A mess of flaming red hair, usually hidden beneath a white bonnet, fell upon the face of the young woman on the floor. Erik realized that, in the darkness, he had mistaken her for the scheming Duchess. The woman he had thrown inside lay motionless on the cold tiles.
Christine looked down at her in shock. "Erik! Is she…?"
"No, my dear. She is quite fine," he said soothingly to Christine. But as he spoke to the woman on the floor, his voice grew cold. "Explain yourself, or you shall forever remain silent."
The woman's head spun about as she looked on Erik in fear. She sat up quickly, throwing herself at Raoul's feet, her hands gripping his pants as she pleaded. "Please, Monsieur, please!"
"Michelle, what is the meaning of this?" Raoul asked her with confusion.
"I found her outside the door. She seemed quite interested in what transpired in this room," Erik answered for her.
"Please, Monsieur, speak nothing of this to my mistress. I beg of you. She will beat me if she finds out!" Michelle cried hysterically.
"I would never do such a thing!" Christine yelled indignantly.
Michelle looked at her contritely. "Oh no, Madame Christine. I don't speak of you." She suddenly became silent, her eyes falling to the floor.
"Continue," Raoul prodded coolly.
"You both have shown me such kindness, and all I have returned to you is betrayal." She covered her face with her hands, beginning to sob.
Raoul lifted the chair that sat at Christine's bedside and moved it to the middle of the room. He gently grabbed Michelle's arms and lifted her to the seat. Christine held out her hand, an embroidered white handkerchief in her fingers. Raoul took it and passed it on to Michelle.
"Merci," she said quietly, dabbing her eyes. "I know what you must think of me. But before you can know what I've done, you must know what my life has been."
"Speak briefly," Erik commanded.
She nodded fearfully. "My mother was a maid to the Baronesse de Bourgogne. My mother was a decent woman, Monsieur, but the Baron… They soon began a love affair, meeting in secret whenever his wife was occupied. Her lady discovered their indiscretion when my mother became pregnant with me. She was thrown out on the streets. The Baronesse made certain that my mother would find no work as a maid. The Baron would not even acknowledge me."
"All this is terribly sad, Mademoiselle, but what is the relevance to our current situation?" Erik questioned apathetically.
Looking at Erik, Michelle was unable to speak. The rage that she sensed hidden behind that mask rendered her dumb. She looked once again at Raoul and continued. "We had no money, Monsieur. We lived in the most deplorable conditions for so long. Then one day, a few short years ago, I was approached to be a servant for the Duchess de Anjou."
"Nicole," Raoul uttered in horrible comprehension.
"Oui, Monsieur. She seemed very agreeable at first. I even had extra money to send to my mother. But the first time I upset her, I received such a lashing. I…I could barely move the next day. What could I do, Monsieur? I was forced to do everything she asked of me. And I'm afraid that is why I am responsible for the troubles that have befallen your family." Michelle's whole body was trembling as she cried into the handkerchief.
"What have you done?" Christine asked, her voice just above a whisper.
"You must understand how fixated she was on Master Raoul. She would spend hours in these terrible rants. She claimed that her aunt and uncle had approached Philippe about making her Master Raoul's bride," she stopped to wipe her eyes once again. "She swore they were arranging the engagement when it was discovered that the Comte was dead and his brother run away with the diva of the Opera Populaire. Morning after morning she would sit at the breakfast table, mulling over her new plan to win you back. 'The Duchess of Anjou does not lose a man to some no-status opera rat' she would say."
It was so quiet that it seemed no one was even breathing. Raoul moved back to Christine's side. She reached up and gripped the hands he lay reassuringly on her shoulders. Erik's body tensed as he watched them. Though they had not noticed, Michelle had. She feared that Erik would release his anger on them, so she quickly continued.
"She learned all that she could about your relationship, studied every report and article she could obtain. There was so much mystery that surrounded you. She was especially intrigued by the involvement of the Phantom." Her eyes shifted to Erik's face, then quickly back to the wall in front of her. "She couldn't tell what was fact or fiction, so she devised a way to discover the truth. She found someone who she believed could help her."
"Who?" Christine asked.
"I'm not sure who he was, some Persian man. She forced me to go to him, under the assumed identity of a servant for Monsieur de Chagny. I told him that the Vicomte desired to know more about the Phantom and his relationship with Madame Christine. He told me all that he had seen and all that he later learned from the Phantom." She looked uncertainly at Raoul and Christine. "And he said that, despite all that had occurred, he believed that Madame Christine still cared for her Angel."
Christine drew herself up in the bed. She breathed in deeply before she spoke, her voice restrained. "And what did the Duchess do with this newfound information?"
Michelle looked at her hesitantly. "First, she wanted me to become a servant here. She wanted to better understand what your marriage was like, any problems she might be able to exploit. Once I had accomplished this, she went to the Opera Populaire, to Monsieurs Andre and Firmin." She glanced fearfully at Erik. "She offered them 100,000 francs if they would accuse the Phantom of murder and aid the police in his capture."
"She was responsible for my incarceration?" Erik hissed.
She looked sadly at Raoul and Christine. "She had hoped that it would cause a rift in your marriage. She never expected Madame Christine to leave."
"No, I suppose she was just rather fortunate in that," Christine snapped angrily.
"I am so sorry. I never wanted any of this," Michelle said imploringly.
Raoul gave Christine's shoulders a comforting squeeze. "Where is she staying?"
"She…she is staying in a small brick townhouse beside la Cathédrale de Saint-Étienne," Michelle responded.
The next moment Raoul was angrily storming towards the door.
"Raoul, what are you doing?" Christine called, her voice shaking with worry. She knew how violently Raoul reacted whenever she was threatened.
He stopped, but didn't turn back as he answered her. "I am going to deal with her."
"Monsieur, this is not the charge of a gentleman," Erik said, stepping in front of him. As he turned on his heel, Raoul grabbed his arm roughly.
"You would detain me?" Erik asked sarcastically.
"Whatever punishment she deserves, it will not come from you," Raoul said firmly.
"You think yourself the only one worthy of dispensing justice? Do not forget that it was my life she sacrificed in her pursuit of you. And don't ever assume that you are the only man who should defend Christine," Erik replied threateningly. He pulled his arm from Raoul's tight grip.
As he stepped outside the manor, Erik could hear Christine calling wildly to him. "Erik! Please don't do this! Do not risk everything over her!" He closed his eyes and tried to shut out her voice. Everything felt heightened as he walked through the streets, breathing in the crisp night air. Finally, Erik came upon the home that Michelle had described. He smiled calmly, knowing that his vengeance waited inside.