Hello again, and thank you for taking the time to read this fic. I apologize for the slowness in updating, but I am working on 3 projects at once and it takes a lot out of me…this is more of a background filling in chapter—more action to follow in subsequent chapters.

As always, I do not own any of the original characters from any version of Phantom of the Opera, although I have borrowed a few ( you may recognize some of them with different names). All I claim ownership to is the current plot line and the characters I make up in my head. I am not making any profit off of this, other than the satisfaction I get from entertaining others and my own personal enjoyment.

That being said, here's chapter 2…enjoy!

Chapter 2: A Strange Welcome

True to her prediction, Juliette was exhausted when she finally stepped off the plane at Charles de Gaulle airport in Paris some 5 hours later. She had managed to catch a short nap, but instead of being refreshed she felt even more tired than before she had slept. As she came up the connecting tunnel from the plane, her tired mind was more than a bit frazzled with the prospect of meeting her new employer while in a state of mental and physical exhaustion. She immediately spotted a man in a suit and hat holding a sign with the name J. Phelps on it, and she felt as if a great weight had been lifted from her tired shoulders. She smiled wearily and waved at the man, who appeared to be in his mid 40's, and he immediately came forward to relieve her of her carry on bag.

"Bonjour, Mam'selle, and welcome to France. I am Joseph, the Compte de Chagny's valet and driver. If you will permit me, I will go and collect your luggage while you go through customs. That will save us both time and hassle, no?"

Although she spoke excellent French, hearing him speak English was a welcome relief after the babble of various languages around her. There was nothing at all suggestive in the way he was looking at her, but for some reason his bright grin sent a small warning signal to her subconscious mind, and she decided on the spot that she would need to be on her guard around this man. As exhausted as she was at that point however, she would have been willing to accept help from Jack the Ripper.

"Sounds like a good plan to me, Joseph….now, point me towards Customs so I can get this over with, and heaven help the agent who gives me a hard time tonight." She would never forget the first and only other time she had traveled to France and the insulting attitude of the agent she had had to deal with. She grinned wryly at her companion as he gestured toward the long line at the gate of to her left and then sighed wearily. "Think our employer would post bail for me if I get arrested for assault?"

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What seemed like an eternity later, Juliette raised an eyebrow and couldn't resist letting out a low whistle of astonishment when Joseph ushered her toward the silver and black Classic Phantom V Rolls Royce at the curb. "My, My, My" was all Juliette could say as she stepped into the opulent car and sank back against the comfortable seat with a sigh.

Taking his position behind the wheel, Joseph caught her eye and smiled as he watched her run her hand over the butter soft upholstery with appreciation. "The Compte has a definite affinity for fine automobiles, the Phantom Rolls Royce in particular….he has 7 in his collection at the moment, although not all of them are in as good a condition as this one. He enjoys taking damaged things and restoring them to their former glory…his hobby, you might say."

"An expensive hobby, to be sure." Joseph looked back at her again and saw her staring sightlessly out the window into the rainy Paris night. She's a pretty little thing…he thought to himself…a man could lose himself in those blue eyes..' Her dark auburn hair was held back in a French braid, the end of which fell halfway down her back. She was petite, but the tan knee-length trench coat she wore couldn't disguise her woman's curves. Her head had fallen back against the seat, and he noted the deep circles under her eyes. 'Pretty, and with more than half a brain in her head…been a while since we've had one such as her under our roof.' Yes, indeed, it would be interesting to see how the other inhabitants of the chateau reacted to having this new blood in their midst.

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The crunch of gravel pulled Juliette from her light doze as the car pulled to a smooth stop in front of the Chateau. Joseph opened the door and she stepped out, shivering slightly from more than just the chill dampness of the fall evening. The rain, which had been falling lightly when they had left the airport, had become a full fledged torrent, and Juliette's hair was saturated even on the short dash from the car to the manse. The grand house was a dark mass that reminded her of the one too many horror movies she had watched as a child, and she had to repress a shriek as the great door creaked open as she climbed the steps. Her fears were dismissed a moment later when a smiling, dark-haired and very normal human woman appeared in the doorway.

"Come in, come in, Miss Phelps, you mustn't be kept waiting there in the rain! Don't dawdle, Joseph Puquet,." She said to the driver rather sharply. "Bring her luggage to the Rose Suite while I get the Miss warmed up. Dreadful weather, simply dreadful." She could only trail along as the woman bustled down the hallway and showed her into a cheerful parlor. She took Juliette's raincoat and hung it on a rack, clucking over the obvious exhaustion of the chateau's newest resident . Juliette didn't hesitate to take one of the two chairs, which were comfortably arranged in front of a crackling fire.

"Shall I ring for some tea, Miss Phelps? And perhaps a bite to eat? You do look rather peaked." Juliette looked up and accepted the fluffy towel that the taller woman handed to her with a tired smile.

"Tea would be lovely, and I wouldn't turn down a sandwich, if it's not too much trouble. What they serve on airlines nowadays can barely be classified as edible, even by third world standards." She grimaced, recalling the dry chicken breast, soggy vegetables and hard roll that had been her "dinner" a few hours earlier. She accepted the towel the woman handed her with a smile, and settled back in the chair with a sigh, enjoying the fire's warmth.

"I apologize if I sound cranky….I've been on the go since 1:30 this morning, so you're definitely not seeing me at my best. Thank you for your kindness, and please, call me Jules. Miss Phelps is the rich, snobby, self absorbed debutante I left behind a long time ago." It was very faint, but she could have sworn she heard a chuckle coming from the fireplace …I must be more tired than I thought……

"Happily, Jules, and where are my manners? I'm Mrs. Geery, formerly assistant housekeeper in charge of linens at Her Majesty's residence at Balmoral. I'm in charge of the Compte's households here in France, and will be keeping the Compte informed of your progress on this project."

"So the Compte is not in residence? I was under the impression he was a hands-on kind of fellow when it came to restoration projects."

Mrs. Geery smiled and shook her head. "No, he is currently away overseeing another opera house restoration…. In Venice, I believe. He travels quite frequently, and has several homes on the Continent, as well as in America and the Middle East." Having picked up the phone on a nearby table, she instructed the person on the other end to send tea and a plate of sandwiches into the parlor before turning her attention back to Juliette.

"The Compte spends most of his time overseeing his various enterprises and doesn't have a regular permanent residence per se….I guess that is one of the quirks of being ultra rich…no necessity to settle in one place." She noticed the momentary pensive, almost sorrowful look that crossed Juliette's face but was prevented from making any further inquiries by the arrival of a maid bearing a tray with the requested edibles. After taking the tray and placing it on a small table in front of the tired young woman, she continued.

"By the way, we received your supply list, and have placed them in the 2nd floor sunroom, which has been made available for your workspace. Whatever else we might have overlooked will be made available to you, so don't hesitate to ask for anything that has not been provided. The Compte was adamant that you be extended every courtesy and that you were to be made to feel at home while you're here."

Juliette nodded wearily, setting her half eaten sandwich down and wiping her mouth on a linen napkin before she replied. "In a way, it is a relief knowing that he won't be hovering over my shoulder. Restoration is delicate work, and progress is measured in inches, not yards. I've had to explain that too many times to impatient patrons, although I doubt that that would be a problem with the Compte. After all, he was willing to bring me halfway around the world to restore these paintings, so he seems to know what he's about." She dropped two lumps of sugar into her tea and stirred it before picking it up with both hands, letting the brew's warmth be absorbed into her cold hands.

"Indeed he does, Jules, and he knows talent when he sees it. Part of my job is to do thorough screening of potential employees for his projects, and he hires only the best. He was impressed when he read about the work your gallery did on those Nicholas Hilliard portrait miniatures last year, and was most insistent that Vinton gallery be given this opportunity."

Juliette smiled as she sipped her tea. "My boss was ecstatic when we were contacted about this undertaking. I've heard tell that the Compte is quite a perfectionist though---I only hope that my work will live up to his exacting standards."

Mrs. Geery laughed. "You seem like a capable young woman who knows what you're doing….I'm sure you'll do an excellent job."

"Thank you, Mrs. Geery. I've seen the photos of some of the works I'll be restoring, and hopefully most of them are salvageable. I am looking forward to getting started right away. However…" At this point, Juliette was unable to stifle a yawn. "my body has other plans at the moment. Pardon my language, but Jet lag is a bitch."

Nodding in understanding, Mrs. Geery took the cup from Juliette's hand to set it back on the tray, then guided the drowsy woman up three flights of stairs to a large, comfortable bedroom done in rose and cream. After Mrs. Geery bid her goodnight, Juliette kicked off her damp shoes and looked around the room. Her suitcases had been stacked in the open closet, where she could see her clothes hanging neatly. After searching through a chest of drawers, she finally located a nightgown and stepped into the adjoining bathroom. Moving sluggishly, she finished her bedtime preparation and climbed into the big four poster bed, where she finally let sleep claim her.

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"I knew you had hired a woman, but you failed to mention she was pretty, Mrs. Geery." The voice clucked, but in amusement rather than disapproval.

She gave an exasperated sigh. "How could I mention it if I didn't know it myself, Eric? You didn't list any specific qualifications to avoid, you know…you wanted a person with no dependants capable of doing the work, and she was the most qualified person her gallery had available."

The voice laughed softly, then continued warm and soft as velvet. "You misunderstand me, Madam, I'm not complaining about your choice—you did very well indeed. In fact, even though I've only been in her presence a few minutes, I find her somewhat… intriguing. After all, it's been a long time since I actually had the opportunity to haunt someone so young and attractive in this house." The ghostly chuckle that echoed in the hall gave Mrs. Geery goose bumps. "Speaking of hauntings, I have decided that the Compte will be giving a masquerade ball on Halloween. See to the arrangements, won't you? You'll find the guest list on top of the desk in the library. Now, if you'll excuse me, I think I'll pay a visit to the Compte's newest employee. Goodnight, Madam."