Greetings everyone...Welcome aboard, Virtual Unicorn! As mentioned before, Erik isn't mine. He belongs to all of us through the genius of Leroux and Webber. A side note, I finally got to read Kay's 'Phantom"..isn't it interesting that I picked Charles as the name of the scarred man, as that was Erik's father's name in her story?

Chapter Sixteen: Thank You, Monsieur

Phillipe excused himself, "I must be off now."

Erik offered a slice of orange he was peeling to Emily, who took it from him with a smile. She wiped her fingers on the napkin in her lap and looked up.

"I have something for you," he pulled a key from his vest pocket. "At the end of the Rue de Tanger is a dock where a boat will be moored. This key fits the cabin door which we keep locked at night. If for any reason you do not feel safe returning to your apartment, I want you to make your way to the boat and lock yourself in. The name on the stern is Erebus."

Emily took the key with narrowed eyes, "You are giving me the key to hell?"

Erik was pleased she knew the name. "You have read the Greek Myths?"

"During the summer with my Grandfather," she had to ask, "are your other boats similarly named?"

"Yes, after the myths," he replied. "Things are going to start moving quickly now, Madame. As we involve Gaultier, and start acting on some of our evidence I don't want to take any chances with your safety. There may also be some times when I will not be available during the day."

"Traveling as the other man?" she asked.

He nodded, offering her another slice of the orange. Intuition told her he was not comfortable talking about his old identity. "So if I have to use the key, I just stay a while or wait till dawn?"

"At least the night. If you are uncomfortable for any reason, do not expose yourself by trying to return to your apartment, or to this house. Those are the two places someone would know about, but not the boat. Javier and I would both check the boat if you did not return home."

She sat back, putting the napkin on the table. It gave her a moment to think. She looked directly at him. "So you know more than you are going to tell me."

He arched an eyebrow, "You say I am a magician. How shall I maintain my 'illusions' if I tell you all my secrets?"

There was a short rap at the door and Javier's voice, "I smell coffee."

This was so much in keeping with his latest run of luck. Just when the chance arose to ask Emily how she liked the earrings, Javier stops by early.

"Ah, good morning to you both," Javier appeared in the doorway.

"Good Morning," Emily said. She was a little put out; she had been trying to decide the best way to thank Monsieur for the gift when Javier popped in.

Erik arose from the table, "Thank you for joining me for breakfast, Madame."

Javier stuck his head in the door, "I didn't get invited," he complained. He disappeared into the kitchen.

"You didn't go to the theater," Emily replied leading the way into the hall with De La Shaumette behind her. If she left, he might take her silence as displeasure at his gift. She had to tell him something.

When she got close to the bottom of the stairs she quickly took a step up on one, turning to glance to see that the kitchen door had swung closed. On an impulse she bent towards him, grasping his coat by the lapel, she tugged on it and he stepped towards her.

It happened so quickly. Her hand was on his shoulder and she was leaning towards him. Softly, he felt her lips brush his cheek. She lingered a second and said, "Thank you for the earrings."

Every fiber of his being had awakened. He captured her hand as it retreated from his shoulder. She was wearing that smile again. He wanted to speak but doubted the words would come. God, Emily, you don't know what you are doing to me.

His eyes were so intent on her face; she hoped she had only surprised him. She knew some people did not care to be touched, and hoped this was not the case for him. Then he turned her hand and placed a kiss on her palm. His larger hand holding hers so gently, how did he make so small a gesture seem so very intimate? He closed his eyes, and turned his face into her palm as would a cat seeking to be stroked. She would have let him have that hand for the rest of the day if it weren't for Javier bumping around in the kitchen.

The feel of flesh against flesh, so small a thing to others, so profound to him, Erik bent his head and placed her palm against his face until he was forced to release her as he heard Javier at the kitchen door.

He stepped back and let her step off of the stair. "Good Day, Madame," he said quietly.


Emily arrived at Hugette Pinson's home in a carriage with Phillipe. Overcoming his mistrust of guns, he now carried the shotgun while Emily carried the rifle. Joining the shooting party at the rear of the estate, Hugette made the rounds of introductions to people who had not previously met Emily.

As they came to the place where Jules Gaultier waited, Emily saw a striking young man next to him. M. Gaultier shook her hand in greeting, "Madame, this is my son Blaise."

The younger Gaultier reflected little of his father, except for the intense blue eyes. He was tall with dark blonde hair and a close cropped van dyke style beard. He bent over her hand and kissed it, "I am so glad to meet you at last Madame. We have been following your progress through Madame Pinson's column since your near disastrous arrival."

Emily smiled, "I never intended to come to France and be famous."

"Oh, but Madame's employment is quite unique, and you were brought over by M. De La Shaumette," Blaise replied.

Hugette had managed to secure one of the machines which hurled small clay 'pigeons' as targets for the demonstration of the guns. Several of the other men in the party took turns showing off their skills as well as Emily. She used the rifle, but later displayed the shotgun and offered it to anyone who wished to take a turn firing it.

When Jules stepped up and took his turn, Emily stood by with her rifle held in one crooked arm. He squeezed off to shots using the gun then asked her questions about ammunition. Blaise stood to one side listening. Evidently he did not share his father's enthusiasm for guns because he commented that a shotgun didn't seem a good weapon as its range was so short.

"On the contrary, Monsieur," Emily replied. "A shotgun's advantage is its short range." She gestured to a nearby table that was set up with a coffee urn. "I can turn that table into firewood with one shot." He turned to look in the direction she pointed. "A shotgun can splatter a large number of small pellets over a short distance."

"What kind of range can you get from the rifle," Jules asked.

"One to two miles," she replied. "The higher grain of shot and the shape of the bullet itself determine how far it will travel." Blaise looked doubtful of her claim so she added, "No one wants to get close to a very angry bear."

"I need to get back to the house, Phalene was to arrive shortly. I'll bring her out," Blaise said, retreating.

Jules turned to Emily, "That is my daughter. She has not slept well since her mother's death."

"Oh, I must apologize. I did not know of your loss."

"It has been two years," he began, "my wife died of a tumor in the spine. In a way it was merciful that she did leave us, her pain was incredible towards the end. In her last weeks she was under the doctors orders to increase the morphine. At the last she passed peacefully."

"I understand. Many of the veterans of our Civil War used morphine. It was a great boon to those who suffered in pain."

"Would you care for a coffee, Madame?" he gestured toward the table.

"Only if you promise to start calling me Emily," she teased.

"Very well, Emily." He looked towards the house. "Here is Phalene now," he said smiling. He gave a short wave to his two children as they approached.

Blaise approached with a young woman on his arm. Similar in likeness, the younger girl was darker haired than her brother. "Madame Griggs, may I introduce my sister Phalene."

Emily was shocked at how pale the girl was. "How do you do," she said grasping the girl's hand.

Her handshake felt weak and her hand slid from Emily's. She lowered her head in a nod, "So pleased to meet the famous Madame." Even her voice sounded as if it took effort to speak. The girl had not let go of Blaise's arm. He stood very close as if to support her weight Although her skin seemed bloodless, her eyes shone and her hair looked lustrous. Her face held a strange dreaminess.

Emily had witnessed that look before. Although the body retained the look of health the brain was slowly being poisoned by a drug. Evidently, her mother was not the only one who had relied on a drug to wash away the pain.

Hugette Pinson joined them, giving Phalene a peck on the cheek. "It's so good to see you out, my dear." Phalene gave her a warm smile. "And here is Giles. Madame Griggs, have you met Giles Charbonneau?" The young man approaching was trying to catch the errant edges of a lap blanket. His hair was an unruly mass of brown curls, his attire was obviously the latest trend, and his dark eyes were curiously bright as he looked at Emily.

"Ah," he breathed. "Ah, Madame Griggs! A pleasure! I have heard so much about you!" He grappled with the blanket edges and then reached quickly for Emily's hand, gripping it soundly. "I work for Monsieur Chalin. We have been handling the Remington imports!"

"How do you do," Emily replied hoping he would soon let go of her hand which he was still shaking.

She gave a little tug and noticed the censuring gaze Blaise turned on Giles. Giles must have felt it for he dropped her hand as if it had caught fire; glancing at the blanket he offered it to Phalene. "Are you cold, Phalene?"

She closed her eyes slowly, turning her head slightly and smiling, "No, dearest Giles. I am quite warm right now. Perhaps taking the air has revived me."

Jules Gaultier reached for his daughter's hand. "Would you care for a coffee?"

"No, papa, I would like to sit down though," she glanced around.

Giles volunteered, "I'll bring you a chair," and promptly started looking for one. Hugette gestured toward the side of the table where the coffee urn was sitting and followed him over to it. She took the blanket from him as he brought over two chairs. "Would you also like a chair Madame?" he asked.

"No, thank you." Emily replied. She cast a glance over a Phillipe who was talking to one of the other guests. She nodded towards him, "Giles, have you ever met Phillipe Robillard?"

"Well, I haven't had the pleasure. He usually deals with M. Chalin directly."

"Come, I'll introduce you then." Emily took a hold of Giles arm, guiding him towards Phillipe. Giles glanced quickly at Blaise who stood watching. Interesting, Emily thought, Giles seems to seek his approval. As they stepped away, Emily wrapped her arms around Giles proffered arm in a companionable way and stepped closer. Smiling she said, "The boat was a mistake?"

Giles turned his head so quickly it surprised Emily that there was not an audible snapping sound. She gripped his arm still smiling and said, "We must be careful. We must appear casual," she nodded as though he had said something to her. Giles started to turn his head but Emily warned, "You look to Blaise, is he part of this as well?"

Giles looked forward again. "We did not mean any harm Madame. You must believe that. It was an accident. Please, De La Shaumette is a powerful man, he would ruin us."

She held up a hand, "Do not fear, Giles. He only wants to be assured it was a mistake. I still consult with him about the imports as you know. I can reassure him, but you must be honest with me."

Giles affected a laugh, and gestured towards Phillipe. "Madame," he began quietly, "we only do it for Phalene. Believe me that is all I can tell you. Blaise will be angry. We love her Madame. What happened was a mistake. It will not be repeated."

Emily heard the sincerity in his voice. He was either greatly contrite or a very good liar. She nodded in agreement. "I understand. But know this. If anything else happens, De La Shaumette will not be pleased. You do not want to make that man angry." She looked in his eyes, seeing his slight nod of agreement. "Phillipe," she said, "I want to introduce you to Giles Charbonneau." As they shook hands she added, "If you need anything, Phillipe will be happy to assist you."

Emily stepped back and watched one of the other guests take a shot. She was aware that Blaise still watched Giles with Phillipe. She would have to get this information back to Monsieur, as Phillipe had not heard all of what had passed between her and Giles. Although Giles had tried to reassure her, instinct told her that Blaise could still cause trouble.