Gia felt the warm morning light on her face, and it signaled her it was time to wake up. Facing an entire day of rehearsals was the last thing she wanted to do. Her first thought was to bury herself under the sheets and spend the entire day in bed feeling sorry for herself. She had pushed Erik away with her faithlessness and inability to tell him why she felt so threatened by Christine. She was too afraid to say the words out loud for fear of what his reaction would be to them.
I love you.
Three simple words that she had never spoken to anyone, save her mother. In her foolish attempt to protect herself from rejection, she had ironically caused him to do exactly that. She wanted to spend the day wallowing in self pity, but a voice inside told her to get out of bed and get dressed. Erik was not the only man in this world. It would not do for her to be humiliated in front of an audience because of her attachment to him. Determined to face the day, she placed her feet on the floor and stood up. From there she operated out of routine, going about the business of washing her face, putting up her hair, and dressing.
He was just a man! And an infuriating one at that! He was demanding, selfish, and on more than occasion surly. He could be manipulative and often thoughtless. There were plenty of other men to be had. If she performed well in Giselle she might even receive an offer to become the mistress of a gentleman. She was not so old as to have lost all her charms. If Erik had found her attractive, there would be others. Why, just yesterday, Jean-Paul Chretien had eyed her with interest!
The only problem in this glorious plan was that she did not want another man. Erik had wormed his way into her heart. She wanted to be with him and only him. She wanted to be there to soothe his rages and comfort him when he needed it. She wanted to wake to the sounds of his music echoing wherever they chose to make a home. She would have lived in that damned cellar if that would mean she could be with him!
But cursing herself and hand wringing would not solve anything. She was not the first or last woman who would have her heart broken. For a brief moment, there had been love in her life, and that was more than could be said for some people. Gia took one final look at herself in the mirror, and satisfied that she did not look like she had spent much of night weeping, she picked up her pointe shoes as she walked out the door on her way to rehearsal.
Eager to try to put Erik in the past, she poured herself into the class. She worked her body relentlessly, pushing it harder than before. The pain was a welcome distraction. She knew she must look a sight, but for the first time in years she did not care what was whispered about her after rehearsal. What could they say? She was a hard worker, that was all.
The morning session ended all too soon, and she was surprised to find Madame Giry pull her aside. The ballet mistress said nothing, but there was something in her eyes that said she wanted to speak to her alone. Once all the members of the corps de ballet had left she bade Gia to take a seat, and handed her a towel.
"If some of these girls would work half as hard as you did today I would not be nervous about the gala," she said by way of opening the conversation.
The woman could speak in riddles, and Gia was in no mood for cat and mouse. "Madame Giry, what is it you want? If it is not important I would prefer to go to my room so I may rest before this afternoon," she retorted rather testily.
Madame Giry could see the young woman was annoyed so she came to the point, "I spoke with Erik last evening. He told me you had a falling out."
"How sweet of him to confide in you!" Gia snapped sarcastically and she made to stand up, wanting to be quit of the room.
"I am sure you have good reason to be upset. But Gia, this does not have to be the end. I urged him to try to look at things from your perspective. He told me that he would accept a letter from you. It is not as bad as it seems at the moment," she said in an attempt to relieve some of the pain. She tried to brush some of Gia's stray curls away, but that simply excited her.
"You nosy, busybody! How is any of what happened between Erik and I any of your business? Why are you trying to play peacemaker between us? I know what I did is something that cannot ever be taken back! He left me with hardly a word. I will not grovel in a letter begging him to take me back! That would give him too much satisfaction!" she said before she stormed out of the room, filled with righteous anger.
Madame Giry watched Gia's retreating figure with interest. She found her mouth curling into a grin. Better she be angry than spending days mooning over Erik. If she put that anger into her dancing, she would give the audience a performance to remember.
"Maman, are you coming? I thought we were going to have lunch together before you go to the next rehearsal," asked Meg who was leaning into the doorway of the classroom. Her mother rose from the chair to join her, and when she reached her side Meg inquired further, "Did you see Gia Burnside a moment ago? What did you say to her after class? She looked furious. I thought she was quite good in class."
"It was nothing to do with her performance in class, Meg. Other than that, I cannot elaborate. It is a personal matter between us. I gave her some advice and I do not think it sat well with her," she answered enigmatically.
"Will she attend rehearsals this afternoon?"
"I do not know child. But I do not think she would be that reckless even if she in angry with me. She takes her position here very seriously."
Throughout their brief meal together Meg continued to think about Gia. She wished her mother would confide in her. She was not the child she was two years ago. Then it had been prudent for her mother to try to protect her from the drama that had surrounded Christine. This business with Gia seemed rather similar. Gia's emotions had been vacillating wildly over the past few days and it reminded her of how Christine had been alternately ecstatically in love one moment and afraid the next. It could only mean one thing: Gia was involved with a man, and her mother knew who it was!
Who could it possibly be? She had noted that Michel St. Andre had kissed her that one time, but he was a notorious flirt. Then yesterday, stupid Jean-Paul spent half of rehearsal staring at her and mentally undressing her with his eyes. He had absolutely no finesse! Neither seemed like the type of man Gia would be involved with. There was only one thing to be done, she would talk to her before rehearsal. If her mother wasn't around perhaps Gia would explain to her what had been going on.
Once the meal was over and her mother had gone to rehearse with the gentlemen Meg used the free time to try to track down Gia. It proved to be a simple task. She was in her room. Meg could barely make out her figure hunched over a desk, busily writing something. On the floor there were some papers that looked as though they had been torn then cast aside. Not wanting to enter without giving her notice, Meg rapped lightly on the door.
The noise startled Gia who had been trying to think of something to write to Erik. Despite her anger at him and her outburst to Madame Giry, the fact he said he would welcome a letter had heartened her. She had spent a better part of the last hour attempting to write him an apology but nothing seemed to be appropriate. At the sound of someone at her door, she raised her head, leery of who might be there. She was glad it was simply Meg Giry. A good gossip session might be just what the doctor ordered. She pushed aside her notes, and went to answer the door.
"Come in, Meg. What brings you here?" Gia said as she offered Meg a chair by her bookcase. Meg accepted seat, but before she sat down she oohed and aahed over Gia's book collection for a moment.
"My goodness you own a lot of books!" she said as she ran her hands along the spines. "I haven't read a quarter of these!" the young woman squealed as she reached the shelf containing the romance novels.
At that, Gia chuckled and said, "If your mother does not mind, you may borrow any you wish."
"Really? You are so nice, Gia. I don't know why Adrienne is so nasty when she talks about you. Why does she hate you so?" she questioned as she sat down.
Gia sat down on her bed and shrugged, "I wish I knew. I just think she sees me as some sort of threat which is ludicrous because she is younger and far prettier than me."
"You're pretty though Gia. Maybe not in the most conventional way, but still pretty."
"So says the girl with the countenance of an angel. But I thank you for paying me the compliment," she responded magnanimously.
The room fell silent while both women tried to think of something to say. Meg could no longer contain herself, and burst out with, "Gia, do you have a lover? I think you do, and I'm not asking because I wish to spread rumors, but I am curious. My mother won't discuss it with me. She treats me like a child."
Slightly taken aback, Gia searched for a way to answer the ballerina. "Your mother is just trying to protect you. My mother was the same way. Although I'm sure she did not have to beat the gentlemen away like your mother must have to!" she said, hoping the joke would distract her.
But Meg would not be put off, "It's just you remind me so much of my friend Christine. After she was reunited with Raoul it seemed she was either happy or sad. And she was always so distracted! But then in that case, there were two men involved. I told her it must have been dreadfully exciting to be the object of desire for two men."
"I do not know Christine well, but I imagine she was flattered but also very confused. As for me, I do not think your mother would want me to discuss something like this with you. I am hesitant to go against her wishes."
"I am not ignorant Gia! I well know what happens between men and women back stage. Is it as exciting as the books make it sound?"
"I suppose that depends on the books you have been reading, my dear," said Gia sternly, but she could feel her cheeks reddening.
Meg noticed immediately, and took it as proof. "There! If you could see yourself! You do have a lover! You must tell me all about him. I promise I won't tell a soul!" she cried as she made an "x" across her chest to indicate she was in earnest.
Gia took Meg's hands and said to her very seriously, "Meg, I really cannot discuss him with you. He would not want me to."
Meg pouted a moment, clearly not happy that Gia would not reveal his name. "Do you love him?"
The older woman paused and admitted, "I do, Meg. But I have reason to believe he does not return my affections. I think he still loves another woman. It is complicated."
Meg launched from the chair and landed next to Gia, and gave her a big hug, wanting to comfort her. "No wonder you have been out of sorts lately. He must be very stupid not to love you in return."
"I have not told him I love him."
"You should."
"I do not know if I should be taking advice from a silly girl like you, Meg" she teased, and Meg laughed. She then giggled, "What's it like?" It was clear from her inflection exactly what Meg was getting at.
"I must confess it is rather nice," said Gia very primly.
"Nice? Maybe he isn't a very good lover," replied Meg. She had thought making love was supposed to be something more than "nice". She had heard so many stories over the past few years about how wonderful it was. Were all those women exaggerating?
Gia's eyes grew wide at Meg's off hand remark, and without thinking, she rushed to defend Erik. "Oh Meg, it's so much more than nice. Words can't really do justice to it. But my experience is most limited so I am not the best person to ask about it."
They both collapsed in a fit of giggles. It felt so good to be silly for a moment. They chatted about the ballet for a while, and soon it was time for the afternoon rehearsal to start. Before they left, Meg asked if she could borrow one of Gia's novels. Gia consented, but refused to loan her a romance novel until her mother approved it. While Gia looked through the books to find something she thought Meg would enjoy, Meg wandered around the small room a bit.
Certain that Gia was not paying attention, she snatched a couple pieces of paper off the floor and stuffed them as unobtrusively as possible into her ballet uniform. They would tell her who Gia's mysterious lover was! She accepted the book from Gia, and together they left for practice. Meg would not be able to look at the papers until after rehearsal.
Gripping the newspaper tightly, Raoul de Chagny bounded toward the nursery looking for his wife. There was exciting news about the Metropolitan's next production that he had to share with her. He had been surprised that no further letters had come for her in the last couple of days, but he supposed that could be to the poor condition of the roads in April.
He found his wife watching their son as he was making his first attempts to stand on his own and walk. She was encouraging him by clapping her hands and smiling every time he managed to get to his feet. When Philippe fell soundly on his rear and began to cry she scooped him up in her arms and sang to him. It was such a lovely tableau, Raoul almost felt guilty about disturbing it.
"Christine, I have something you must see in today's Le Monde!" he said excitedly as he handed her the paper which he had opened to the article he wanted her to see.
However before Christine could read the whole thing, he began to babble, "Isn't it exciting that the Metropolitan is going to perform Giselle with Meg in the title role? Considering they haven't put on a ballet in years it's rather ambitious of them. I know you were hesitant about going back to Paris so soon, but we really must go to support Meg and Madame Giry."
Raoul was correct. It would be too strange if they did not attend given their strong connection to the Girys. It struck Christine that Erik most likely had something to do with the selection of the ballet, knowing that it would draw Christine and her husband to Paris again. "Certainly, my dear we shall go. I shall write to Madame Giry and Meg right away telling them we are coming and that they must try to set some time aside for us."
"Wonderful. Did you also see that Mlle. Burnside has a large role in the production as well? I thought she told us she had not danced in years. How odd that she was given the role of Myrta!" he mused aloud.
It was odd. Although Christine had never been an especially talented ballet dancer, she knew the kind of work that it took to stay in dancing shape. If Mlle. Burnside had not danced in ten years she would never be prepared for such a large part. There was definitely something not quite right about that. Next to Giselle, Myrta was often the largest role for a female dancer in the ballet. It was not a part to be handed out without careful consideration of the talents of the dancer in question. But then, Madame Giry would not have cast her in the role if she had not been certain that she could perform it.
Unless there was some sort of outside influence involved.
And Christine knew all too well who was capable of bringing that kind of pressure to bear. But why would he do something like that for Gianna Burnside? Could Erik be obsessed with her as he had once been with her? She made a mental note to also write a letter to Mlle. Burnside. She should be warned about what could happen if she had become the object of his desire. The only good thing was that if Erik was interested in Gianna it could mean he was no longer a threat to her, Raoul, and Philippe. Or was this all a ruse to draw her in? She did not doubt that he was capable of concocting such a scheme.
As she pondered this, Raoul interrupted her thoughts. "You know, we should make this trip a real family outing. We can take a house for a couple of weeks in the city and bring Philippe along. He will love seeing his godmother! He is certainly old enough to travel now."
"No, Raoul! It would be too dangerous," Christine cried, as she held her child tightly to her chest. Philippe must be nowhere near where Erik could easily take him.
"Don't be so overprotective, dear one! We shall bring the nanny and there will always be people to look after him. It is not as though he will be left alone," he countered. Why was she being so cautious? Something was wrong with his wife and she would not tell him what it was. He had been trying to draw it out of her and had been unsuccessful.
Christine was adamant, "I will not go to Paris if we bring Philippe!"
When she put the small boy down, Raoul could see her hands were shaking. She was clearly agitated and frightened that something could happen to him if they brought him with them. Seeking to calm her, Raoul sat down next to his wife on the floor of the nursery. He wrapped an arm around her and said in a low tone of voice so one could overhear their conversation, "Tell me what is wrong Christine! I told you I would always protect you. I would do no less for our child."
Christine looked into her husband's eyes and she yearned to tell him the truth. But the thought of betraying her former tutor was too much for her. She had nearly destroyed him once, it was the least she could do but protect him from her husband. She would only tell Raoul of Erik if she was certain that the posed a direct threat to them. The tone of his letter had not been threatening. She could not be certain that he was behind the recent goings on at the Metropolitan.
"Raoul nothing is wrong. I just fear that the city would not be good for our child. He could become ill. It is better if he stay here where we can be sure he will be safe."
It was a believable enough explanation. Young mothers often fretted over such things, Raoul thought. It would not do to make her more upset than she already was. He agreed to her demands, but he could help his unease. If she would not confide in him, he would have to start watching her correspondence. He despised the idea of invading her privacy, but she was giving him little choice. He would instruct Piquet that all of the viscomtess's outgoing correspondence should be brought to him before they were mailed. He prayed that her deception was nothing more than a figment of his imagination.
Raoul adjourned from the room in a far different mood than when he had entered it.