To Eat

Dinner at the Rousseau house was a strange event indeed. In all of his wildest imaginings, Raoul de Chagny had never thought to be sitting across from the Phantom of the Opera enjoying roasted chicken and wine. The man had tried to murder him three times now…or was it four?…and if Raoul tended to obsess just a bit over that fact, he figured it was as good an obsession as any.

Christine sat across from Meg, who continued to studiously ignore the vicomte. Madame Giry sat next to her daughter and just to Raoul's left, conveniently impeding any chance to quietly catch Meg's attention. Christine was the only one even attempting conversation with him, and that was a painful task under Erik's intense glare.

Raoul wanted only to get Meg alone so they could finally talk. He had felt hopeful as he'd watched her descend the stairs, smiling and laughing with Christine about something or other. But the moment Meg had met his eyes; her smile had fallen away once again.

"Raoul...I have not thought to ask you where you are staying in town. Do you have a room?"

Shaking himself from his contemplation, Raoul colored slightly at Christine's question. "I...came straight here before securing a room. But I am certain I will have no difficulty doing so when I return to town." His color deepened. "That is, if I might ask for the loan of a horse to carry me there."

Christine frowned and Erik chuckled in amusement...an amusement that vanished with the next words out of his wife's mouth. "You are welcome to stay with us this evening. Is he not, Erik?" The stern look on her face challenged her husband to refuse her.

"Christine…!" His own expression darkened dangerously.

Raoul cleared his throat. "A kind offer, Christine, but the horse will suffice..."

Christine and Erik continued to glare at one another a moment more before he growled, "You'll not be touching my horses, Vicomte."

With that, Erik stood and left the table. Christine sighed and turned to Raoul with a too bright smile. "There, that is settled. I will have Katie ready a room for you."

And thus, dinner was at an end and Raoul was staying the night. He made a mental note to be certain to lock his door and bolt his windows so he might have the pleasure of waking up in the morning.

Meg excused herself from the table almost immediately, and Raoul was quick to follow. He was determined that this hellish day should have some benefit to it, and he refused to be turned away again.

Meg headed outside to the terrace for air, knowing very well that Raoul was following.

"Meg, please..."

Raoul's hand on her arm stopped her, and she turned to him slowly. There was a purpose in his clear blue eyes that she had never before seen. She had expected him to demand, in his gentlemanly way of course, the conversation she had been avoiding all afternoon. She had not expected to be pulled into his arms on a groan of frustration and kissed senseless.

There was nothing restrained or proper in his possession of her mouth; it was a torment of passion and need and Meg melted helplessly into him. Their surroundings faded into oblivion and all that existed were the exquisite sensations sparking between them.

Denied the incredible feeling of having her in his arms for too long, Raoul was so very tempted to abandon himself completely to the wild excitement she inspired in him. But there were words he needed to say to her, and words he longed to hear. Slowly, reluctantly, he broke their kiss and set her carefully away from him, dragging in a calming breath.

Meg's cheeks were flushed and her breathing uneven. She touched her trembling fingers to her lips as she stared dazedly into his eyes. "What...?"

Raoul smiled softly, cupping her beautiful face in his hands. "Words seem always to be between us, sweet Meg...what we say, what we will not say." He traced a thumb lovingly across her lower lip. "If my words can never be enough, then I will have to find other ways of convincing you how deeply in love with you I am. How my heart races when you are near me. How my soul aches for your smile…your touch. How I cannot bear the thought of you with any other. How I long to hear you tell me that I am not alone in this…"

His hoarsely whispered words were suddenly halted by Meg's lips pressing to his, and Raoul could taste the salt of her tears. Before he could deepen the contact, she pulled back just enough to whisper against his mouth, "You are not alone, my love."

Then she was in his arms once again, kissing him with all the emotion she had been fighting for months. Raoul wrapped her in his arms, pulling her body closer. The sense of rightness engulfed him and his heart nearly burst with happiness. He wanted nothing more than to sweep her into his arms and carry her to some private corner of the world. But despite some of his recent actions, he was still a gentleman, and there was one matter left to be settled.

Pulling away slightly, Raoul smiled down at Meg, memorizing every delicate curve of her face in the moonlight so he could keep this moment forever. "Marry me, Meg? Say that you'll be my wife."

For a moment her face lit with such a happy smile, then it faded and her eyes grew sad. "No. No, Raoul, I cannot."

His own smile disappeared as his heart constricted once again. "But why? You love me?"

Meg sighed, finished with denying her own heart. "Yes. I love you so very much. But…I am only a ballet rat and you are a vicomte. We're from two different worlds."

Raoul's heart lurched. They had only just expelled Christine's ghost and already Meg had thrown up another obstacle between them. But this one, at least, he had been prepared for.

"You are my world, Meg. I care nothing for my title. I will gladly give it up to be with you...to dedicate my life to your happiness. You need not even give up your career if you do not wish to."

Confusion clouded her eyes a moment. "My career? Raoul, do you think I would choose the stage over you? I want nothing more than to be your wife…but not at the sacrifice of your reputation. Or your family."

He shook his head in frustration. "So you will sacrifice our family…the one we might make together? No, Meg…this I will never allow. I love you! My future is yours. If you will not have me now, then I will ask you again tomorrow, and every day after for the rest of my life until you say you will. Please, my love, say you will?"

How could she refuse him that impassioned plea? She could not.

Smiling up at him with love in her eyes, Meg gave him her heart completely. "Yes. Yes…I will."

xXx

Inside the house, Christine approached the music room with trepidation as the melodious chords of the piano grew steadily in ardent crescendo. She sighed, supposing she should be grateful Erik was taking out his displeasure on the piano. His moods were still unpredictable at times, but he had come so far in these past months.

She didn't bother knocking, as she knew he was lost to the music, but quietly turned the knob and slipped inside. She watched him as he played, fully admiring the passion that flowed into the notes, and a little smile tilted her lips. Her husband entered into every endeavor with that same passion, and she had benefited from it most enjoyably.

When the last echoes of the melody finally faded from the room, Erik straightened at the piano.

"I thought you would be seeing to our guests, Christine."

Christine sighed. "Are you very upset with me for inviting Raoul to stay?"

Erik swung around on the bench to face her, his expression unreadable. "Why would you imagine me to be upset that your former fiancée is spending the night in my house?"

"There is really no need for such sarcasm, Erik."

His eyes narrowed. "It keeps me from more destructive ventures."

Christine stepped forward and rested her palm against his cheek. "I am sorry, angel. I only thought that we should not send him away before he and Meg have reached some understanding."

Erik reached up and took Christine's hand in his, an amused grin suddenly playing around the edge of his lips as he gazed up at her. "Are you playing at matchmaker now, mon ange?"

She smiled. "Merely creating opportunity." She bent to press a brief kiss to his mouth. "It is only one night, my love. I promise I will make it up to you."

Erik sighed, reaching out to tangle his fingers in her loose silken curls. The swell of their child pressed between them. "Your love is all the promise I need, Christine."

xXx

Meg and Raoul sat side by side on the terrace. He held her firmly in the circle of his arms, stroking a hand absently up and down her shoulder. She leaned against him, content to listen to the steady rhythm of his heart.

"Tell me again, sweet Meg. I feel as if I have waited a lifetime for this moment."

She smiled. "I love you, Raoul."

"And…?"

"I will marry you."

"Tomorrow?"

Meg drew back from him in surprise. "Raoul!"

"You do not still doubt my feelings?"

She sighed. "How can I after everything that has happened today? Your coming here…seeing Christine again…and yet, you still seem to want me."

Raoul raised a brow. "Seem to? If I have not done an adequate job of proving how very much I want you, I will have to continue in my attempts."

Meg's laughter was quickly smothered by Raoul's mouth over hers. His kiss certainly proved his desire for her, and they both strained to get closer to one another. On a harsh groan, Raoul pulled slightly away from her, his face pressed against her throat. When he spoke , his voice was thick with desire. "Say that you will marry me soon, Meg, or I think I will go mad with wanting you."

Meg shuddered at the feel of his breath on her skin. "Oh Raoul…I would love nothing more than to marry you here and now…but I will not give your parents further reason to dislike me."

He lifted his face then, and his eyes darkened with determination. "They will not stop us Meg, no matter their opinion. And my mother, at least, wishes to know you better."

"Which is why we cannot rush this, Raoul."

He sighed in defeat. "I know you're right. But I find myself wishing we could think only of one another."

Meg drew a shaky breath. She wished that as well, and being pressed against him in such a way had her mind racing with wicked thoughts. She blushed furiously. "Perhaps…we could…if you wish…that is…if we are to be married…"

Raoul shook his head as he realized her meaning. "You are so much a temptation to me, sweet Meg...but we will wait until we are married, else you may no longer feel the need to make an honest man of me."

She gasped. "I…?"

Raoul pressed another quick kiss to her lips. "Yes, you, my love. Only you." His eyes softened on hers as he continued. "Seeing Christine again has only made me more certain of my love for you. Yes…she will always remain very dear to me, as my first love…a kind of ideal, really. But what you and I have found…is as vital to me as breathing. When I thought I had lost you…" His eyes closed as he broke off, his arms reflexively tightening around Meg.

She smiled in wonder. "I still cannot believe you chased me to England."

"What else was I to do? I'd thought…when I heard that Ranier had traveled with you…"

Meg shook her head. "I cannot imagine what Jean thought to gain by such a thing?"

His eyes darkened dangerously. "Can you not? The bastard was, no doubt, hoping to seduce you…while I remained in Paris thinking you had deserted me for him."

She traced a gentle hand across his jaw, smiling up at him. "But you did not remain in Paris. And now Jean has been the means of finally bringing us together."

Raoul narrowed his eyes. "That will not stop me from strangling him when next I see him."

Meg smile turned a little wicked and she raised a brow. "There are far better ways of dealing with Jean, my love. But for the moment..." She reached up and drew her fiancée closer. "Let us not think of him."

And for quite some time, they thought only of one another.

A/N: Well...was it good for you? We still have a little ways to go with the story...so stay tuned.