DISCLAIMER: Please refer to Chapter Two

Erik sat by Cecilia's door for hours. He could hear the muffled sounds of her crying through the door. His heart broke to know he had caused her so much pain.

He felt completely helpless. He had no idea what to do.

She must be so angry with me. I cannot blame her. She must think I am such a fool. A poor desperate sex-starved fool.

The day dwelled on and quickly turned into night. Erik has fallen asleep at the foot of Cecilia's door as she emerged.

She was wearing her torn blue dress again. Her hair was pinned up as neatly as possible. Her blue eyes looked down at Erik as he lay asleep. Crouching down to his level, she placed her hand on his shoulder.

"Erik…" she whispered, "Erik….."

He stirred quickly beneath her touch. His reddened green eyes stared at her apologetic and sad.

"Cecilia…I am so sorry," he began.

"No, Erik. It is I who must be sorry. Do not fret about it."

"Is there anything I can do for you?"

"Actually…" her voiced trailed off. "Do you think you could take me home?"

His heart sank at her request. She must really be disappointed in me. She doesn't want to be with me here anymore.

"Of course. Give me a few minutes," he said as he rose to his feet. As he walked to his bedchamber, he stared back at her. He watched as she fiddled with her dress and walked toward the sitting room.

The boat ride was silent as Erik and Cecilia reached the end of the riverbed just outside of the Opera Populaire. Cecilia gasped as she once again saw the stars. How I have missed this. How I have missed the world.

As Erik helped her out of the boat, he led her to the hidden stable just beyond the edge of the forest.

"Really, Erik, you do not have to go out of your way. I can catch a carriage."

"No. I would like to ensure that you arrive home safely. It is awfully late in the evening, and shady types linger around here at night."

"Very well." She had come to the conclusion that there was no use in arguing with him. "Do you know where I live?"

"No, not really. I only know it is on the outskirts of the city. I was near there once before. Your father, if I can recall, owned a great deal of land. I am sure I can find it."

She restricted herself from speaking as she mounted the beautiful ebony horse. While she adjusted her skirt to allow her side-saddle position to be more comfortable, she felt Erik mount the horse behind her. He gathered the reins in his hands and held her close to his with his elbows as they began to trot into the darkness.

It took them about an hour or so to reach her father's home. As Erik pulled up to the large rod-iron gate, he looked down at Cecilia.

"It looks rather dark."

"Yes. I fired all of my father's servants shortly after his death. I was so stricken with mourning and emotion that every sight of them reminded me of him. Also, I did not need gossipy maids poking around my manor while I was tending to father's funeral and estate."

"I do not blame you. As you probably have guessed, I do not like people around either."

"Do you want to stay? It is terribly late. I realize a single woman having a single man in her abode is looked down upon by society, and trust me until recently I would have not allowed it, but nevertheless, I would like it if you could stay. I have many rooms and as you can guess many more music rooms."

"I do not think so. I must be going."

"Why? You do not have any plans. There is no opera to haunt. I have stables in the rear of the house for your horse, and like I said, it is very late. You should not be traveling at this hour. I will not take "no" for an answer Monsieur Phantom."

Erik realized there was no arguing with Cecilia. There were no other people around, and he was far enough away from the city to at least have some peace and quiet. He quickly talked himself into the idea. At least she doesn't hate me. That's a good start.

He nodded as he made his way to the stables. Cecilia, rather pleased to be home, walked up the cobblestone path to her rather large front door. Realizing that her key was missing, she began lifting stones in her front path to find her hidden spare.

One…two….three….four…this must be it. Straining to see in the dark, she knocked on the larger stones closest to the door. After a few minutes of searching, she was able to locate the loose one and extracted the rather rusty key that lay underneath.

As she opened her door, she could smell her father. The smell of his pipe suddenly came back to her as she remembered her last moments with him. He had collapsed in this doorway. They were going to go on their morning walk around the grounds so he would spy on his garden and see how his precious roses where doing. He was so upset when winter had come. His once perfectly red roses had begun to shrivel with the falling of the snow. Still, he visited them everyday. On that morning he wasn't himself. His breathing had become coarse, and he seemed to walk abnormally. He fell as he reached their front door and Cecilia, hearing the noises from her upstairs bedroom, rushed down to the foot of the stairs as the servants tended to him. Gaston, their butler, went to seek a doctor as Isabelle, their head of the household, ran to get some wash cloths and blankets. Cecilia fell to her knees at her father's side.

"Mon Pere! Are you alright?" she wept.

"Ma chere, do not cry. I fear…I fear….it is time," he replied to her.

"Time for what?"

"It is time for me to see your mother once again."

Tears had rolled down her face uncontrollably once he finished speaking. She gathered him in her arms and kissed his forehead.

"Did I ever tell you Cecilia how much you look like your mother? Thank the good Lord that you were blessed with her pretty face…" he began, "I loved her so… so much. I thank God every morning and every night for her and for you. For a man…with such a horrid face…I never deserved her, but bless her soul, she loved me."

His eyes grew heavy and his breathing became staggered. "Cecilia, promise me one thing. When you fall in love again, look past the outside. Look beyond the handsome face and elegant clothing and find the man within. Do not marry for money, status, or even beauty. Marry for love, and love alone…"

As he trailed off, he managed to whisper, "Cecilia. I will always be with you. I love you more than you will ever know…"

"Oh, papa…" she cried, "I love you too. More than you will ever know."

He died in her arms before Isabelle could even return with the wash cloths. She sat there with his head in her arms for what seemed like hours until the doctor arrived and pronounced him deceased.

As a tear fell down her cheek, Cecilia heard Erik's voice behind her.

"Cecilia, is something wrong?"

"Oh! Erik!" she said being startled by his presence. "Everything is fine."

She did not want to burden him with more emotional trauma tonight.

"Please so come inside."

As she shut the door behind her, she was pleased to see that Erik was starting a fire. The house had grown rather cold in her absence. She lit a few candles and turned toward Erik.

"Would you like me to take your cloak?" she asked trying to be the most accommodating hostess as possible.

"Do not worry about it; I will take care of it. Thank you for the offer," he replied.

"Well then. I suppose you would like to see the house?"

"That is only if you wish to show me the house. Mind you, you are the one who invited me to stay."

She blushed at his words. He was such a gentleman. She could not believe that he could be such a violent person at times.

"Please follow me," she requested as she gathered her candelabra in her hand and walked toward the kitchen.

As she showed him the kitchen, library, sitting rooms, music rooms, conservatory, and guest rooms, she led him to one of the largest rooms in the house.

As she opened the door, she turned to him and said, "This shall be your room tonight. I hope it is to your liking. As you know the music room is down the hall and the bathroom is to your right. Should you need anything, do not hesitate to ask. The kitchen is yours to roam, and my bedchamber is down at the end of the hall."

He walked into the room as she lit a fire in the fireplace. He was in awe at the deep greens and blues of the room. He marveled at the dark wood furniture which appeared to be almost black once the light of the fire filled the room. As Cecilia lit the few rather large candles, he walked around the room taking in its beauty. Paintings of famous divas dressed in their costumes from Monsieur Deveraux's many operas hung on the elaborately painted walls.

Erik hung his cloak on the edge of the corner chaise as Cecilia drew the large velveteen curtains closed. She then gathered her candelabra and walked to the door.

"Goodnight, Erik. Hope you sleep well."

"Cecilia, you know I rarely sleep," he said as he walked to her. As he neared her, he put his arms around her waist and brought his face within inches of her pretty little nose. "I am really sorry about last night, Cecilia. Please forgive me. It was a mistake, I promise."

"I know it was, Erik. I was foolish…I should never have…"

He backed away from her a bit. "You mean you were aware of what you were doing?"

"Of course I was! Of course, I would never have done…what I did…no easily without some sort of … help, but yes I did it on my own free will."

"You mean… you wanted to…be with me? Were you just doing it to make me forget Christine?"

Cecilia began to feel uncomfortable. "I really should get to bed, Erik. It is late and…"

"Not so fast Cecilia. Please tell me. Did you want to be with me?"

"Yes," she whispered almost inaudibly as her face looked down at the floor in shame, "what you must think of me…"

"Goodnight, Erik," she said as she hurried out of the room. Erik stood in his same spot until he heard her bedroom door shut. A smile crept to his face.

She is not mad at me. She wanted to be with me. The beautiful Cecilia Deveraux wanted to be with me…

He could hardly contain his happiness. He quickly gathered one of the lit candles and hurried to the nearest music room.

This occasion calls for a new composition!