A/N: Hello all! Just before you get the story, I'd just like to say that this has got to be one of my favourite chapter so far... things are taking a slightly different turn now... enjoy!

Nicole: Thanks! I'm glad I've managed to impress a new reader! Hope you enjoy this chapter.

Chapter Ten

When they arrived at the ball the dancing had already begun, and couples, young and old, were twirling round the chessboard dance floor. Erik and Ellisa entered at the top of the huge staircase, and were greeted by a steward wearing a plain black mask. He stepped forward, and bowed deeply.

"Welcome, Monsieur, Madame." Ellisa nodded and smiled at the young steward; Erik was too busy trying to quell the growing panic in the pit of his stomach to respond. It was only when they reached the bottom of the staircase that the implications of the steward's words hit him.

"He called you Madame, as though we were man and wife." He murmured, frowning down at Ellisa. "Why did you not correct him?" Ellisa looked away, flushing slightly, and Erik shook his head smilingly at the young girl's foolishness, but said nothing. They walked onto the dance floor in companionable silence until Ellisa turned towards him and held out her hands. Erik knew what she wanted – to dance with him - but he was flustered… the truth was, living where he did, he didn't have much opportunity for dancing…

"Ah, perhaps it would be best if we just - " But his words fell on deaf ears, as at that moment Ellisa took his hands in her own. His right hand she placed on her waist (ever the gentleman, he let it stray no lower) and his left hand she clasped in her own. Slowly, in time with the waltzing rhythm of the music drifting across the huge room from the orchestra, shedanced him around the floor. Erik for once was more than happy to let someone else take the lead, and he found himself realising that the warmth of her body against his was not entirely… objectionable…

No! Erik sharply shook himself, earning a confused look from his dance partner. He shouldn't think that way, mustn't think that way… she was only a child…

The beat of the music quickened, and Erik found himself twirled around the dance floor, surrounded by masks, fantastic faces… people….

Erik was somewhat amused to note the looks Ellisa was receiving from her fellow ballet girls: they were looks of envy, furious envy… but at what? Was it her dress, or the way she looked? Erik shook his head, silently thinking that women were one mystery he would never understand, little realising that he himself was the object of the girls' envy!

The music ended, and as the orchestra took time for a brief reprieve, so those on the dance floor dispersed towards the drinks tables as well. Erik, with Ellisa's arm comfortably hooked in the crook of his, headed towards the most deserted spot he could find – which was difficult, considering the fact that almost all of Parisian high society had turned out for the popular annual masquerade ball.

"A drink, m'amselle?" Erik asked teasingly, handing Ellisa a glass of champagne. He himself selected a malt whisky. He had a feeling he might be needing a little Dutch courage in reserve, just in case. And no sooner had he finished his glass than it was called upon, for a voice called out to Ellisa:

"My girl! Come here!" Ellisa turned, andexclaimed in delight;

"Mother!"

Oh, dear… Erik swallowed, obliged to accompany Ellisa as she ran into the arms of the expectant woman – her mother.

The woman, Erik noted, looked much like her daughter, though the years had not been kind to her. What was it Ellisa had told him? That her parents had been sohard-up they had had to send her to the corps de ballet at the age of five or else be made paupers?

"And who," Ellisa's mother asked as she pulled herself from her daughter's embrace, wiping away a tear as she did so, "is this?" She gave her daughter a glowing look. "Yourdashing suitor you spoke of?"

Ellisa giggled and pulled Erik forward.

"Yes. Mother, meet… Erik Valencio. Erik, this is my mother." Erik knew full well that he was not the 'young suitor' the girl's mother spoke of, but decided to entertain her little game nonetheless.

"Madame." He said courteously, bowing and allowing his lips to brush the tips of the woman's fingers. As he did so, he felt a curious thrill rush through him. It was not the woman that caused such feelings, he knew, more the action, so everyday, others took it for granted… but for one night, he too could be a normal man! The thought filled him with such joy that when he looked back up he was smiling widely. "It is a pleasure, Madame, a pleasure. Ellisa has told me so much about you."

Ellisa's mother flushed – very reminiscent of the daughter, Erik mused – and said;

"Please, Monsieur, call me Madeline." Erik nodded in assent. Madeline sighed slightly and glanced around. Absent-mindedly, she said; "You know, Monsieur, you share the forename of my dear husband… he is about somewhere… if only I could find him…" Erik immediately stiffened at the mention of his namesake – the man who had first stolen Ellisa from him – but fortunately Madeline misinterpreted his reaction. She laughed, the same hearty, somewhat surprising sound her daughter let out when amused or delighted by something.

"Oh, don't worry, my dear, he is not too overprotective – true, you are a little older than Ellisa, but then again I was scarcely a girl when we married – and I am sure you will get on. Don't look so scared!" Erik nodded, and took a deep, steadying breath. Ellisa, looking up and seeing the deathly pallor of his already pale face, pulled him away and spoke quietly.

"Do not fear. I will not let what happened last time happen again. This night is our night." The girl's mother looked on patiently. Erik nodded, grateful for the child's soft words of comfort and encouragement. He wondered briefly if what he was feeling now was what all men felt when meeting the parents of the girl they were in love with…

The thought jolted him like a bolt of lightning. In love with? Was he in love with Ellisa? Was this feeling – the comfort of another being in his arms – was this love? But surely love was meant to be a fire, a passion beyond all bounds? God knew he felt no passion for Ellisa…

But what did he feel for her? Why did she, without even realising it, have such power over him? And would he ever truly understand?

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Ellisa's father, Erik Denuar, watched from the balcony of the grand escalier as Ellisa laughed and flirted with the man by her side. Ellisa's father recognised the man, who seemed completely oblivious to the girl's gentle flirtations.

Erik Denuar watched as his daughter glowed under the shy smile of the masked man, the phantom… her teacher. He watched as his wife tittered under the steady gaze of the man, and he watched as Ellisa twirled him onto the dance floor, her slight body fitting almost perfectly with his.

He watched as the man's presence gave his daughter so much happiness and he sighed, knowing that, at last, the time had come for him to give his daughter up.

He would not complain. As long as his child, his precious child, was happy, he would endure silently whatever pain should come to him, as doubtless it would. He would let her go… because he loved her, he would let her go.

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A/N: Sorry it's so short! The next chapter will hopefully be more active... and trust me, the little twist in Erik and Ellisa's relationship is as much a surprise to me as to anyone else! Please review!