Helene turned when she heard footsteps in the passage leading up to the Rue Scribe, rather surprised that Erik would choose to return that way. He preferred to cross the the lake, to come and go through the desolate theatre itself.
But it was not Erik who stood in the entrance.
"Monsieur Nadir!"
He nodded by way of a greeting, but it was clear he had not expected to find Helene there.
"Forgive me, Madame, I did not mean to frighten you. I was looking for Erik."
"He went out, Monsieur. I don't know where. He said he would come back soon. Would you care to wait for him."
"Yes, I suppose I will wait. My business with him will not take long. To be truthful, Madame, I was quite startled to see you here."
As he took a seat, he glanced around the room. He caught sight of her cloak lying over a chair, one of Erik's waistcoats tossed carelessly beside it.
Nadir gave a sort of small, shrewd half nod. As unlikely as it seemed that his old friend would take a lover, especially after the matter with Christine Daae ended so terribly, it was clear to him that there was some sort of intimate arrangement between Erik and this Comtessa. And that arrangement undoubtedly had something to do with the two small parcels tucked safely inside his coat.
Helene did not try to explain her presence in Erik's home to him. It would be best to leave that to Erik. So she did her best to converse with the guest on mundane things.
As she served him coffee, he suddenly interrupted her.
"Madame, you must tell me one thing to put my mind at ease. Are you here of your own free will?"
She set down the ibrik with a steady hand and met his gaze.
"Yes, Monsieur. I am here of my own free will."
He leaned back in his chair, folding his arms across his chest.
"You are telling me the truth? Does he have some hold over you?"
Does he have a hold over me? He does, yes! But it is one I have given him.
There was no pointing in withholding the truth.
"I am here, Monsieur, because I love him. Of my own free will. Does that shock you? Do you think it is impossible to love him?"
To her relief, the Persian smiled as he took the coffee.
"No, my dear lady, I do not think it impossible to love him. Yet I did not think there was any woman with the courage to do so. You have my respect for that, Madame."
Then he frowned, staring for a moment at the sweet coffee.
"Are you aware that Christine Daae has returned to Paris?"
"Yes," she said in a calm, low voice, "I am very aware of her return. She is my brother's wife."
Nadir set his cup down abruptly, staring at her in complete disbelief. The woman was a de Chagny, sister to the man who had come between Erik and his protégé…and she was here with him, his lover by her own admission.
"I know what you must be thinking. That of all people…"
He was even more surprised when she fell to her knees before him, hands clasped and eyes pleading.
"Monsieur, I beg you…not a word to Erik. Please…please, do not tell him that she is here!"