A/N: I'm back from my little trip and I did quite a bit of writing while I was away. I completed this chapter, and I've made a decent start on the next one which I hope to have up in the next day or so. I hope you all enjoy this. Please read and review. Thanks as always to my beta, interminablesadness. Be sure to check out her story "Talk of Summertime" if you haven't already done so.

"Meg Giry, are you paying attention?" came the annoyed voice of her mother from across the ballet practice room. In truth, she had not. Meg had been decidedly preoccupied during the rehearsal, her mind constantly wandering off. She simply wanted the rehearsal to be completed so she would have time to read the papers that she had snatched off of Gia's floor earlier.

"I am sorry, Maman. I was just somewhere else," she apologized.

"I should say so! If you cannot stay focused on the task at hand I shall start rehearsing your understudy. I am sure Claire Margaux would rather be here than dancing in the corps," her tone indicating that she would brook no more excuses from her child.

Madame Giry ran a tight ship and she expected everyone to abide by her rules. Some might consider her a petty tyrant, but there was no doubt the woman got results. Dissatisfied with her daughter, she brought Gianna Burnside and Jean-Paul Chretien to the forefront to work for a while, leaving Meg alone at the front of the room. Georges Huget was there as well, but he seemed absorbed in watching Gia.

Georges was the leading male dancer in the company and was very good looking. He had always been very quiet, and although he saw women from time to time, he had never had a long attachment to anyone. With his black hair, hazel eyes, and strong dancer's build he had been the discerning woman's choice for most eligible bachelor among the men in the opera company. Some women complained he was not very exciting and seemed more interested in work than girls, but the fact was Georges was not very sure of himself around them. His good looks had never made him over confident unlike his counterpart Jean Paul.

It was rather amusing to watch as Jean Paul was doing his best to seduce Gia Burnside and failing miserably. Anytime he got close to her she backed away, and she rolled her eyes at nearly everything the pompous ass said. Georges had always liked Gia and he was thrilled she seemed to show the excellent taste in men by brushing off her over eager suitor. Finally Jean Paul made the mistake of grabbing Gia by the hand when she had not given him leave to do so. She reacted immediately, yanking her hand away and threatened to slap him if he took any further liberties. Madame Giry admonished them both that they must get along for the next few weeks, but Georges was sure that the ballet mistress sided with her new pupil.

He had been intently watching Gia every since he had seen her arrive with Meg at rehearsal. The two had been chatting very amiably, and in those unguarded moments Gia looked younger than her twenty-six years. It seemed that the two were friendly. He was hopeful that after rehearsal he might speak with her for a few minutes about Meg Giry who he been pining for since her arrival at the opera house. He wanted to approach the ballet mistress about courting her daughter but he was concerned she would not want her daughter to become involved with a mere dancer, especially since playing Giselle would garner her a great deal of attention from other far richer men than he. If he had an ally, someone who was liked by both Meg and Madame Giry then it might be easier.

He glanced over at Meg, not wanting to linger too long, lest she realize the depth of his regard for her. She must have thought no one was watching because she was pouring over some crumpled sheets of paper. Once she finished reading them, he noticed she stuffed the papers within the pages of the book that she had brought with her to class. Was someone sending her love letters? If he lost her before he even had the chance to approach her mother he would have no one to blame but himself and his cowardice.

Madame Giry was finishing up with Gia and Jean Paul, and she asked them to sit while Georges and Meg worked on their pas de deux from the first act. It was so difficult to be this close to Meg and not tell her how much she entranced him. To him she was a living angel with her blonde hair and light blue eyes. He simply adored her. Everyday he told himself that someday he would be able to have a conversation with her that was not just about dancing.

The rehearsal ended and as usual Madame Giry thanked them all for their continued efforts. He planned to approach Gia after rehearsal, but she moved so quickly, he was not able to catch up with her until she was far down the hall. To get her attention, he tapped her on the shoulder and was rewarded with a hard slap across the face.

"Oh my goodness Georges, I am so sorry! I thought you must be that dreadful Jean Paul back again to harass me," she said, clearly sorry for what she had done.

His face still stung, and there would almost certainly be handprint visible on his face. "It's alright Gia, I should have known better. He is a pest isn't he? I must say, you can hit harder than I imagined!"

"I learned a long time ago a woman should be able to protect herself," she replied seriously. "Is there something I can help you with? I can't imagine you risked bodily injury without reason."

Georges laughed, pleased that Gia was not without some sense of humor. She had always seemed so guarded, but less so more recently. He imagined some of that had to be nerves. It could not be an easy thing returning to something that one had thought lay in the past. From what he had seen so far in rehearsal, she was doing quite well for someone of her age. He almost wished that he was dancing opposite her instead of Meg, he would probably be far more relaxed around Gia than her. But then Meg would be partnered by Jean Paul, and that would have been far more difficult to endure,

Unsure of exactly the best entry to the conversation, Georges decided it was best to be candid. "I wanted to talk to you about Meg Giry. You both seem very close," he said, keeping his voice low so no one would overhear them.

"I would not say were are very close, but we are friendly. She's a delightful girl and she will be wonderful in the ballet. It's going to be a turning point in her career. But what do you want to know about Meg? I'm not certain there is a great deal I can tell you about her," said Gia kindly. She could tell from Georges expression that the young man's interest was most likely a romantic one. There was a particular look in his eyes when he had spoken her name. He was in love. Perhaps she only recognized it as only as a fellow sufferer could.

Impulsively, Georges took Gia by the hand and dragged her to a more secluded corner. "Oh Gia, you cannot know how much I endure every day being near her and being unable to tell her how I feel! Do you think I have any hope of ever winning her?"

How wrong the boy was. She knew all too well, but she could not reveal that to him. Her eyes misted over and she took his hand in turn, "Georges I cannot claim to know Meg's heart, but I do not see why she would object to you as long as your intentions are honorable."

"It is not Meg I am as concerned about. Do you think her mother will allow me to court her? Her daughter is going to be a great prima ballerina and I am only a dancer. She could have a duke if she wanted one," he said, almost resigned that he would never measure up to a gentleman of noble birth.

"Madame Giry is no fortune hunter. I am sure she would rather Meg keep company with a man who wished to marry her than someone who would only make her his mistress," returned Gia, hoping it would reassure him.

"But didn't her good friend, a mere chorus girl marry a viscomte a couple of years ago? Perhaps her mother holds out hope for a similar match," he countered.

"Madame Giry is a realist. Matches such as that one happen rarely, and I do believe there were some extenuating circumstances involved. The two people in that case knew each other as children, and there was that nasty business with the Phantom that drew them together," she added, trying to sound as casual as possible.

"Would you be willing to intercede on my behalf? I do not feel I know her well enough to approach her,"

"Georges," she said, looking deeply into his eyes, "How deeply do you care for Meg?"

"I love her!"

"If you love her enough, you will find the strength to speak to her mother. Madame Giry is an intimidating woman at times, but she is a very kind and caring person. In private, she is far less stern. I would suggest that you speak to her before the next rehearsal, I cannot imagine she would turn you away. Meg is eighteen now, and you seem a sincere suitor." Hopefully that would give him the necessary encouragement. Georges was a good and honest man, and although he might not be wealthy, Meg could do far worse.

Elated at Gia's words, Georges excitedly gave Gia a warm embrace and planted a quick kiss on her cheek. "Thank you so much for your advice! I shall speak to Madame Giry tomorrow!" he said before he ran off to the dormitories where all the men slept, leaving Gia alone in the hallway. She had been shocked at the quick peck, and had brought her hand up to cover where his lips had carelessly brushed her face. Her hand lingered a moment and then turned toward the dormitories to seek her own room.

Gia had only thought that she had been alone in the hallway. Had she been more observant she would have seen a pair of aquamarine eyes burning with hidden fire nearby. Erik had followed her from practice, eager to observe her. He had been ruminating on Madame Giry's advice and he wished to see for himself whether Gia was in love with him. Earlier he had witnessed her small tirade when Madame Giry had revealed that he would accept a letter from him. That certainly did not fit with the picture of a woman in love. Should she not be prostrate with grief and refusing to leave her room? Instead the mere mention of his name had caused her temper to flare.

He had considered following her to her room so he could listen to her through the wardrobe, but somehow that now seemed to be an intrusion. He had however gone to the dormitories and watched as Meg Giry paid her a visit. He had heard their girlish giggles through the door but not the substance of the conversation because he dare not approach the door where he could be seen. They had left the small room together with Meg holding a book, no doubt one from Gia's collection. Both young women were in good spirits although Meg seemed oddly nervous about something.

Knowing they would in rehearsal for the next few hours, he had gone back to his underground lair. So frustrated he could not compose, he had withdrawn the long concealed musical score to Don Juan Triumphant and began to play it. The music was cathartic, and he quickly became absorbed in it, turning page after page, completely forgetting the time. Before he knew it, he had reached the final page. It was only once the final note faded away, Erik realized if he wished to see Gia after practice he would have to hurry.

When he arrived at the practice rooms they were deserted, but he did find her in the hallway, talking rather intimately with one of the male dancers. They were holding hands and speaking in low voices. The boy was rather handsome, if not very tall, he coldly noted. He was probably about Gia's age, perhaps a bit younger. Most certainly younger than himself who would be nearing forty all too soon. He watched as Gia stared into the young man's eyes, her eyes soft and caring as though he were the only man in the world. Had she ever looked at him like that? Or had he been too concerned with himself to notice it?

Erik did not know what they had been discussing, but Gia must have said something that pleased the boy because he had kissed her quickly on the cheek. Even then, he hoped for some sign of her love, but she did not wipe the kiss from her cheek. No, her hand had stayed there, as though she was committing it to memory.

This was the woman who was supposed to be in love with him! Where were her tears now? Had he meant that little to her than less than a day later she was cavorting in dark corners with strange men? Allowing another man to touch her? To kiss her?

It was as he suspected: women were a faithless, fickle species. She was no different from Christine who had seized upon the first man who showed an interest in her once she saw his true face. What a fool he had been! He had begun to believe her when she said that his face did not disgust her and that he did not need to hide away from the world. But when given the option of a perfect face to his masked one, she selected the latter.

And the boy wasn't even a real gentleman! It might have stung less if the boy had money or a title, but he was a mere dancer. The male lead, which Erik supposed was something to his merit, but what could he possibly offer he besides a pretty face and decent body? She had to know the reputation of most male dancers. Most either avoided women altogether or slept with any woman they could their hands on. He had thought Gia would be more circumspect when selecting her next lover. She should at least be with someone who could take of her well. Did she put that little worth on herself that she would settle so quickly? Or was she simply that shallow?

Disgusted, Erik decided there was no point in following her any longer. He would leave her be unless he received word from Madame Giry that Gia had a letter for him. He did not expect to hear from her ever again.

Gia hoped that finally she would be alone. Today she had barely any time to herself between practice and Meg's unexpected visit. In a way it has been a good thing because she had not been allowed to dwell on what had happened between her and Erik. Uncharitably she felt jealous of Meg who had attracted the attention of Georges Huget. Mentally she berated herself for not being happy for the girl. Meg deserved to have someone care about her in that all encompassing way. It was simply difficult to feel anything but resentment because of her recent disappointment.

Today she was less exhausted and this evening she took the time to take a sponge bath before she slipped on a light nightdress and her robe. That done, she rinsed her stockings and washed the bodice of the old dance uniform, then hung them up to dry on the top of her screen. Tomorrow during the afternoon she would have to pay a visit to the dance shop and purchase a couple of extra pairs of stockings and shoes. It was a good thing that on Friday Monsieur Dupoix would hand out a generous stipend for shoes to all the female dancers. Her meager savings was going to be severely depleted by the necessary purchases.

Feeling assured that she had completed all the tasks that had to be done before she could return to the letter, she returned to her vanity where she had been trying to write to Erik. It had been nearly impossible to string a coherent sentence together. She either sounded like a lovesick child or the words had no emotion at all. Frustrated she put down the fountain pen, and began looking for the previous drafts. There might be something in them that would give her a place to start. The papers were scattered around the chair, and she retrieved them, having to smooth out the wrinkles, and in some cases try to match up missing pieces.

As she looked through the papers, Gia noticed that there seemed to be less of them than she had imagined. But that could simply be her imagination. It was only as she read through them that it became clear a couple of sheets were missing. Horrified, Gia began to look all around the desk, hoping she would come across the missing papers. She looked under her bed, but the floor was totally bare. The only conclusion to draw was that someone had taken them.

It could not have been Adrienne, as Gia was careful to keep the room locked at all times when she was not in the room. She supposed Erik could have snatched them while she was in rehearsal. Oh God, had he read her thoughts before she could make sense of them? However, if Erik had been here, it seemed out of character that he would take something with him, alerting her to his presence. Before he had introduced himself to her, he had come and gone from her room without her knowledge. He was far too calculating to make such an impulsive mistake. It was something an inquisitive child would do.

It had to be Meg.

Shaking, Gia sat down on the bed, wracking her brain, trying to recall what she had written. Had she used Erik's name? Had she stupidly referred to in any way one their amorous encounters? That would give the young Mademoiselle Giry a shock. Would she know who Erik was? She might know the name from Christine, but she might not assume that Christine's Erik and Gia's Erik were the same man. However, there were probably details in the portions of the letters she had that would make that clear.

What would Meg do with that kind of information? Most likely contact Christine, who would know by now that Erik was still alive from his letter. Only now she would learn that Erik had taken up with another woman who had fallen in love with him. Christine would probably realize that Gia had attended that dinner only because Erik had ordered it. If that disturbed her, she might tell her husband, if she had not done so already. Gia could not help wondering what the viscomtess's reaction would be to learning that Erik had taken a woman to his bed. Would she be relieved thinking that it meant Erik no longer wanted her?

Far worse though, Gia could not be sure how well Meg could hold her tongue. Meg might swear that she could keep a confidence, but Gia could easily imagine Erik's name slipping out accidentally to someone. Not only would that confirm the rumors, if Erik overheard his name being linked to his, he might take umbrage and become angry that somehow his name had become public knowledge. This was a complete disaster!

First Gia locked the door, then grabbed a fresh sheet of paper and her pen, she scrawled a few words onto a piece of paper. Without a thought to her manner of dress, she cautiously opened the door to the wardrobe and felt along the back panels looking for the latch that would open it. Just when she was certain she'd never find it, her right index finger ran across a level that loosened one of the boards. As it was solid wood, it was heavy and Gia had some difficulty setting it aside gently. But she was determined that she would reach Erik and let him know what had happened, and she would not let anything prevent her from seeing him a final time.

In one hand she clutched the note that would determine if he could ever forgive her. She could only hope he believed its contents.