Chapter 10

Eric had made himself almost invisible in darkness of the scaffolding hundreds of feet above the opera stage. He watched the premier performance of Samson et Dalila that was taking place beneath him for the first time at the Opera Populaire. The house was full, and Erik was pleased that two new managers had at least managed to sell-out opening night. The performance was about half way through the second act; however, and Erik was not scrutinizing every facet of each song as was his usual habit.

He found himself fixated on only one aspect of the production, its prima ballerina. Erik could not seem to allow his eyes to move from her as she glided across the stage. He tried to take in every movement of her dancing as though he may never see her again. Despite having seen Meg perform these same dances numerous times over the past weeks of rehearsal, Erik found that he was no less enthralled by her every action.

His only displeasure in watching Meg, were memories of the night before when she had confessed to him in a fit of anger that she was in fact, in love. It was at that moment that Erik could no longer deny his feelings for her. Instead of being enraged that she was screaming at him, he felt a pain in his stomach at the thought of her in the arms of another man. It was a feeling he was all too familiar with, and he couldn't bare the same agony for a second time. He was sure this time he would not live through it.

Erik's only consolation was the fact that Meg had admitted that the man she loved did not return her affection. This alone gave Erik a small glimmer of hope that perhaps, somehow she could still be part of his life. He realized that if things were going to end differently for him this time, he would have to work swiftly. Erik was convinced that it was only a matter of time before the man that had Meg's heart realized the error of his ways and reciprocated her feelings.

He would have to discover the identity of this man as soon as possible. Once he did, Erik decided that he would make certain not loose Meg to some impish young suitor the way he had lost Christine. Perhaps he would have to employ the torture chamber that had been sitting useless and idle in his lair for the past several years.

This time I will not allow cowardly compassion to cloud my judgment, he thought. This time I will do whatever I must to acquire what I want…and need.

Erik realized that his biggest challenge would be earning Meg's trust back. The thought of the way he had treated her at the Masquerade kept filling his mind. He had threatened her life, and that was not something to be reconciled quickly.

You must learn to control your temper, he told himself.

Erik tried to convince himself that Meg was not terrified of him as other people generally were. She had allowed him to touch her without retreating in fear or disgust. She had danced with him in way that no other woman ever would have endured. She looked into his eyes without trying to catch a glimpse of the horror beneath his mask. She also had the courage to scream at him, which no one else had ever done… and lived. For the first time in his life at the Masquerade Meg had made him feel like he was simply a man.

Erik began to believe that she could finally end his suffering and bring some happiness to his dismal existence.

Even if she does not love me, or even care for me, perhaps she can learn to tolerate me. She had said herself that she was doomed to a life of loneliness just like me, he resolved as the final curtain fell.

Meg stood in her dressing room after the opening night's performance. She was exhausted and it felt wonderful to put on her robe and just sit on her bed. It had felt like a dream to be back on stage in front of the huge audience. The stage lights had warmed her soul and the applause had driven her to push herself even closer to the perfection that her mother had demanded.

Everyone seemed thrilled with her performance. The managers and her fellow cast mates had congratulated her profusely. At least six different gentlemen had come to call on her after the show, and her room was once again filled with bouquets of red and pink flowers. Meg had refused to meet all of the men who wished to see her; her excuse was a terrible headache.

Despite their handsome faces and large fortunes, Meg could not bring herself to find interest in any of these young suitors. There were several times during the performance that she found herself squinting into the rafters high above the audience for a glimpse at a dark figure or the flash of a white mask. She had seen neither.

Why do you care you silly girl? He threatened to kill you, she told herself. You must be out of your mind.

But Meg remembered how she and Erik had danced before they had both lost their tempers. She remembered how it felt to be in his arms, and to look deep into his eyes. She had felt like he could see straight into her soul. He had ignited a fire in her that she had yet to put out.

While Meg sat on her bed feeling very alone, she had no idea that the man who occupied her thoughts was only feet away behind her massive, antique silver mirror. Erik watched Meg as she looked around her room in silence. He could tell that she was deep in thought, and he longed to know the secrets of her mind.

"Mademoiselle…Mademoiselle," a loud voice said while rapping on the door to Meg's dressing room. The noise startled Meg as well as Erik.

"Mademoiselle, it is Monsieur Francois and Monsieur Jacques! We must see you immediately, it is most urgent," they shouted from outside the door.

"I'm not properly dressed," Meg replied through the door, "couldn't this wait until the morning?"

"Well get properly dressed as quickly as possible. This absolutely can not wait!"

Meg started to feel apprehensive about what her managers could possibly be so urgent about. She quickly walked across the room and put on a long blue skirt and cream blouse. She pinned her hair up in a simple bun as fast as she could. She would have to hope that whatever was going on did not require a corset.

Erik stood in the stairwell behind the mirror also wondering what the idiot managers wanted with Meg. To his dismay she had walked adjacent to the mirror and out of his line of sight to change out of her robe.

Meg opened her door only a crack, but as she did Francois and Jacques came barging into her room.

"There is a very special some one here to see you," said Francois in a quiet voice. "A very special gentleman that is," he added with a childlike grin.

"I do not wish to see anyone. I have a terrible headache, and…"

Before Meg could finish her sentence, she found herself face to face with an unknown gentleman who was dressed impeccably in a grey suit and wearing a satin black top hat. He had a well-manicured mustache and a very handsome face.

"Miss Marguerite Giry, we would like to present the Marquis de Condorcet," said Jacques in a very grand manner.

Meg had heard of the Marquis several times in passing when she had been out in town. She knew he was a very well-respected man and that he owned an unheard of amount of land outside of Paris. His immense wealth was often the subject on the tongues of gossiping women.

"It is a pleasure to meet you Marquis, your honorable reputation precedes you," Meg said as she curtseyed bashfully.

"It is your reputation that seems to be the talk of Paris, Miss Giry. However, the rumors of your stunning beauty are all clearly the truth," the Marquis said in an overly polished and sophisticated tone.

How incredibly genuine, Erik thought to himself, as he became more incensed. This man looks much too old to call on Meg. Although in the back of his mind, he knew the Marquis was probably only a few years his senior.

"Forgive me for intruding on you this evening Mademoiselle, but I simply could not relinquish the opportunity to meet you. I was absolutely enchanted by your performance. You are an extremely gifted young lady."

"Thank you Monsieur, but you are really much too generous in your flattery," Meg responded slightly blushing.

"I assure you, my dear, I do not give compliments freely. You are truly a unique talent," he replied confidently.

"I will not impose on you any further tonight, and again forgive me for disturbing you. I do, however, look forward to coming to see many more of your performances. I have a feeling I will become quite a regular to the Opera Populaire. I hope that you will again grant me the honor of your presence, Meg Giry," he said graciously bowing.

Perhaps, I will grant you the honor of slow and painful death in my torture chamber, Marquis, Erik thought.

"Of course, Monsieur," Meg answered. She could not help but be a little intimidated by the visit from the Marquis.

As he walked away with Monsieur Jacques, Francois grabbed her face in his hands, kissed her on the cheek, and said, "I knew you would be our star, I just knew it, but the Marquis…. Oh you wonderful little ballerina!"

As Erik watched the scene with the Marquis and Meg unfold before him, he began to feel a combination of jealously and rage building inside him. He realized that his situation now would have an added obstacle.

"I hope for your sake, Marquis De Condorcet, that you do over step your bounds," Erik whispered to himself.

He continued to watch Meg after her obnoxious guests had taken their leave. He could not help but notice how tiny and delicate she was. His chest ached with an acute pain when he thought of how he had gripped his hand around her slender neck. He watched her until she climbed into bed, and blew out her last candle. Erik found the union of woman and child that Meg possessed to be both endearing and captivating.

I must make her see that I am more than just a grotesque and violent monster, he thought. I must make her understand that I need her.