Chelsey here; oh my goodness, we are so sorry, dear readers, for the apalling lack of attention in our stories of late. But no, we haven't forgotten or died or anything like that, and we promise it won't happen again. Please forgive us. :)

For those of you who are "Regret" fans, that has been updated as well.

Without further ado: the chap (finally!).

Chapter Three

Christine had just returned from yet another day of looking for work, but failing. No one wanted a skinny, young widow with two small children and no job experience to work for them... and it was crushing her already broken spirit. She unbundled Henri and Claire (who had she been forced to take with her while looking for a job; she had no money for hiring someone to look after them).

Walking over to the tiny kitchen to prepare lunch for her children, only to find her cupboards almost bare. This was really happening. Gathering her composure once more, she pulled out a dwindling loaf of bread and what little they had left of their dinner last night and put together a small lunch... There was only enough for Henri, but that was alright... Christine would figure out something... she hoped. She set Henri down at the table and set the food in front of him, then sat down across from him, cradling Claire to her as she unbuttoned her dress, and began to feed her. She herself had not eaten a full meal all week, but she didn't know what else she could do... her children were more important than herself.

What would they do? She had no where to turn to. But then Erik's face came to her mind and she remembered what he had said to her the day of her late husband's funeral... Maybe she would need him after all.

Erik was dwelling in the library, searching listlessly for a book to occupy himself with, when a knock came upon the door. "I shall answer," he shouted to whomever may try to greet the callers, as he fled the library and walked to the front door. He composed himself before pulling it open. As he had expected, Christine stood before him. "Christine," he said smoothly, pleasantly, "How nice to see you here. I am glad you have found my home."

Christine looked up at him, and nodded, "Hello, Erik," she said, smoothing her ill-fitting dress over her dwindling body.

"Do come in," he said, opening the door wider still. "What brings you here?" Although he had some idea, he was unsure of if she would be staying, or if she just wanted money. He secretly hoped it was the prior.

She stepped inside, out of the bitter January air, and cleared her throat, "I need your help."

"What sort of help do you require?"

"I... I've run out of money... I can't find any work..." she trailed off, a little embarrassed that she had let it come to this, she continued, her voice quieter, "I can't feed my children..."

"Do not bother being modest. What is it precisely that you need? Money, shelter, both?" They stepped further into the foyer, he gazing into her eyes, standing directly in front of her. She tucked a curl behind her ear, unable to meet his eyes.

"The home which we are staying at right now is not suitable for young children and no I do not have any money either..."'

"So, do you desire money for a home of your own? Or, you could simply lodge here with me, in this house," he added nonchalantly.

"You don't need to give me money for a home... but I don't want to impose..."

"It would be fine," his voice uncharacteristically gentle. "The house is large; I've plenty of room... and servants, who cook and clean... You would not have to work," he assured her.

"How can I repay you?"

"No payment would be required," he said quietly. "As I mentioned earlier, I am still your angel of music... The only payment I need is the knowledge that you are safe... and happy." He gave her a small smile.

"Thank you," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. She felt as though she was intruding; shouldn't be putting him in this situation... But she couldn't refuse...

"I suppose I shall show you to your rooms... or room. I am unsure of which you would prefer," he said, heading toward the stairs.

"I should probably go get Henri and Claire out of the carriage first," she said, having partially forgotten that she had brought them along... When she was around him she seemed to lose all sense of everything around him, provoking feelings she still couldn't explain.

"Of course," he said, stopping at the foot of the stairs. "I shall wait," he said, as she exited the house.

Moments later, Christine entered the home once again, holding Henri's hand; cradling Claire with her other arm. "Henri, you remember Erik," she said, smiling down at the little boy, who nodded, becoming somewhat shy.

"Yes."

"Hello, Henri," said Erik. Looking back up at Christine, he asked, somewhat awkwardly, "Is anyone hungry?"

"I am," Henri said, a smile forming on his face. Christine felt horrible that she hadn't been able to feed him well the past couple of days; she herself was quite hungry as well.

He lead the way into the kitchen, nodding for the family to take a seat at the small table in the corner.

"What would you like?" He was actually quite happy to entertain, even if it was a three year old.

"A cheese sandwich! Make one for Mama too... She never eats," Henri said happily as his mother settled him down into a seat at the table then took one next to him, setting Claire down in her lap, and blushed slightly.

"I eat, Henri. Do not make up stories."

"One could not tell by the look of you," Erik replied quietly. He turned to the counter and began to make the meal himself, seeing as the servants had already retired for the night. "Do you want anything else on that sandwich, Christine, or will just cheese do?" he asked, smiling to himself.

"What else do you have?" she asked, not that she cared... She would eat whatever was put in front of her as of now.

"I've ham, turkey, chicken, salami... Much more, I assume, besides."

"Chicken, please..." He nodded, and produced two sandwiches, with generous middles. "To drink?" he asked as he set the plates down in front of each of them.

"Milk, please," Henri said, after taking a big bite of his sandwich.

"Don't talk with your mouth full, darling," Christine scolded, but smiled at him. She was so glad he was able to have enough to eat again.

Erik poured Henri a large glass of milk. "A fine choice. Milk is very nutritious," he said approvingly. Once everyone had settled and begun eating, he turned and wrote a brief note for Chanel, the morning cook. Please prepare 3 breakfasts each morning from now on, one a child's size; we have guests lodging with us- Master Devereaux. He placed the note on the counter and stood at the doorway, waiting for the two to finish their meals.

Once she and Henri had finished their dinners, Christine helped Henri down from the chair. "I think it's about your bedtime, little boy," she said, smiling down at him.

"Not yet! I'm not sleepy!" Christine just continued to smile at him.

"Oh, I think you are... It's been a long day."

"I shall show you to your bedrooms," he said, turning from the room, leaving the dishes on the table. As he walked up the stairs, the deChagnys in tow, he asked, "Will you be requiring one room, two, or three?"

"I want my own room... I'm a big boy," Henri piped in before his mother could answer. Erik laughed quietly.

"Are you in agreement with that, Christine?"

"I suppose you may have your own room if you would like," she said to Henri.

They reached the hall, and Erik nodded to three rooms. "Those two are the bedrooms, and that is the restroom, complete with a bath. Is there anything else you require?"

"No, I believe we're fine... Thank you so much, Erik, really. I cannot thank you enough."

"It is fine... I suppose you'll be needing to collect your belongings from your former home tomorrow... and I shall be needing to purchase a crib," he rambled. "Can Claire sleep in your bed with you, just for this night?" he asked, apologetic at being ill prepared.

"Yes, of course... That will be fine," she said, her eyes meeting with his, that strange feeling coming over her again.

He nodded. "Well, goodnight then... I shall see you all in the morning." He started down the hall to the master bedroom, wishing sorely that Christine would be joining him. "If you should need anything else, please do not hesitate to ask. I shall be awake for some time." With that, he retired to his room, closing the door.

Christine watched him go, then led Henri into his bedroom, which was adjoining to her own. She helped him up on the twin size bed and began to help him undress, setting Claire in the middle of the bed while she did so. "Mama?" Henri asked as she took off his shoes and socks.

"Yes, darling?"

"Why does Erik wear a mask?" Christine thought for a moment.

"He just has a booboo on that part of his face, and he doesn't want anyone to see it."

"Why not?"

"Because people can be very mean, if they aren't taught good manners and to be nice."

"Oh," Henri said, nodding; satisfied with her answer. Christine pulled down the covers and tucked him into bed; she scooped up Claire and bent over to kiss him goodnight. "I like him," Henri said with a yawn; she smiled, turning to go into her room.

"Goodnight, Henri," she said quietly as he shut his eyes; shutting the door behind her.

Christine was looking forward to a goodnight's sleep in a comfortable bed... Tonight she wouldn't have to worry about food or money or if her children had been fed enough... She could just fall asleep— something she had not done in a very long time. She set Claire (who had begun to fall asleep) in the middle of the bed, gently, and began to undress. Her black dress had become quite loose on her, as she had lost an unhealthy amount of weight due to stress, and lack of food; she knew it did not help matters that whatever nutrients she obtained went into her breast milk for feeding Claire— not that she was complaining. She knew that feeding her children and taking care of them was the most important thing in the world to her and that meeting their needs would always come before meeting her own. She knew she must look a fright, and had become skin and bones, but it would be alright now... She didn't have to worry anymore.

Christine neatly folded her dress and set it on the chair across the room, then unlaced her corset and set it on the chair as well. Only in her chemise, she gently picked up Claire and climbed into bed, draping the warm blankets loosely around her. She propped herself against the headboard, holding her baby girl to her chest, and decided to try and nurse her, so she would be less likely to cry during the night and wake Erik and Henri.

Erik settled into his bed with a book, given the early hour of the night, but found that he could not concentrate; his mind was on Christine, and her children. Just how much food had they been living on? Christine looked dreadfully thin, and it worried him. But he told himself not to dwell on it anymore, for she was with him now, and he would not let anything happen to her, or the children. He was becoming quiet fond of little Henri.

Eventually, he abandoned the book, undressed, and turned out the light, knowing that sleep would not come for a long while.

If you can find it in your hearts to forgive and review, please do so :)