The audience burst into wild applause as the curtain drew closed at the end of The Magic Flute. There had been no major gaffes, and with the much improved ballet, the reviews were sure to be kind, Gia reflected. She took her bow with the rest of the cast, then made her way back to the dressing room so she could change for dinner. She had purposely made sure she was the last chorus member to enter the dressing room before the performance, knowing that with the other women focused on themselves, they would not notice the boxes she was carrying. She wanted to put off the inevitable questions about the contents or how she had afforded them as long as possible.
When she entered the dressing room, it was too late. The nosy Adrienne Leveau was already rifling through them and making comments for all to hear.
"Would you look at these?" she said as she held up in one hand the black silk drawers and the other the garter belt, "It would seem the ice queen is not as pure as we all thought!" This elicited a few titters from the other women, and now that she was sure she had their undivided attention, Adrienne took the dress out. "Look ladies, it isn't black! Someone may actually even be able to glimpse some skin if she wears it."
"Are you finished, Adrienne? I'd like to dress now, I have a dinner engagement to keep," Gia said, keeping her voice even. She wanted to defuse the situation as quickly and quietly as possible.
She lead mezzo snorted derisively, "You? Have a dinner engagement? With whom pray tell? I'd wager a month's salary it was with whoever gave you this," she said gesturing to the boxes. "I've waited a long time to see you knocked off that high horse you've been on all these years, looking down at those of us who have men willing to pay to share our company. I can't wait to meet the sort of gentleman who'd be willing to pay for the favors of an old, fat has-been chorus girl such as yourself. Then I'll take him from you."
Gia's eyes glazed over coldly as she made her way over to her station. Without saying a word, she plucked the dress away from the tight grasp of Mlle. Leveau, and laid it back carefully in the box. That accomplished, she turned to face the young woman, unwilling to allow her insults to pass without comment. "For your information, I am dining with the vicomte and vicomtess de Chagny and the Girys. I was particularly invited by the vicomtess herself. The dress was a gift from her," she lied, hoping the chorus girls would believe that.
Adrienne visibly blanched, but undeterred she continued, "A woman bought you all this? I had not heard Christine de Chagny had such disgusting predilections. At least that explains why you have avoided men all these years."
Oh God, she had moved from one mess to another! She could not let needless slander be spread about the vicomtess. Erik would be sure to hear of it, and blame her for her stupidity. "Fine, then, you caught me in a lie," she said as Adrienne looked on triumphantly, "The dress was a gift from a gentleman, but he is only a friend. I was not lying about dinner with the de Chagnys however. Now, if you will excuse me, I must hurry or I shall delay our party, and I do believe we have reservations within the hour."
"In my experience, men do not give lingerie to women they are friends with," snapped Adrienne, determined to cut Gia as deeply as possible.
Gia simply enigmatically smiled, and riposted with, "I do realize your experience is far greater than my own, my dear, but I cannot believe that in addition to your reported vast knowledge of men, you have recently attained the ability to read minds." That set the diva off in a huff, and she retreated to her station to remove her costume. With her gone, Gia began to do the same, and the rest of the women became once again absorbed in themselves rather than her and Adrienne.
She asked the girl sitting at the next station to help her remove the ridiculous angel wings so she could sit down and remove her makeup. If she didn't take it off before she hung up the costume, she would ruin it. As tempting as it was, she did not want a scolding from the wardrobe mistress for shoddy treatment of her work. That accomplished, she slipped behind a screen to take off the white dress, and put on the foundation garments that went with the new dress. The silk drawers, chemise, and stockings felt sensuous against her skin, and over these she put on the corset. It immediately brought her waist in and thrust her breasts up, giving her a great deal of cleavage. She was surprised to find she could still breathe rather well, and if anything, this garment was more comfortable than her own. Over this, she put on an old cotton dressing gown, then she sat down at her small table before the mirror so she could arrange her hair.
Her unruly curls rarely behaved, and Gia struggled for several minutes to twist her hair into a chignon which she secured with more hairpins than necessary. Now that her face was blessedly free of the heavy stage make-up she carefully applied a bit of rouge to the apples of her cheeks and chose a fairly sheer color of lip rouge. Satisfied that her face was as presentable as possible, she moved back behind the screen to finish donning the dress. Madame Collette had done a magnificent job, in addition to the beauty of the gown, it had been designed with the knowledge the wearer did not have a ladies maid to assist her, so the bustle was mercifully kept more understated. All of the closures for the bodice were in the front, and Gia found herself dressed swifter than she imagined.
Stepping out from behind the screen, she got a look at herself in the small mirror. She looked elegant and understated, even with her chest swelling up meet the lace edging of the neckline.
"Why Mlle. Burnside, you almost look pretty in that dress! I suppose what they say about Madame Collette is true," came Adrienne's voice from across the room.
"And what is that, Adrienne?" asked Gia dryly.
"She could even make a ugly woman the center of attention in one of her dresses," she said cruelly.
Unwilling to dignify that remark with a reply, Gia took one last look at herself in the glass, put a smile on her face, and walked out of the dressing room, past Adrienne Leveau without a word. She could do this. She would make it through this dinner with her dignity intact and then she would see Erik and find a way to end their association.
Waiting for her on the other side of the door was Meg Giry, wearing a rose gown with white detailing. Gia heard her sharp intake of breath as she saw her emerge from the room.
"The rumors are true! The theater is positively buzzing with the news that Mlle. Gianna Burnside was given an outrageously beautiful and expensive gown, complete with undergarments. Is it true you have a wealthy lover?" she inquired eagerly.
"Meg, when will you learn not to believe everything you hear in this place? This dress was merely a gift from a friend! I do not have a lover, and I have no intention of taking one. We must be off, I imagine we are keeping your mother and the de Chagnys waiting," she scolded the young woman.
"Oh, let them wait! Christine is going to be green with envy when she sees you!" she exclaimed as she walked around Gianna, taking the whole dress in. "That color is perfect for you. Your 'friend' has excellent taste in clothes."
That he does, thought Gianna silently. She took Meg by the arm firmly, and together they made their way to the foyer of the opera house where Madame Giry and Christine were waiting for them. Giry looked most dignified in the plum colored gown and the vicomtess had chosen a dress in emerald green. Her neck sparkled with a diamond necklace that had been in the Chagny family for over one hundred years. Gia found herself dismayed that she looked exactly the same as she did in the sketches in Erik's home, he had not exaggerated her beauty in the slightest. Her waist was so small it was difficult to believe she had ever had a child.
"You must be Mlle. Burnside! I have heard so much about you from Madame Giry and Meg. That was you playing one of ladies in waiting to the Queen of Night, correct?" Christine said by way of a friendly greeting. She then walked over to Gianna who began to make a curtsey, but the young woman stopped her.
"Come, come, there's no need for that. Raoul and I don't stand much on ceremony. Please call me Christine! I really despise always being referred to as Madame la Victomtess," she said, the last words spoken in an intimation of an aristocratic snob. "It's the one thing I really can't get used to."
"If you insist Madame, I mean, Christine. And to answer your previous question, yes that was I playing one of the handmaidens. It's all rather ridiculous, someone of my age in that role, but we do not often get to choose the parts we play."
Christine suddenly had a far away look in her eyes, as though she was recalling something from the distant past and added looking rather uncomfortable, "I know that all too well, Mlle. Burnside."
Remembering her vow to be as pleasant as possible, Gia hastily said, "Since you have given me leave to address you by your first name, you may call me by my given name, Gianna, although nearly all my friends call me Gia. I should be most content to count you among that number," she lied.
That comment brought a smile to the young bride's lips and she held out her hand in a gesture of friendship. Gia took it, and shook it firmly and returned the smile. Not letting go of her hand, Christine gave it a playful tug and said, "Let's go wait for the carriage outside, Raoul should be just a moment fetching it."
No sooner had the small group of women stepped outdoors than a large open carriage pulled up bearing the crest of the de Chagny family. Raoul was seated in the carriage wearing formal black tails and white tie, his hair drawn back into a queue. Gia had never seen him before, and her first thought was that he reminded her of the man she once envisioned as Prince Charming. He was certainly very handsome, almost pretty in a way, and very different from Erik. At the sight of his wife, he stood up, not even giving the footman the opportunity to open the door for her.
Once the ladies were seated, Raoul addressed them, "I shall surely be the most envied man in Paris this evening surrounded by four such lovely ladies!"
At the unexpected compliment, Gia blushed, and he said, "What's this, a humble opera singer? I look to be amazed! I didn't realize there existed such an exotic creature."
Playing along, she teased the young man, "Are you implying Monsieur le Vicomte that your wife is not humble? Or that she is not a rare creature?"
"My dear Mlle. Burnside, I regret that I am unable to answer that, as anything I say will only get me into trouble," laughed the young man as his wife gave him a mock exasperated look by placing her hands on her hips as she looked at him.
"Do not mind him Gia! He's just another example of what happens when first cousins marry," she returned humorously.
"Why you, you impudent wench!" he choked out, surprised she would say such a thing in front of a virtual stranger. But then he stared into her warm brown eyes, and before he knew it he placed a light kiss on her lips, all forgiven in an instant.
Gia looked on the scene doing her best not to look envious openly. She had only been with them ten minutes and she could see they only had eyes for each other. Breaking them apart would be well-nigh impossible and probably could not be done without violence. These two shared a deep bond, perhaps it was born of their child, but Gia would wager it had been present long before that.
For the rest of the carriage ride, the five of them conversed about that night's performance and whether it would be well received by the critics. All seemed to be in agreement that it should be. Even Madame Giry had no complaints about the corps de ballet. Both Raoul and Christine, as they insisted on being called, complimented Gia on her fine work and said they hoped she be given a more prominent role in the next production.
"I thank you both, but I doubt that will happen. There are few roles for mezzos as it is, and Adrienne Leveau is the principal. I am content to be her understudy. There is always the chance she will refuse to perform one night, perhaps to run off with one of her gentleman," she shared, hoping to steer the conversation in another direction.
"Oh you must tell us all about her! It's so long since I've had any good opera gossip. I think that is what I miss most from my old life. That and my good friends," she concluded, clasping the hands of both Giry and her daughter, as the carriage came to a stop at the restaurant.
The party was shown to an excellent table, and Raoul insisted that Gia sit at the head of the table. "You are our guest of honor, and besides, now I can sit next to my wife and we can play with each other's feet when we think no one is paying attention."
Madame Giry had not exaggerated that Raoul was a most amiable man. He seemed not to have a care in the world as long as Christine was by his side. Looking to start another conversation, Gia looked around the table and noticed now that the ladies had all removed their gloves that Christine did not wear an engagement ring, only a gold wedding band. "Christine, you must tell me why you do not wear an engagement ring! Don't tell me your husband had not the wherewithal to provide you with one!" she inquired keeping her voice light as possible.
Silence fell over the table, and realized she had made a terrible blunder. No doubt Erik was involved in this somehow. Christine's eyes misted slightly, and she said simply, "I lost it in a good cause."
"Forgive me, Christine, I was only trying to make conversation. I'm afraid I'm rather out of practice. I don't often have anyone to talk to since I live alone now."
"We shall give you plenty of practice then. Tell me all about the Metropolitan! I had never been there before this evening. Is it true you have lived there your entire life?"
With that entry, Gia spent a good portion of dinner regaling the group with the history of the opera house and a brief explanation of her own history. Glad for the opportunity to correct some of the inaccuracies present in the rumors that flew about her, she told them that although she had wanted to be a ballerina, she had realized by fourteen it was a rather fruitless dream.
"I was growing so rapidly it was making my mother crazy because my clothes never fit properly. She never forced me to begin singing as so many seem to believe. It was my choice. She would have let me become a teacher or perhaps a governess if I had wanted to. I told her I would rather stay with her at the Metropolitan. She was not the ogre the gossips often make her out to be. All she ever wanted was the best for me.
When it happened that my voice would not allow me to be a true diva, she was crushed because I would never have the chance to have all the experiences she did. Those tales about her wanting to throw the success of her child back at my father are, as far as I know, false."
Over the dinner's course, Gia recounted some of the more humorous incidents that had taken place over the years, and she had the table nearly in tears on more than one occasion. Only Madame Giry was suspicious. Gia was normally very quiet and kept to herself. She had been sure that it would have taken some prodding to get the girl to come out of her shell. But here she was telling stories and entertaining everyone as if she was like those ladies who hosted fashionable salons. She looked to be having a delightful time.
It could be the dress's doing. Gianna looked marvelous, and Giry had noted that several men had given her admiring looks as she had come into the restaurant and the women were whispering about the gown itself. No doubt that dress was a gift from Erik. How he had gotten her to wear it, she had to discover. When Gia excused herself to go to the powder room, Madame Giry followed close on her heels.
Thrilled that the powder room was empty, Gia let out a sign of relief. Dinner was nearly over, and she had managed not to make any blunders since her mention of the engagement ring. She had skillfully manipulated the conversation to learn bits and pieces of the life the de Chagnys shared together. They doted on their small child, and though Christine was enjoying the trip to Paris she could not wait to see Philippe again. He would be the couple's greatest weakness, and she feared what Erik might do to exploit it. Thankfully, the evening would be over soon, and all that would be left was dealing with Erik. More than ever, she was determined that she would break free of him.
Grudgingly, she had to admit, she liked Raoul and even Christine. She was still very much a child despite all that happened to her in the past. There was a certain sweetness of character and naïveté about her that she could understand why a man could be obsessed with her. But her eyes were only for her husband and Erik had to understand that. Gia did not look forward to being the messenger of such ill tidings.
The door swung open behind her and Madame Giry sidled up next to her, reaching into her reticule to fish out a small compact. As she dabbed some face powder on she said, "You have made a most favorable impression Gia. I believe Christine is quite taken with you."
"I am doing my best to be sociable. Is that a problem?" she added defensively.
"No, I am very happy to see you enjoying yourself, but I cannot be sure this is just another elaborate façade. I know you are only here because Erik wanted it, and that dress of yours is only something he could have provided. The entire opera house is already buzzing that your 'friend' provided you with everything from the dress to silk stockings. Why did you wear it? To please him?" she asked honestly.
"I wore it because I thought it would help me get though this evening. For one night I wanted to at least look like a confident woman. When we return to the opera house, I shall pack everything away and return it to him," Gia replied.
"That would not be wise, my child. You know Erik does not take rejection well."
"Nevertheless, I will not make myself in debt to him. I do not need this any longer. This costume has served its purpose."
Giry said nothing in response. Gianna was a stubborn woman, and she would be the one to bear the brunt of his wrath when she tried to give it back. Warning her at this point would be pointless, all she could do was pray that neither hurt the other as they struggled for control of their relationship. The two women left the powder room together, and sat down to enjoy coffee and dessert.
Supper drew to a close shortly thereafter and they all traveled back to the Metropolitan in Raoul's carriage. The lights in the building were nearly all out make the structure look almost forbidding. Gia watched as Madame Giry and Meg made their farewells, and found her stomach tied in knots, knowing what was to come in the coming hours. Christine then took Gia aside and told her that Gia must write her and let her know if she needed anything.
"As one orphan to another, I know the loneliness that can come from being in a place like this. There were times I felt so alone that I spent hours in the chapel of the Populaire singing to a man I believed to be the spirit of my father I realize you are too wise for such foolishness, but do not hesitate to write me. No one should ever feel that way."
Gia felt consumed by terrible guilt at what she was about to do. She was going to place the life of this young woman and her husband in jeopardy all because she was not strong enough to make a life outside the walls of the Metropolitan. She promised to write, knowing that to be a falsehood, then bid her good evening.
Making her way through the silent dark hallways, first she went to the dressing room to fetch the few items she had left there, including the three boxes. The flights of stairs to her chamber had never seemed so steep as they did that evening. Each step brought her closer to Erik, and when she reached the final landing Gia took a deep breath and asked God to give her strength.
The door to her room loomed heavy in the darkness, and she pushed the door open gingerly. He was waiting for her, sprawled out on her bed, and for the first time she noted he was not wearing his tie or a waistcoat. Visible was a small triangle of flesh on his chest, and she could see a smattering of dark hairs. He made no move to rise as she entered the room or attempted to be of assistance to her.
"You are late my dear. I had not expected you would tarry so long. Now, let us be off, I want to discuss this in private," he said firmly.
"Erik, this place is private. No one will come here to disturb us."
"Can you be so sure? I imagine that dress has set more than a few idle tongues wagging. I would not be shocked if someone decided to listen outside your door to see if you had any visitors this night."
Ruefully, she had to agree with him. Adrienne would be just the sort to listen at keyholes to try to gain damaging information about her. Sighing, she held out her hand automatically, knowing he would slip the mask into it. He did so, and she put it on, then held out her hand to be led down once more. He subtly caressed her hand though the silk of her glove throughout the journey sending small shivers of pleasure down her spine. Having made the trip on three other occasions, she had timed it almost perfectly and did not need to be told when they were in sight of his home.
This time when she drew the mask off, the lakeside lair looked different. He had moved aside the red and gold curtain, revealing his bed chamber. There was a large bed with wrought iron head and footboards. The bedclothes were of ivory silk, and conspicuously turned down, waiting to be slipped into. Next to it was a full length mirror with a silver frame.
"Erik, what is the meaning of this? I thought we were going to talk. Don't you want to discuss the performance? Or at least hear about Christine?" she asked, her voice pleading with him.
"We can talk later Gianna. Now is not the time for words." His mouth came down on hers in a bruising kiss, and she met him head on, kissing him back. Their tongues slipped along each other, exploring, tasting and probing. Gianna's hands wandered across his collarbone, her touch light and unsure. His wandered down her back, and she could feel him loosening the tapes that attached the skirt to the bodice. Not ready to give up so easily, she pushed him away, and he could only chuckle.
"You know, you are a vision in that dress. I'd wager every man who saw you fantasized about having you stand before him like this, mouth damp from his kisses, and waiting to be ravished," he said in that seductive tone he used so well. "Don't be coy now, we both want this. There is no shame in two adults wanting each other. I want to know you in the most intimate way a man can know a woman. I don't care about ten years ago, I only care that just looking at you standing there makes my cock hard."
His harsh erotic words made her short of breath. She was hot and now she could barely find the strength to stand. God had obviously been busy when she implored for His assistance earlier. She had to make him face the fact that he didn't really want her. He couldn't. She had not hoped it would come to this, but the moment had arrived, and even knowing how painful the sting of his inevitable rejection would be, she would do it anyway. She would humiliate herself in front of him, at least that would bring him a small amount of pleasure.
Gia began by drawing off her gloves one at a time and setting them down on a nearby settee. That accomplished, she began loosening the skirt and bodice.
Erik moved forward to assist her, almost unbelieving what she was doing. She was undressing before his eyes. "Gia, let me help you, I want to help you. This is something we should savor together," his voice low.
"No Erik, I want to do this myself. I want to show you what lies beneath all this finery. If this is what I must do to show you that I am a poor substitute for the woman you love, I will. I have just spent three hours with her, and I am keenly aware of my shortcomings compared to her." And with that, Gia's skirt and petticoat fell to the floor in a heap. The bodice quickly followed, leaving her standing there, her arms bare with the full length of her legs exposed to his gaze.
This could not be happening, he thought, she was taking control away from him by doing this. He stared as she undid the corset and tossed it onto the pile of clothes. As she bent over to undo the stockings, he turned away, unwilling to watch her because it was clear she was not doing this to please him or herself. She was so convinced of her unworthiness she was willing to lay herself nude before him if that would hinder his desire.
With his back turned, he could hear the last few items of clothing come off. His whole body was shaking, and his erection was straining against the broadcloth of his trousers.
Her voice trembling, she spoke, "Look at me, Erik. Look at me, and see if you can still tell me truthfully this is what you want."