"Good evening, Mademoiselle." Suddenly, his words were tumbling out in a torrent, barely decipherable. "I was coming to congratulate you on your decision to audition for the role of Margeurite. You and Carlotta. I was having trouble finding your apartment, even after the tour - were you not one of the young ladies who led that tour? And I heard the most beautiful, sweet voice singing the Jewel Song, so I supposed this must be the door. I've never heard such singing! I knocked and you answered, so it was the right door, I guess and…here." He began to thrust the flowers into her arms, but thought better of it and offered them with a gentlemanly bow and flourish.
Christine glanced behind her into the apartment to make sure that Erik was out of sight before she accepted the bouquet. "Why, thank you, M. deChagny…"
"Raoul,
Mademoiselle, call me Raoul. I am not so attached to title as my
brother."
"Thank you. Raoul. The flowers are lovely. I must go
put them in water." She turned to do so but he called after her.
"Madamoiselle Daae, I see that the flowers I brought are an insult to the lady. Please, accept my apology by joining me for dinner tomorrow night. You and an escort of your choice, of course. I will send a carriage to pick you up. There is a wonderful restaurant off of Rue Scribe called Le Chateau Anglais. If you would care to join me, that is."
He waited, but Christine only watched him, confused.
Raoul interpreted her confusion as affront at his forwardness. "Mademoiselle, forgive my boldness. Would you care to take dinner with me tomorrow at eight o'clock at Le Chateau Anglais?"
Christine smiled. She had never been asked to dinner with a young man before. Then she thought of her strict teacher, waiting just beyond the mirror in the parlor. She blushed and stammered, "If you will leave your calling card, I will send you word tomorrow morning. I…I must ask leave."
Raoul was stunned. Any other girl in all of Paris would have accepted his offer before he could finish making it. He was the handsome younger brother of the Vicompte deChagny, and yet this solemn Opera girl had him standing in the hallway practically begging for an audience. That she had not shamelessly pounced in his invitation made her all the more alluring.
"Then I await your response eagerly. Good night, Mademoiselle Daae." He pressed his card into her hand, bowed, and left.
Trembling with excitement over her first date and nervousness over Erik's response, Christine put the flowers in a vase of water next to the beautiful bouquet Erik had left with the costume. The pinks, which had seemed sweetly pretty in the doorway, looked anemic next to Erik's offering. She returned to the parlor and stepped up to the mirror.
"Angel? Are you still here?"
Erik was, indeed, still there. He could not hear the conversation between Christine and the boy at the door, but he saw her accept the flowers and then accept his calling card. In the small chamber he stood gritting his teeth and pressing his fist painfully against the wall. The bliss of her touch was long evaporated. He felt despair and resignation. He could never compete in the suit of a young lady with such a man. Glad of the mask that covered his face, he stepped stiffly back into the parlor.
Christine saw the change in his demeanor, and waited for him to forbid her to go to dinner with Raoul. He appeared to be waiting for her to speak first.
"That was the Vicompte deChagny's younger brother, Raoul," she began.
"I am familiar with the boy." his rich baritone conveyed only contempt.
"He has asked me to join him for dinner tomorrow at Le Chateau Anglais," she began unconsciously playing with her necklace. "I'd like to go. I told him I'd have to ask leave…"
"Of whom? For what? I'm sure that a lady of your age is quite free to go as she pleases." Erik's tone was formal. His voice betrayed nothing of his anguish.
"You don't mind? We could meet earlier for our lesson." He was not going to forbid her; Christine's heart leaped in her chest.
"There will be no lesson tomorrow. Go, Margeurite, and enjoy the evening." And may the devil take the boy.
Erik expected her to smile and thank him blithely. Instead, she laid her hand on his arm and turned her earnest gaze up to meet his. He smelled the fresh scent of her skin and the slightly dusty smell of the costume. She was only trying to communicate her sincerity, but he felt every inch of his skin tingle with chills. She had touched him! Twice in one night!
"I don't want to miss my lesson with you. Could we, perhaps, practice on the stage again? Like before? Having accompaniment helps my timing and being on the…"
"If that would please you, we will meet on the stage. At three o'clock I shall be waiting."
Erik opened the mirror and pretended to leave, but after the latch clicked behind him, he stood and watched his lovely protege. She was executing a slow turn in front of the mirror and giggling. This was the girl he had not allowed her to be for so many years. He wondered at the painful thump of his heart in his chest.
Raoul deChagny had never shown himself to be anything but an honorable man. Perhaps he was not as bright as some, but he was as good as any. And I doubt he is twice a murderer. The bitter thought doused any jealousy he might have felt. Christine deserved to be courted by a normal man who could give her a normal date. No stages, no lessons...no masks.
"Go, Margeurite," he murmured, turning from the dancing girl. "Go and enjoy your dinner."
