make him do something he didn't really want to do but she had somehow known that he had wished to hear her play at Mass. So she had given him a suggestion that made it sound as though she really wanted him to be there. Erik knew that Paris did really want him to be there but by giving him an excuse she had provided him with a reason for going without him having to feel scared about stepping into the church filled with people. Granted many of those people had accepted him to a degree Erik still knew that they hadn't accepted him as fully as Paris had and they probably never would. His mask would always be a physical barrier between himself and the villagers.
So Erik listened to Paris play every Sunday and worked on the new church. The plans had been finalized and construction had gotten underway. Erik had to spend much of his time at the construction site now and he even began to help with the building of the church himself. The men in the village had been surprised when Erik had pulled off his jacket and vest and had rolled up his sleeves, grabbed a hammer and had practically jumped into the foray of work. Many of the men had believed that because Erik was from Paris he had believed himself to be better than them. Erik had always been aloof and almost cold towards the villagers but seeing him jump into the work like that had made many of them rethink their opinions regarding Monsieur Desslar.
"My God, Erik what have you been doing?" Paris had exclaimed when Erik had entered the house covered in dust and sweat.
"Constructing a church, my dear," he had laughed.
"Well don't think I'm going to kiss you smelling like that!" Paris had frowned wrinkling her nose in disgust. Erik had just laughed and ignored her protests by scooping her up into his arms and kissing her soundly on the lips.
Erik smiled as he returned to the work he had lying on his desk in the library. He could hear Paris in the music room working with one of her students now.
"Right hand over left, Patrick, yes like that," Paris smiled softly as she help young Patrick Mason play Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata. Patrick was about nine years old with shaggy brown hair and big brown eyes. His father was the village butcher and his wife wanted Patrick to learn piano. Paris had found that Patrick had a wonderful talent for piano and thus encouraged him greatly. She hated playing favorites with her students but Patrick was one of her best pupils.
"You have been practicing!"
"You told me to. You said if I wanted to become better I had to practice all the time," Patrick said, confused as to why his teacher sounded so shocked about him practicing.
"Well I hope you haven't practiced all the time. You should have fun as well."
"Oh, I've done that too. Papa would be mad if all I did was practice the piano. He's going to teach me how to be a butcher when I'm old enough," Patrick grinned showing a gap where his two front teeth were missing.
"That's wonderful, Patrick. Oh, before I forget here's the money I owe your father for the turkey I purchased the other day. I promised I'd send the money with you after your lesson," Paris said pulling out the francs she needed.
"Is my lesson over?" Patrick asked pocketing the money.
"For today it is. I'll see you next week, alright?"
"Yes Ma'am, au revoir, Madame Desslar," Patrick grinned as he took his music and hurried out the door. "Au revoir, Monsieur Desslar," he called as he passed by the library.
"Au revoir, Patrick," Erik smiled as the boy left through the front door.
As soon as the door was shut Erik stood up and left the library. A quick glance in the music room showed him that Paris was no longer there. Looking in the direction of the kitchen he smiled. Paris was moving about preparing dinner.
"I take it the lesson went well?"
"Of course. I'm so proud of him, he's one of my best students so far," Paris frowned as she continued. "I hate playing favorites since some of the children are slower when it comes to learning the notes and some don't always have a chance to practice as much as some of the others. It was kind of Father Michaels to allow some of the children to practice on the church piano since not all the children have access to a piano at home but still…"
"I understand." Erik said and he did.
Paris smiled and gave Erik a quick kiss on the cheek before she turned and returned her attention to dinner preparations. Erik took that as his cue to leave.
A few days, later Paris was dusting the parlor when a letter was brought to the door. After Paris paid the delivery man she looked at the letter in her hand. It was from Christine. Opening it Paris smiled. It was a wedding invitation for the de Chagny wedding. The date had been set for December 15th and would be held in the de Chagny chapel.
Hurrying into the library Paris pulled out Erik's date book and flipped to December. There was nothing but continued work on the new church listed for the week of the 15th. Smiling Paris picked up a pen and wrote the event in the space for the 15th then she closed the book and left the room. She hoped Erik returned home soon so she could tell him the news.
She didn't have long to wait. Erik came home a couple of hours later, dusty, sweaty and tired. Paris hurried over to him with a glass of lemonade and waited for him to sit down in the parlor and get a gulp of the drink. Erik looked at his wife with a raised brow. She was excited about something.
"Yes?"
"Guess what we got today?"
"Paris, I'm not exactly in the mood for guessing games. I'm in dire need of a bath and a change of clothes, maybe even a nap before dinner. So please just tell me," Erik sighed closing his eyes.
"Fine, we got an invitation to Christine and Raoul's wedding. It's on December 15th. I already wrote it down in your date book but here's the invitation if you want to see it," Paris pouted and handed her husband the invitation.
Erik's eyes shot open at the news and he took the invitation from Paris' hand. Glancing at it he saw the location and swallowed. He raised his eyes to Paris' and winced. She was so happy he hated to have to ruin it.
"I don't think I can go," he said softly.
"What? Why not? You don't have anything going on that week," Paris frowned.
"Paris, this wedding will be in just outside of Paris at the de Chagny estate. There will be people at this wedding who will have attended the Operas and will recognize us, me especially since this face is rather hard to forget," Erik growled as he looked away.
Paris was silent for a long time. She just stared down at the carpet. Finally she raised her eyes to Erik's face, her expression determined.
"I'll write to Christine explaining the situation. Maybe she and Raoul will come up with something that will allow us to go but not be seen. We could hide in the back of the chapel."
Erik just sighed and stood up. "If that is possible then we'll go otherwise I will not be going and I would advise you not to either. I don't want to lose you."
Paris nodded and watched as her husband left the room. He had sounded so sad at the thought of losing her and she knew he hated having to say that if nothing could be arranged then she shouldn't go to the wedding. With a sigh Paris stood up and went to write the letter to Christine and prayed that the singer would be able to help them out.
It wasn't long before Paris received a reply from her friend. Christine and Raoul had decided that the best way for the Desslars to come to the wedding was to hide them in the back of the chapel. When Paris told Erik the news he had still been reluctant to go but had agreed in the end. That had earned him a huge hug and a kiss as well as a large chocolate cake. Maybe things wouldn't be so bad, he thought as he took a large bite of the cake with a smile.
Paris spent all her free time working on her wedding gift for Christine and Raoul. She was making them a beautiful quilt for their bed. She knew it wasn't as wonderful a gift as the one that they had given her and Erik but it was the best she could do. Erik composed a beautiful piece for Christine and had then teased Paris into composing something for Raoul. It was a silly piece since Paris didn't want it to look like she was showing romantic interest towards the groom. Erik had also purchased a beautiful gray Arabian stallion to give to Raoul. Paris had pouted saying that Erik never gave her anything that beautiful. Erik had just looked at her and grinned seductively before dragging her upstairs to shower her in beauty his way.
Paris knew despite Erik's calm appearance he was still very worried about the trip back to Paris and to the de Chagny estate. They would have to travel by carriage and even then it would have to be rented so as not attract too much attention. They would have to sneak into the chapel shortly before the actual wedding ceremony so that none of the other guests would see them. Christine had written in her letter that Raoul would make sure the chapel doors were unlocked so that Erik and Paris could get inside.
With a sigh Paris finished the quilt block she was working one and set it aside. The wedding date was approaching quickly and she still needed to tell the parents of her students that she would be gone for a week. Glancing at the clock Paris decided it was time to get dinner started. Erik would be home soon and he would be hungry. So Paris put her sewing aside, stretched the kinks out of her back and headed for the kitchen. Weddings were a lot of work, she decided, even when they weren't your own.