Thanks for all the reviews! You don't know how much they made me happy! Chapter nineteen to you all and tons of huggles!
Ethalas Tuath'an: You never know if Erik is jealous or not because it's never really from his point of view. Personally, and also as the author, Erik is not very jealous because he knows that Loralee does not return the feelings to Vincent. Thanks for being such a devoted reviewer!
Angelic Flutist: Oh my! Thanks for all those reviews! It's great to have you back. I loved the "unicorn" part in chapter 16, too. It just kinda came to my mind and I put it down. Hmm, the "hopelessly romantic" does work when you compare Vincent to Raoul. Do you remember what word you were looking for, though? You've really got my curiosity now! Thanks for being such a wonderful reviewer and a bear hug to you too!
Erik'sLittleLotte: Ha! Well, I shall give you Vincent for a while to hug and squeeze if you wish. Thanks for the review!
HiddenOperaAngel: I'm not really against Christine that much, but I am mad at her for leaving Erik and going with Raoul. The biggest mistake in her life according to me. And yes, Vincent is quite the fop. According to Angelic Flutist, he's more "Helplessly Romantic" though. Thank you so much for all the enthusiasm!
Chapter Nineteen: Dinner?
Loralee saw Erik get up but motioned him to sit back down. He didn't sit back down but instead stood still watching the door carefully, ready to flee at any moment.
"I'm sorry, Monsieur Badeau, but I am currently indecent," she replied, shrugging on her robe so that it hid her dress. Erik smirked at her excuse.
"Ah, I see I have come at the wrong time. I shall wait out here until you are descent so that we can talk to each other, unembarrassed."
Loralee rolled her eyes at the door, starting to get annoyed at Vincent's boyish stubbornness.
She turned back around into room and almost burst out laughing again when a faint tune reached her ears. It was Vincent humming a lullaby, most likely meant to soothe her as she 'became descent.' It normally would have been incredibly romantic or touching, yet Vincent managed to make it comical with his horrible tune.
When it reached Erik's ears, he just cringed, face contorted into disgust at it's ugliness. The look on his face only made Loralee produce a rather loud and most un-lady like snort of laughter which would have produced fits of giggles if it weren't for Erik's hand soon covering her mouth. Vincent luckily took no notice, though.
"Close your eyes, will you?" she whispered to Erik. He realized that she wanted to change and blushed, embarrassed at what she meant, quickly turned to face a dark corner and covering his eyes with his hands. Erik could hear the faint rustle of cloth behind him as Loralee took of her dress. Suddenly it stopped though and his curiosity of why was answered almost immediately.
"Uh, Erik? Can you unlace my corset?"
Turning around, Erik saw Loralee in only her underdressed and corset. Her milky white skin seemed so smooth in the candle light and her black hair was falling out of it's bun, swishing down into her face. Her face was red with embarrassment at the request, but he realized he must be blushing at the odd situation, too.
"Uh - of course. . ."
Erik went up and as quickly and swiftly as he could, untied her corset. Half way through, Vincent had enough courage to speak up. The very idea that he was bold enough to say what he did to a complete stranger he just met made her jaw drop.
"Um, this does sound absurd of me to think of such a thing, but if you're having trouble with your corset, I'd be willing to undo it. . ."
Erik chuckled softly behind her, his breath catching her ear and making goose bumps crawl up her arm. She suddenly had images of him caressing her back as he sang to her a song of love while she started to fall asleep on his lap. His warm breath was hitting across her face and making her hair flutter in the dream, his lips brushing against her own.
Snap out of it, Loralee! she said to herself, suddenly quite afraid of her mind's image even though it made her feel like she was on cloud nine. The fact that it involved Erik in a seductive manner made her blush crimson and mentally slap her.
Then she remembered Vincent's suggested request of her.
"Monsieur, I am quite capable of my own business, thank you very much. I'm quite good at independent work."
"Humblest apologies, Mademoiselle."
"And please do stop calling me Mademoiselle. Just Lor- I mean Beth will do, please," she said, just catching herself in time. Quiet came once again and Erik spoke up again.
"Independent, eh? Maybe then I shall let you do the rest."
"Oh, quiet," she hissed. "It's just to get him off my bloody back!"
"Language, Loralee. Language," he said before finishing the laces on her corset. He helped slip it off of her body before turning back to the corner.
It took Loralee only a minute to slip into the night gown and pull her white robe over it. She tapped Erik on the shoulder to signal she was finished and ushered him to the side of the room so Vincent wouldn't see him if she opened the door a little.
Taking a deep breath, Loralee went over to the door. Right next to it, she let out an unusually loud yawn, the best one she could do, but Erik saw it was fake and on purpose. It resulted in him lifting an eyebrow in amusement.
Opening the door a crack, Loralee looked out. Vincent turned around to face her, his clean shaven face clearly startled and amazed when he saw the girl he admired before him in a night gown and robe. She made sure she covered up all her scars, though, so that he wouldn't ask any questions.
"I'm sorry, Monsieur Badeau, but my room is hardly fitting to talk in, and I'm growing quite weary to this ought to be short."
She stepped out into the hall, closing the door behind her. Vincent gazed at Loralee, face still in awe. When she cleared her throat, he snapped out of his trance, though, and stood up straight.
Loralee then noticed how handsome Vincent really was. He had light brown hair which was pulled back into a small ponytail. His out fit was of wealth and high class and showed off his well muscled yet well fed body. His dark brown eyes showed his emotions like a crystal ball, though, which Loralee found quite unnerving.
"What would you like to say, Monsieur? It must be important." She couldn't help but feel amused yet slightly guilty of her hold over the naive man even though he was about two years older than her.
"Ah, yes. It is rather important. I was wondering if I may take the pleasure of courting you, Mademoiselle McLay. It would be an honor even Zeus would treasure."
His cheesy lines made her mouth corners flit upwards for a fraction of a second in humor at his desperate attempt to court her. She then turned grave as she looked back to him.
"I. . . I don't know what to say," she said after a while of desperate but useless thinking. The answer she gave was completely true. She didn't want to hurt Vincent's innocent feelings but then again, she didn't very much like the idea of being Vincent's lover. Vincent took her answer as if she were speechless because of joy at his his request. He held up his hand with a cheery grin.
"It's all right, Mademoiselle. I know it is very rare that a man walks up to some one and asks them courtship, but the moment I first saw you and the work you did, I fell for you. I was hoping you were as flattered as you are now."
Loralee almost slapped him to give him some sense, but immediately scolded herself for such horrid thoughts and bit the inside of her lip. She almost yelped with surprise and annoyance when he took her hand and held it in his.
"Please, Mademoiselle McLay. You need not say more. It makes me happy to see you so speechless at my wish."
She was about to tell him he was making a mistake, but was cut off by Vincent himself.
"I shall take you to dinner, then? You could get dressed. I'll go and ready our carriage and then come back in a few minutes to get you," he said, before kissing her hand twice and walking away.
Loralee looked at Vincent's back as he started walking away and then snapped out of her shock. Could he really be that naive? she thought before shouting out.
"Wait!"
Vincent turned to face her.
"Yes, my dear?" he asked as if they had been courting for some time.
"I can't go."
"Why not?" he asked, suddenly sad.
"I. . . I'm too tired," she finished lamely.
"Nonsense!" Vincent laughed out. He waved off the excuse and turned back around to go off again. "Tiredness is not an excuse. This will be a night you'll never forget."
Loralee's jaw dropped and she stormed back into her room none to gracefully, slamming the door behind her.
"Erik, get me out of her!" she said out loud, not caring who heard. She stormed to the mirror and stood in front of it, arms crossed, and glaring at Erik to come over and open it. He just looked back at her, smile on his face. Loralee had spent way too much time around him.
"No, I think I'll help you put back on your corset so then you can go out to dinner with Monsieur Vincent Badeau."
"Pishposh. . ." she muttered, clawing desperately at the mirror frame as if to free herself from the world of reality. A hand on her upper arm lead her away from the mirror and over to the wardrobe.
"Now, pick a dress," he said, evil smile on his face, obviously pleased that his friend was going through such tortures. She glared at him while pointing randomly into the closet.
"That one," she said. His eyes widened when he saw which dress it was.
"You really want that one?" she asked, humor clearly evident in his voice. Loralee, not sure, looked around and came across a dress she had worn while she was a chorus member in a Opera production. It was a gypsy dress with a dark brown corset on the outside, embroidered with golden leaves. It had a wispy and thin skirt of dark purple cloth and a off the shoulder shirt of light pink, roses embroidered on the lace lining. The sleeves went down in puffs to end in gold cuffs at her wrists.
"Um, no. . ." she said, taking the dress from Erik's hands and stuffing it back into the closet.
"Which one then."
"How about, you just shut these doors, walk over to the mirror, open it, and guide your good friend Loralee down to safety from the lunatic and idiotic Vincent."
This did nothing except humor Erik even more.
"Fine then," she said. "If you really wish me torture that much, Erik, I shall wear that dress."
She motioned to a black mourning dress in the far side of the closet complete with a black lace hat and black silk gloves. Erik chuckled and fingered the dress. Loralee stared dismally at the dress, truly hating the idea of ever speaking with Vincent out in the hallway. Erik saw the distressed look on her face in a side long glance and let his fingers fall from her black dress.
"You really hate me for doing this to you, don't you?" he asked her, turning to face her. She looked up, surprised at his sudden understanding.
"Well, I guess so. . ." she said.
"Then I shall grant your wish and take you to my house." Loralee broke out into a smile, a little stunned at the usually stubborn letting her win an argument, but then hugged him shortly before shutting the wardrobe doors.
"Thank you, Erik!" she said.
"I do admit," Erik said mischievously, a smirk slowly creeping onto his face, "that Monsieur Badeau will make quite a show."
Loralee looked at him questioningly.
"We can watch from behind the mirror at his reaction of you not in your room."
Loralee's eyes widened before covering her mouth to stop the giggles from coming out. Understanding, she went over and unlocked her door, opening it to that it would swing open when he knocked. Just as she did so, she could hear his hasty step down the hallway, headed straight towards his doors.
Erik was at the mirror, a hand out stretched to her, welcoming her into the tunnel. She took it and both of them disappeared behind the mirror just as Vincent came up.
"My dear Mademoiselle McLay! The carriage is waiting and we shall go to the finest restaurant in all of Paris."
There was a pause in which Loralee was supposed to say something, but of course, she wasn't there.
"Mademoiselle? Do you like the idea? We could change it if it doesn't suit your tastes."
No answer.
"Please, do say something Mademoiselle. You're frightening me. Mademoiselle? Mademoiselle McLay!"
Vincent then started to knock on the door, afraid of Loralee's wellness. He was about to shout out her name again but at the contact of his fist on the wood, the door swung open inwardly. On the other side of the mirror, Loralee clutched Erik's arm with amusement.
"Mademoiselle? Mademoiselle Beth? Are you there? Where did you go?"
He stepped in warily, looking around the shabby and small room. His eye sight lingered warily on the mirror as if he knew they were watching him from behind it, but his gaze moved on not to long afterwards.
"She must have left. . ." he said, not believing what he saw. "But she-"
His sentence was cut off when he saw a pair of black leather gloves resting on the bed. Loralee was about to scold Erik for being so careless, but from the look on Erik's face, she realized he left them there on purpose.
"You evil man!" she hissed to him. He just smirked down at her.
"Can I have some fun with him?" he asked, like a boy asking for candy. Loralee rolled her eyes.
"As long as you don't harm him," Loralee said, sighing.
Both turned back to see Vincent slowly walk to the gloves.
"What in the world. . ." he muttered to himself. When he got close enough to see they were gloves of a man, he gasped.
"Bloody hell!" he said, reaching out to pick them up.
"Language, Monsieur Vincent Badeau."
Loralee heard Erik's voice echoing around from inside the room but looking up, didn't see him talking.
"You have to teach me ventriloquism," she whispered to him quickly before looking back to Vincent.
Vincent had frozen when he heard Erik's cool voice. He looked up, head darting all over the room, a look of panic clear on his face, fingers inches away from Erik's gloves.
"Who are you?"
"Why, Monsieur, I am ashamed of you. Haven't you ever heard of the Phantom of the Opera?"
Vincent's eyes widened.
"Where are you. Show yourself Phantom!" he said out loud, regaining more of his courage and standing up straight. Not sure where to look when he talked.
"I hide in the shadows is all I can tell you. Now, I must ask, what are you doing in Beth McLay's personal living space?"
"I was going to take her out to dinner. I came back to get her, but she wouldn't reply so I came in."
"Well, may I give you a piece of advice. Beth McLay wishes you not to call on her and is quite bored of your insufferable naive attitude towards everything."
"How dare you speak to me like that, Phantom. I am perfectly able to court who I like, and it is quite obvious that the Mademoiselle would like to court me, too."
"First of all, open up your eyes. You must be blind not to notice her lack of enthusiasm to your courtship. Second of all, you better pay closer attention to her requests. If you remember, she requested that you call her Beth McLay, not Mademoiselle."
"How. . . What. . . But. . ."
"Speechless, Monsieur? I'm glad to see you in such a state."
Loralee was getting cold in the damp tunnel and gave a sharp tug on his sleeve. He looked down at her and she told him to hurry up and get moving.
"I'd ask you, Phantom, not to intrude on my relationship and life with Mademoiselle McLay. She would hate you for bugging me as you do so, now, so halt this ungracious behavior immediately."
"I rarely take orders, Monsieur Badeau. I'm only stopping now because Beth McLay is asking me to do so. If you'd excuse us now. . ."
Loralee watched, amused, as Vincent started yelling for the Phantom to come back and explain to him how in the world was Loralee with him. Erik just smiled at him and soon had Vincent running out of the room.
"Come on," Loralee yawned, tugging him down the tunnel. "Let's go home."
He looked at her amazed.
Did she just call his house 'home'? Did she really think his hell was her heaven?
A smile flickered on his face as he followed Loralee through the passageways to his - no - their home.