Hello again, friendly readers, and please don't punjab me for being so slow in updating! I've got a lot on my plate right now and haven't been able to work on my writing as much as I'd like. I hope you'll find this offering worth the wait!

As always, I do not own Eric (or Erik, however you choose to spell it!) or any of the recognizable characters from Phantom of the Opera in any of its written form. I just make up the plot line and hope it comes out sounding good. I'm not making any money off of this, just doing it for the simple enjoyment of it!

That being said, on to the next installment!

Chapter 3: A Haunted Chateau? Suurrree…

Eric paused for a few moments before the series of small rounded one way mirrors, making sure the room's resident was truly asleep before reaching down and triggering the hidden switch. He smiled with satisfaction as the secret panel swung open silently on its well-oiled hinges, maintained by him for just such an occasion. He stepped silently into the room, the slight rustling of his heavy silk-lined cloak and a slightly cooler draft of air the only signs of his entry into the quiet room. He hesitated a moment to make sure the slight sounds hadn't woken the bed's occupant before stepping confidently forward tot he side of the bed. He grinned wryly as he spoke low enough for only himself to hear. 'Over 150 years old, and still slipping into ladies boudoirs in the dead of night……guess I haven't lost my touch!'

His eyes, already accustomed to the low light from his years in darkness, fell immediately upon the sleeping Juliette Phelps. The stray moonbeams that managed to peek through the edges of the room's heavy drapes provided more than enough light for his midnight reconnaissance. She lay on her right side, facing the elegant mirrored vanity, one hand tucked beneath the pillow and the other beneath her cheek. Her hair, no longer in its confining braid, was a dark mass against the whiteness of the bedding. So like Christines……

Shaking his head angrily at the direction in which his thoughts were straying, he reached into his cape and removed his calling card, a single red rose just beginning to bloom tied with a length of black satin ribbon. Leaning over, he left his token on her bedside table where she would be sure to see it when she awoke. As if she felt the breeze of his movements, the sleeping woman shivered and reached for the covers, which had slipped down to reveal her plain sleeveless cotton nightgown. She pulled them up over herself with a satisfied sigh, curling back up as she prepared to slip back into deeper sleep…….and then she sneezed…..and sneezed again.

"What the hell!" Juliette came up out of her much needed slumber with a snarl as she coughed and sneezed, her throat getting tighter and tighter as her unusual allergy struck with a vengeance. Sitting up, she rubbed her red and watering eyes as she fumbled for the bedside lamp to search for the source of her discomfort, not noticing the wall panel closing silently across the room.

Spying the fragrant culprit on the table beside the bed, Juliette sneezed repeatedly and cursed as she slipped from the comfortable bed. Grasping the mysterious token by the stem, she held it out in front of her as if it was a dead rat, wiping her streaming eyes with her other hand as she ran to the bedroom door, opened it and threw the flower down as hard as she could before closing the door with a slight slam. Stumbling to the bathroom, she retrieved her case and pulled out the small bottle of medication she carried for emergency situations, struggling to get even the tiny purple pill down her tight throat with the help of the chateau's heavy mineral-tasting water. She bent over, using the sink to hold her up as she focused on her breathing, in through her nose and out through her mouth as she waited for the attack to pass. After a few minutes, she felt the tightness easing and stood up, washing any remaining residue from her hands before wetting a washrag to sooth her flaming eyes. Wiping her face down, she caught sight of herself in the mirror and groaned. "If I was to step out of the room right now, they'd think I was a ghost. There's an original Halloween costume for ya…the Hag with Jet Lag, " A gentle knocking at her bedroom door drew her from the bathroom, which echoed with the soft chuckle from her unseen visitor.

Pulling on her robe, Juliette opened the door to find a similarly clad Mrs. Geery outside her door, a look of worry crossing her face as she took in her haggard appearance and watering eyes. "Is everything all right, Miss Phelps? I heard a noise and thought I'd better check to make sure you were alright."

"I'm fine now, Mrs. Geery, thank you for asking, but I would appreciate it if your staff could refrain from leaving presents for me in the middle of the night." Mrs. Geery followed her gaze to the slightly crumpled flower on the floor beside the door, and then turned her attention back to Juliette. "I am one of those lucky people who happens to have a severe allergic reaction to roses. Fortunately it was just one….the arrival of a whole bouquet would probably have killed me."

"Good Heavens, I was afraid something like this might happen…but not on your first night in the chateau! Tell me, did you see or hear anything at all unusual this evening, my dear?"

Juliette met the woman's gaze evenly before shaking her head at the odd question. "No, nothing out of the ordinary. To be honest, I was too tired to do anything but wash up and crash. I was sound asleep when this little surprise arrived. Why do you ask?"

Mrs. Geery hesitated for just a moment before answering. "I didn't want to mention this when you first arrived, for fear that you would think me a silly old woman, but I guess I may as well mention that this chateau is supposedly haunted. I for one don't believe in such nonsense, but several others who have been on the staff here longer than myself have many stories about run ins with the spirit they call the Phantom. He has a habit of pulling pranks and making his presence known in other ways to those in this household. He has also…made his displeasure known to those he wishes to leave."

"Well, at the moment I don't really care if whomever dropped in to pay me a midnight call is pleased or displeased by my presence. Having unwanted visitors, regardless if they are breathing or not, in my bedroom while I'm sleeping was definitely NOT in my contract!" Her scowl softened into a weary grin before she continued. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I think there's a pillow calling my name. Goodnight, Mrs. Geery." With that, she closed the door on the stunned housekeeper.

Eric had been rather annoyed and then alarmed by her unexpected reaction to his gift, and made a mental note to remind Mrs. Geery to ask about any other allergies that the restoration specialist might have. He stood listening with interest as the Chateau's housekeeper informed its newest resident about its supposed ghost and smiled at her spirited response. I've got a feeling that this is going to be a very entertaining holiday season indeed……