I do not even begin to claim that I know the history of the French Opera House in New Orleans, but I have done a tiny bit of research to know that this fits in with my story's timeframe rather well. The characters are my creation and therefore do not represent the real people involved in New Orleans opera scene during the 1870's.
Thanks to Pertie, Mlle.Fox, OperaLover, and Child of the Siene for my reviews. I am hoping you will enjoy this as much as you did "A Place in This World". This should prove to be an interesting journey.
Disclaimer: I do not own Erik (I wish), Christine, Raoul, Meg or Madam Giry; the rest of them are my creation.
GOOD INTENTIONS ARE NOT ENOUGH. We must make sure we have communicated them clearly and that they are understood.
From God's Best for Your Success
I Surrender All
CHAPTER 4
Three months ago, New Orleans, Louisiana
"I will not tolerate this any longer…I quit!" The words were spat at everyone in the theater when Anton Bourbon stormed off in a rage.
The manager of the French Opera House, Roland Temple, and the orchestra director, William Garner, cast agitated looks at each other. Anton was a gifted and talented voice instructor, but he was self-centered, egotistical, and conceited.
Many times over the past two years he had cost them valuable rehearsal hours because of his demanding personality, and his unscrupulous ways with the women were front page news; this was not the kind of reputation Roland had been interested in creating when he purchased the French Opera House sixteen months ago.
William glanced at him and cleared his throat, "Should we go after him…or…"
Roland covered his face with his hands and just shook his head. What was he going to do? The winter season was coming and rehearsals would be starting in four months; now, he had to replace Anton…and quickly.
He could not very well go up to Mr. Drystle and tell him that they no longer had the means possible to complete the production on time. Peyton Drystle was not a patient man; he would withdraw his funding and it would all be over.
For several years now, the French Opera House had been the one place that young ladies could come and get quality voice training and dance instruction. The owners, financiers, and managers had all worked together to boost the reputation of the performers in the eyes of the public. They all wanted to be known as serious performers, not promiscuous people.
Women still had no place in the universities, but many were coming forward with the desire to get a major education; one to rival any male counterpart. These women needed a place of their own and Roland's predecessor, Thierry Bordeax, had been a very progressive thinking man. He had been blessed with a daughter, Karlie, and he made sure she was educated as well as any man.
Karlie had been his pride and joy; a brilliant student with exceptional intelligence and graceful, fluid movements. He had sent her and his lovely wife, Stella, to Europe when Karlie was three to learn from the best instructor he knew, Madam Audrey Giry.
Audrey Bassétt had married Thierry's university roommate, Henri Giry, after he had met her during a production at the Opera Populaire. She had been the Prima Ballerina that night, and they were instantly a couple. The courtship had not lasted long, and the marriage was over too soon after the premature death of Henri from an unknown ailment.
His death had left Audrey with an infant daughter, but she was an established ballet instructor and soon was able to provide for her and her infant daughter. She had stayed in contact with Thierry up until his sudden death 18 months ago.
Roland was at a loss for words. What was he going to do? It had taken months to find Mr. Bourbon and now, they were right back at square one. He took an add out in the paper and solicited around the other large cities, but after six weeks, he was convinced there was not one qualified vocal instructor in Louisiana. It did not take him long to deduce that Anton had blackballed the French Opera House and no one would work for him.
When the time came, Roland admitted defeat to Peyton Drystle.
Peyton Drystle was a memorable looking man, tall with distinguished good looks, late fifties. He had silver hair and intense hazel eyes. He regarded Roland with concerned interest, as the situation was made known to him.
"I'm sorry for the trouble you're having Roland, but I must think of my own investments. I must withdraw my funding." Peyton was genuinely disturbed by these turn of events, he knew there was great potential with the Opera House. "It is just business; I do hope you find a way to make this work."
"It has just been so difficult since the war, Peyton. People have not been interested in the arts until recently; there has been too much going on." Roland had seen a recent increase in public attendance and interest in the arts, but the War of the States had taken its toll.
Roland left that meeting feeling like the whole world had turned against him. It was time to take drastic measures and go to Europe. He would find Madam Giry and ask for her assistance in locating a voice instructor and possible financier.
He made his apologies to his staff and performers, letting them know that he was going to put every effort forth to be up and running in six months; until then, he encouraged them to seek employment elsewhere.
He caught the ship to Europe the next day.
OOOOOOOOOOOOOO
Audrey's house, present day, Erik's bedroom
Erik had not anticipated the events of the evening turning out as they had. He had actually thought to be dead or in jail at this point; now, he had Raoul to thank for being a free man and having a cleared name.
Seeing Christine only hours after giving her into the arms of another man had made Erik's heart ache more than he thought possible. He had bared his heart and emotions to her and she had spit them back at him. His pride would not let her destroy him, but he also knew that he could not go on like this; acting as if he had never been in love with her.
He supposed he ought to be thankful that she wanted to be his friend; after all, beggars can't be choosers. But Erik knew that seeing her everyday or even once a week would be too much for him. He had tried his luck at love and had lost…game over.
Erik laid on the bed thinking about his next move. What was he going to do? He could safely say what he was NOT going to do…he was not going to love again…the price was just too high. No one wanted to be in love half way; and with him, it was always going to be half way…his half and no one elses.
OOOOOOOOOOOO
Christine watched Erik walk away, feeling the heaviness his sadness left in her. He was so deserving of love, and she was determined to help him find it. He had never been around women and they had never been around him. It would be interesting to see just how easily he caught their attention.
"He's very attractive, isn't he?" Meg admitted.
Meg had never actually seen Erik until tonight and the shock of it was still sinking in. Bouquet had made him out to be a hideous creature that barely looked alive…Erik was the most "alive" man Meg had ever seen and he was potently attractive.
"But I can see what you mean. When I am near him, I can sense the darkness lurking just beneath the surface of his gentility," Meg breathed.
Meg was in awe of Erik, the man encompassed every personality trait that the Phantom was known to have; the temper, the obsessive behavior, jealousy, intolerance, genius, brilliance, the mask, and the "voice". But now, she knew that all of these were encased in a very attractive man.
Christine smiled at Meg. It was obvious that Erik's vast charm had not escaped Meg's notice. Meg wasn't much of a flirt until she found a man that truly sparked her interest, then she went into "flirt" mode.
"He is a very attractive man and he has no idea of this, nor would he believe you if you told him." Christine wasn't convinced that Erik would ever realize just how beautiful he was.
Meg furrowed her petite brow, "I made my interest known to him with a few well orchestrated flirtations, but he seemed completely oblivious to them. He simply said, 'If I was any other man, I would think you were flirting with me.'…what does he mean by that?"
Christine graced Meg with a gentle, hesitant smile, "I'm not sure I should be sharing this with you, Meg…he is as innocent as you and I."
Meg just stood there, completely shocked.
"I don't know the complete story of his horrible childhood, nor do I know the extent of the torture he suffered at the hands of the gypsies; but I do know that he was told repeatedly that he was no more than an animal." Christine looked into the earnest eyes of Meg.
"I pray that he will find love like he never dreamed existed…he deserves nothing less." Christine sniffed back the tears as they threatened. "From what your mother tells me, he was told he was not worthy of human love or compassion…he has never known the romantic touch of a woman."
Meg smiled mischievously and nudged Christine, "I am certain that being in the public eye, as he is right now, he will not escape with his innocence for much longer."
"Meg!" Christine gasped with a huge grin on her face, "You should not say such things!"
Meg just giggled and stared at Christine with impish eyes as she responded, "Well, someone should, the man is a major work of art!" Meg was intrigued as well as impressed. Erik could have appeased his manly desires with any number of prostitutes or willing ballet rats…he never did.
With that last statement, Meg winked at Christine and left to head upstairs to bed.
Christine was staying downstairs in the guest room, next to Audrey's room. She hoped that Raoul had had no problem finding a hotel room for the night; after all, it was very late.
OOOOOOOOOOOO
Meg approached the door of Erik's room with trepidation. She felt she owed him an apology; but she was not sure why.
She knocked lightly on the door, awaiting an answer. Erik answered a few seconds later. He had been reclining in bed reading a book and did not have a shirt on.
"Little Giry…is there something you needed?" Erik asked, not indicating any emotion.
Meg's mouth went completely dry at the sight of Erik's muscular, toned chest. It had just the right amount of hair spread across it. Erik noticed her line of sight and immediately became self-conscience of his body.
"Excuse my state of undress, I was not expecting company." Erik bowed his eyes to the floor as he spoke, hoping she did not see his remorse. He moved aside to allow her into his room.
"Erik, please just call me Meg…" She insisted as she ambled up to him. "…and you have nothing to apologize for…you have a magnificent chest."
Erik quirked his perfect brow at her obvious interest in his chest and watched as an unknown look passed across her pert features.
Erik gave her a suspicious look, careful not to pay a great deal of attention to how well her young, lithe, dancer's body filled the outfit she wore. When it all boiled down, he was a hot-blooded man who reacted to an attractive woman the same way every other man did. He had diligently tried to ignore Audrey's daughter as the years had past…she was forbidden ground.
He knew that Audrey would never approve of his monster hands touching her daughter in any way…so he left her alone. This did not change the fact that he found her attractive.
"You should not be in here Meg…is there something you needed?" Erik tried to keep the uncertainty out of his voice, "I was getting ready for bed."
He turned from her to face the bed and Meg admired the back of him with as much admiration as she did the front. His back was laden with ragged scars, but they did not hinder the muscles that rippled over his broad shoulders and tapered waist. Meg knew her jaw was hanging open; she could not help it. The man had a marvelous body.
Almost without her being aware of it, Meg moved to where he stood and pressed a feathery touch to the scars on his shoulder blades. Erik stiffened at the contact, and wrenched his body away from her exploring hand.
His eyes were dark and elusive as he spoke though clenched teeth, "I beg or your pardon, Meg. I forgot my state of undress…forgive me please, if I have offended you."
There was physical evidence that made it known how much her closeness affected him. Meg was aware of Erik's interest also, and found that knowledge oddly reassuring. He moved away from her as if she were robbing him of his oxygen.
If Erik had been the animal that Bouquet had made him out to be, he would have acted on his arousal…but he did not, and instead, averted his eyes from her as she scrutinized his reactions.
Meg was certain she had seen tears in his beautiful eyes, but he had gotten adept at hiding them, "You did not offend me Erik, I'm sorry if I startled you." Meg noted the rejected look she saw spring up in Erik's eyes. "How did you get those scars?"
Erik did not feel obligated to tell her, but he knew she meant well, "When I was a child, my father would beat me with a rope and then the actions were repeated when I was a captive in the gypsy camp."
Erik saw what he knew to be pity jump into Meg's eyes. He hated it when people pitied him. Meg fought back the tears, but several escaped and rolled down her soft cheeks, "I am sorry Erik…sorry for how the world has treated you…but even more sorry for all of the hateful, ugly things that the ballet and chorus girls said about you…me included."
Meg hung her head and allowed the tears to flow without hindrance. She had never even considered the fact that Bouquet had no idea what he was talking about, or that this "Phantom" even existed; to find that he did exist and was very much human made Meg's heart ache for him. He had heard everything that was said about him.
Erik straightened his shoulders and put a mask of mock confidence on, "It was a long time ago, I am over it." Which was a lie; every night, Erik's nightmares prevented him from a decent nights sleep.
Erik walked over to the door of his room and opened it; it was time for Meg to go before he began to like her being there.
"Good night, Meg." Erik stated without turning to her. Meg knew he was hurting…she just prayed that the women who would take that hurt away would come into his life soon. She found herself wishing it could be her.
As she passed by him, she reached up and placed a chaste kiss on his cheek, "Good night, Erik…you really are a very handsome man." She stayed just long enough to see his eyebrow go up.
OOOOOOOOOO
Erik wondered what game Meg was playing. He knew there was no way that she found him the least bit desirable. It did not really matter; before long, he would in a new place hiding from humanity all over again.
To Be Continued…