You have made my heart sing with your reviews! Thank you so much for your vast and quick responses!

OperaLover – Here is a breakdown of the ages for you. Jean Luc was born on January 25, 1877 (Chapter 7). If you remember correctly, Christine was married to Raoul for almost four years before they got divorced on May 27, 1876 (Chapter 4). and she was pregnant only one month when the divorce took place. Grace Hannah was born on July 23, 1872 (Chapter 10). There is about 4 ½ years between the two.

Erik is now 32 and Christine is 25.

I hope this clears things up for everyone who may have been confused.

Since you have been so good to me, I will be good to you. I love each and every one of you.

God bless.

THE DAWN THROUGH THE NIGHT

Book III – Getting to Know You, Chapters 11-17

CHAPTER 12

Erik sat in his study, going over the designs of his latest masterpiece. Mr. Charles Wallace sat across from him, wanting to know the next step to take in the building efforts.

"I think this is going to be the most talked about structure in Paris, Mr. Destler." Charles praised. "I have never worked with or for a man who had as much vision and brilliance as you do."

Erik was not used to having his work or his mind praised, so the only acknowledgment of Mr. Wallace's compliment was a nod of his head.

"So, you have begun to see the method to my madness…I am pleased." Erik finally stated, with a broad smile on his handsome face.

Mr. Wallace returned the smile with equal enthusiasm, "Yes sir, it will be better than the original design by far."

Erik heard a soft knock on his door, "Enter." He stated firmly.

Grace opened the door and ran to his side. She ran and crawled up into this lap, making him chuckle at her soft kisses. He held her in his lap and showed her his designs, knowing that his ability to draw fascinated her; it was a talent she did not possess.

"Grace, I would like you to meet Mr. Charles Wallace; Charles, my daughter, Grace." Erik said, proudly.

Grace leaned into her father, but smiled broadly, "Nice to meet you, Mr. Wallace."

"Likewise, Grace." Charles stated, grinning at the small child.

Charles looked at Erik, "I really do wish you would accept my invitation to dinner this weekend…" he stated, "my sister is anxious to meet you…she's beautiful, I assure you." Charles stated, hoping Erik would decide to come.

Erik nodded, producing a strained smile, "No thank you, Charles…I appreciate your invitation, but I try not to get too close to the fairer sex, they find me repulsive." He spoke so deprecatingly, that Charles almost missed the self-pointed insult.

Erik looked down at Grace, "What can I get for you Mon Chéri…I was in a meeting." He stated; no animosity in his voice, just an inquiring tone.

"Papa, there is a beautiful woman here to apply for the governess position…I love her." Grace announced, knowing that her father would want her to be happy.

"Do you now." Erik said with a masculine laugh.

Grace nodded her head, making her curls bounce briskly. "She has a delightful little boy named Jean Luc, with brown curly hair and big brown eyes…I love him too." She added, winding him further around her little finger.

This was sounding too good to be true to Erik. She sounded perfect. "Show her to the library, I will be finished in about ten minutes, I will come out." He promised.

Grace clapped her little hands and ran to the door. She pulled it open and disappeared. Erik laughed at her antics and looked at Charles.

"Let's wrap this up." He ordered, with a smile on his face.

OOOOOOOOOOOO

Christine and Jean Luc sat in the library, just outside of the study. Jean Luc and Grace were occupying themselves with building blocks and Christine and Nancy watched as they played.

The door opened and a man exited, nodding briefly at Christine as he did so. He put on his hat and left the room, headed for the foyer. He was distinguished looking and probably filthy rich.

Christine looked up as a tall, graceful figure emerged from around the open door. Her eyes immediately took in his muscular, lithe form; noting the elegance in his familiar movements…

She moved her eyes up to his face…his left profile was all she could see, but there was something familiar about his movements. His black hair was loose and hung over the majority of his features, but she could see an aristocratic nose and sculptured cheekbone.

Then he turned to face her. Her eyes immediately went to the emerald green eyes staring at her. They were strong and confident in their intensity…she had seen those eyes before. The white mask was the last identifying mark that she needed.

It couldn't be…after all these years of searching and coming up empty. But it was. Erik stood before her in all of his glorious elegance. She felt the power exuding from him, and the familiar tug in her heart; after seven years, he still had possession of her soul.

She had never gotten a good look at him at the opera house. The lighting had been awful everywhere she had been around him. His lair – darkness and shadows shielded his true features; the graveyard – the snow was coming down so hard that she had not been able to focus on his features; and the stage – bright lighting and more shadows.

This man, standing before her…was breathtaking. She knew what rested beneath that cold, porcelain mask – and still, he was awe-inspiring. She stood before him, unable to move, stunned by the man before her.

He wore his hair loose and long; at the opera house, it had been perfectly pulled back and kept away from his face. She noticed the way it framed his face and made him less strict and staunch; but those eyes…would never leave her mind.

Erik turned the corner of the door and noticed his daughter playing with the curly haired boy; he was a cute thing…his eyes and facial features reminded him of…he swept his eyes up…

…Christine.

Erik jerked his eyes away from her as if she had stung him with her presence. His mind was reeling; how could this have happened?…after all these years, the one woman he had ventured to give his heart to, stood before him with the most astonished look on her face.

Erik was careful not to look at Christine; instead, he chose to watch as Grace came toward him and took his hand in hers. "Papa? Is everything alright?" she asked.

He squatted down beside her and pulled her to him for a hug, "Leave us, Grace." He said in soft, soothing tones. Christine closed her eyes at the pull of his voice, which was the same tone he had used with her all those years ago.

He turned and saw Nancy heading for the door, "Nancy, would you please take Grace and Jean Luc to the kitchen and have Nicolas make them something special to eat."

He watched as the light of his life silently left the room, giving him a backward smile as she reached for Nancy's hand. The door closed behind them and Erik didn't move.

Christine could not take her eyes off him. He was even more impressive than she had remembered. He had always been tall; but now, his girth had filled out and his muscles were defined through the fine material of his shirt. He had a light brown hue to his skin tone, where he had always seemed deathly pale.

She remembered the few times she had been around him when he wasn't in full evening wear, they had been rare, but she had caught glimpses of his toned body and the dark hair that covered it in all the right places. Christine knew she was staring, but could not find anything to say. Her mouth was open and her eyes were as big as saucers.

Erik had returned to his previous stance, his back to her; hiding the agony on his face. His voice was low and steady when he spoke; belying the emotional circus going on inside his body.

"What is the meaning of this?" He asked, trying to sound unperturbed, but his words were dripping with malice. "Did you not humiliate me enough seven years ago that you had to come back and finish me off?" He spat, the bitterness creeping back into his voice.

He moved forward and picked up the papers and her handbag from the floor. Christine hadn't even known she had dropped them. She recovered slightly and found her voice.

"We thought you were dead." Christine finally managed to say. "Where have you been, Erik?"

Erik's head rose at the sound of his name on her lips. Had he given her his name? He couldn't remember. He slowly turned toward her, so that his eyes looked into hers. He immediately regretted it, and looked away; the shock in her eyes was too much for him to bear.

Even after all these years, the sight of her still affected him. He and known seven years ago that he would never love another woman; not as he loved her. He had loved Desiree with a quiet, gentle love, the love of a dear friend; but Christine…she made his blood boil.

Bitterness gripped his heart and he knew she was here to play Russian roulette with his heart. He would not fall prey to the powerful sway she held over him.

"Leave…leave now." He demanded, sounding very much like the brooding Phantom. His piercing eyes bore into her with an intensity that left her slightly uneasy.

"I'll do no such of a thing." Christine replied, standing her ground. He was still gallingly arrogant.

Erik's eyes jerked up to hers, not believing that the timid, innocent Christine he had known had just stood up to him without flinching.

"Then I will leave." He turned and glided out of the room, down the hall, and toward the kitchen.

Christine felt the anger coming from him. She used the strength of her voice to stop him, "Erik please…I need this job."

He stopped in his tracks, not believing the pleading he heard in her voice. He slowly, determinedly turned toward her, his eyes mocking her with every word as he said, "Why, pray tell, would the Viscountess de Changy need a job as a lowly governess?"

The biting words he heard coming from his own mouth, served to surprise even him. He could not bring himself to a level of civility; but instead, felt vindicated in his actions.

Christine did not move, but stood looking at him, still not believing that he was there before her, "Raoul and I divorced almost four years ago." Christine admitted, her voice trailing off in the aftermath.

Erik slowly turned his head toward her, not fully believing what she was saying. Surely, she had not divorced Prince Charming…he had been perfect for her…

"I was dying under his family's ridicule; ridicule which he did nothing about." She spat the words out, loathing dripping on every syllable. "He married me and then put me on his mantle…that is all I was to him, a pretty little trinket to place on display."

Erik was surprised at the vehement way she spoke of the man she had loved so much. The man to whom he had relinquished the only woman he would ever love.

"I suspected he was cheating on me…but he would come to me every night and demand his 'husbandly rights'…the whole act sickened me…he cared only about himself." She looked at Erik as she spoke of such things…his face gave no hint to his thoughts.

"We divorced after almost four years…and a month after the divorce…I found I was pregnant. They left me with nothing; no money, no name…nothing." She stated.

Erik did not let his shock at her story show. He kept his features shadowed and his eyes steady.

Christine lifted defiant eyes to Erik, seeking his understanding, "Raoul must never know about Jean Luc."

Erik arose and walked over to the fireplace, moving the logs around with the poker, "I'm sorry, Christine…all I wanted was for you to be happy." He said distantly, his eyes never leaving the fire.

Christine moved to stand behind him, raising her hand to touch the broad width of his powerful shoulder, but Erik must have been aware of her slowly descending hand, and stood up.

"I understand why you need the job, but now that you know that you would be working for me…Nancy will show you out." He murmured; no emotion in his beautiful voice.

His eyes held no remnant of the former passion he had felt for her. Whatever love he had once held for her, had certainly died.

"Erik, please…Grace needs a mother figure…" Christine started, and her words choked in her throat as Erik spun around and loomed down on her.

"Don't even begin to tell me what my daughter needs!" He seethed through a clenched jaw.

His face was inches away from hers; livid pools of anger were dancing in his inimitable eyes; this was the man she remembered, unbending and passionate; the man who made her blood race and heart beat furiously. He was everything she remembered him to be, and handsome on top of it all.

"I will not tolerate anyone undermining my role with Grace." He said in a menacingly low voice, which carried all the resounding beauty he possessed. "I believe I said that Nancy will show you the way out."

He dismissed her with a sweep of his hand and the turn of his back. He strolled out the door and down the hall, leaving Christine to ponder the events that had just occurred.

With tears in her eyes and shaking hands, she retrieved Jean Luc from Nancy, who hated to see him go, Grace cried tears of disappointment, not understanding why Christine could not be her governess.

"There are circumstances which cannot be overcome, sweetheart; your father and I…" Christine could not complete her sentence; she looked into Grace's beautiful eyes, so like Erik's…and wondered about the woman who had finally taken his heart and body.

Christine hailed the cab and rode back to Brigitte's in complete despondency. Jean Luc rested against her breast, making sucking noises with his lips as he sucked his thumb; it was time to break him of that habit, but for some reason, Christine wished she could take solace in such a simple act.

TBC