All In Pieces

Meg had barely been gone more than a week when Raoul's world had once again shifted on its axis. He'd had business with Francois LeCleur at le Soliel to discuss the next production, an operetta with no intricate ballet due to the absence of Madame Giry and Meg. Even Yvette Dubois was apparently still indisposed; in fact the rumor was that she was enceinte.

But that was not the rumor that shook Raoul to his very core. No, indeed, it was the wicked gossip regarding Meg that had his heart on the floor. The moment Raoul entered the theater, he sensed something in the air. The ballet rats began snickering. The tenor shot him a sympathetic look. And the soprano gave him a blatant look of interest.

His presence had never before brought about such a strange tension. Raoul mentioned this to Francois, who had been endearingly unaware that anything was amiss. But concerned that the vicomte had been offended, the older man had immediately pulled aside one of the younger chorus girls to demand an explanation. The girl, Julia, blushed and stuttered, unwilling to look Raoul in the eyes.

"Come now, Julia, tell us what the devil is causing such a disruption to my theater today."

"I really c-cannot say, sir."

"Child, if you do not confess the cause of this this rude behavior towards le vicomte, you will soon be in need of other employment."

Raoul had grimaced, not wishing Francois to threaten the poor girl in such a way. Julia's eyes widened and she glanced over her shoulder as if seeking support. Finding none, she turned back with eyes cast downward and spoke in a very quiet voice. "S-sirs, please f-forgive me…but…t-they have been saying that…M-Meg Giry has s-secretly eloped with…Monsieur Ranier."

Just the thought of such a thing caused Raoul's heart to stop for a moment and his face to pale.

Eloped? No!

Francois bellowed. "What! That is preposterous!"

Raoul struggled for breath against the tightness of his chest, and when he finally spoke, his voice was calmer than his nerves. "Mademoiselle Giry has not eloped. She and her mother are visiting friends on the coast."

Little Julia finally looked up from the floor, but still did not meet the eyes of the vicomte. "That is what they said, yes. B-but the friends are ones that had never before been mentioned, sir. And they…d-did not leave an address…nor give a return date. And…M-monsieur Ranier told…one of the girls…that he was intending to travel soon with…with the woman he planned to m-marry."

At that, Raoul felt sick. Every word the girl spoke had the ring of truth. Images of Meg in Ranier's arms came rushing to him, one after another. He heard Francois shouting again over the ringing in his own ears.

"That lying weasel! Madame Giry would never allow such a thing, girl! I will not have those ladies gossiped about in my theater! Do you all hear me?"

The staff scattered to the winds, leaving Raoul standing alone with Francois and feeling as though someone had run him through with a sword. The older man laid a reassuring hand on Raoul's shoulder. "My boy, you must not listen to such nonsense. That bastard undoubtedly wanted to stir up trouble."

"Y-yes, of course." He responded automatically.

But Raoul was thinking of how uneasy Meg had looked each time she had spoken of her journey. How insistent she had been that Raoul would not accompany her. That he was not to expect a letter right away. The note she had sent him from Calais was beyond brief, saying only that they had arrived safely. She had given no address to write to her, and there had been no return address on the envelope. What if...?

As if reading his thoughts, Francois shook his head. "Meg would never have done such a thing."

But what if she had? And such a thing was surely not beyond Ranier. God, no! Not again!

Raoul tried to rid the wicked thoughts from his head, searching for composure. He had to know the truth. "If…you will excuse me, Francois."

Raoul was moving towards the doors before he'd completed the words. He heard Francois calling after him to wait, but he did not stop. He mounted his horse and set off in the direction of the Opera Populaire. He barely remembered the short ride, his mind in turmoil thinking of the all the tiny signs that seemed to lend authority to the horrible rumor.

Once at the Opera, Raoul forced his way into the building, demanding to see Jean Ranier; praying that the man was still in Paris and the gossip was entirely false. It was Ranier's assistant, a wiry little man in bottle cap glasses named Manet, who informed him, with no uncertainty, that Monsieur Ranier had left on the morning train to Calais last Monday on most important business. He had not known when he was to return, but he had assured his assistant that when he did, the Opera would have a new star.

Raoul felt heartsick, blindly wandering out of the building into the Paris streets. Everything he had heard today seemed to point to another betrayal, but Raoul could not bring himself to believe such a thing of Meg.

But she never told you she was in love with you. She asked you for time, just as Christine had. And Christine left you…for that monster by all indications. Why would Meg want you when Christine had not?

Raoul pressed a hand against his eyes, struggling to keep his emotions under control. Anger, pain, jealousy, and doubt all warred within him for dominance.

Ranier had been on Meg's train. They had gone together. She could be with him now.

But it was a tiny little flicker of hope that would not be denied.

Meg had no reason to lie to you. If she had wanted Ranier, she would never have told you otherwise.

In his heart, Raoul knew that Meg would not have deceived him, but Jean Ranier was not beyond using deception to achieve his goals. Raoul had heard of the methods the man had employed in some previous business dealings. Was it not possible that all of this was a ploy to drive a wedge between Raoul and Meg? And Ranier would be waiting to capitalize.

No. It will not be that easy.

Raoul would not simply stand idly by and let Jean Ranier play with their lives in such a way. He would hear the truth from Meg's own lips. He'd allowed Christine to slip away from him without a word, and he would not allow it to happen a second time.

Decision made, Raoul mounted his horse again and returned home. His parents were not in, and he was grateful for it, as he would not have to face making an explanation to them for his haste. He quickly packed a bag and informed his footman of his plans. Not half an hour later he was on his way to the Paris Station.

He could only hope that his path to Meg would not turn cold in Calais.

A/N: Poor Raoul...he's off hunting wabbits...I mean rabbits...oh that darn plot bunny.