Chapter One
As Christine unpacked what little she had left of the life she had become accustomed to, memories she had been trying to keep out of her mind came floating back to her. She remembered their wedding day... she and Raoul's... and the births of their children. Henri James... now three, and little Claire Marie, who was only five months old. And then, of course she remembered when her husband had first became ill... tuberculosis... like her beloved father... Then she thought of the day of the funeral... Sunday, two days from now... How her little children... their children... would have to say goodbye to their father, and she would be left alone in the world... She had thought that the deChagnys would support them, but they had, quite abruptly, made it quite clear that she would no longer have access to the family funds... and once again, just as when her father had passed when she was at such a young age, she was alone.
Christine had had to move out from the estate, and find a new home. With the little amount of money she could make from her own things, she had purchased a home... It was small and located in one of the worse parts of Paris, the slums... But it would do... at least until she could find a job...
Sighing and blinking back her tears, Christine finished unpacking the trunk and rose from her spot on the floor, going to check on Henri and Claire, who were napping in their bedroom.
Erik laid in his bed after awakening as many diverse thoughts ran through his head. He had nowhere to go, and nothing to do, so he spent many early mornings simply lying idle in his room. He'd not been living in his new home long; it had taken time to gather his money, build and furnish the house, and hire the appropriate servants. He had a full staff of ten people, as the house was quite large. They would be expecting him to be awake soon.
He rose from the bed, pulled on a robe, and went downstairs to the spacious dining alcove, where a plate containing scrambled eggs, ham, toast, black coffee, with a newspaper next to it sat on the table. Although he was never interested in current events, the servants were always sure to place a paper with his breakfast.
He sat at the table, and looked over the paper, which was folded in half and had the back facing up. The obituaries greeted him as he began to eat. An excellent way to start my day, he thought with a smirk. As he took a bite of the heavily buttered toast, a name on the page stood out. Raoul deChagny. He abandoned the bread in favor of the paper.
This past week, the Vicomte Raoul deChagny has passed on, of tuberculosis, he read, leaving behind a wife and two small children. Memorial services will be held at St. Paul's Cathedral, Sunday from 9 to noon. An odd mix of emotions overcame Erik, and briefly he considered attending the service, but soon his thoughts turned to Christine. The boy had left her alone, which children nonetheless... He wondered if the deChagny family would continue to support her. He resumed his breakfast, accompanied by troubled thoughts of Christine.