Did she love him? What would she say? Erik's heart was in his throat as he watched her carefully to gauge her feelings. Gerard, seeing he wasn't needed, quietly withdrew and went out to the edge of the lake.

"Love trusts, Christine," Erik whispered, holding her gaze. "If you love me, then you will trust me in this. Please. Don't go."

Christine's blue eyes were huge, locked on his smoky grey ones. She took a deep breath and let it out, and then took another one. Erik felt as if his heart had stopped beating, waiting for her reply. She took one more deep breath and then nodded shakily. "All right, Erik," she said very softly. "I trust you. I won't go."

Very deliberately he enfolded her in his arms as if she were as fragile as a porcelain doll. "Thank you," he whispered in her ear, shaken by her admission.

She rested in his embrace for a moment, and then eased away. "All the same, I would like to hear what he has to say, Erik. I won't go with him to his house, but perhaps I could meet him here?"

"Down here?" Erik asked, scandalized. Did she want to have that prat come down to his house?

Christine laughed, a musical little giggle. "No, dear. Here, in the opera house. Perhaps in my dressing room."

"And you won't go with him anywhere?" Erik pressed.

She shook her head. "I'll stay here in the opera. I promise."

He considered it a moment, and finally nodded. "Very well."

Christine reached up to give him a brief kiss. "Thank you, Erik. If you don't mind, I'll write my reply now, and send it up with M. Carrière when he goes." She sat down at his desk and uncapped the inkwell.

"When do you plan to meet him?" Erik asked.

Christine thought a minute, tapping her lip with the pen. "I know he must be planning to attend the Bal Masque," she said. "Perhaps I shall send him a note to meet me there, and we can talk."

Erik smiled faintly. "I'd been planning to ask you to accompany me to it," he said. "It will be a bit of a disappointment to me, for you to attend with him instead."

Christine's face lit up as she looked up at him. "Oh, Erik! I would love to go with you! Honestly, I can't imagine that Philippe will take up too much of my time that evening."

"Thank you, Christine," Erik told her, grey eyes shining with happiness. "I had hoped—that is, I wanted to be prepared for it, should you say yes."

"What are you saying?"

"I've bought you a costume, should you wish to wear it," he said casually, but she could see that it was important to him.

Christine smiled. "Let me get this note out of the way, then, and you can show it to me."

Dear Philippe,

Thank you for your apology over what happened last night, but I am sure you will be able to understand that I must refuse your kind invitation to dinner at your house. I am sorry.

I would like to talk with you, though. Will you meet me at the Bal Masque on Saturday?

"Erik? What colour is the costume you have for me?"

"Black."

Christine went on writing:

Wear a white mask, and look for me in a black one. We will have some supper and talk in my dressing room. I have many things to tell you; we will have much to talk about. For the sake of the little girl in the kitchen, Philippe, please do not expect more from me than this. Last night was extremely frightening.

Ever your friend,

Christine

She handed the letter to Erik and gestured for him to read it. He flicked a sharp look up at her. "Supper?"

She shrugged. "It will put him more at ease."

"The man is much luckier than he deserves." Erik folded the letter, calling for Gerard as he left the room.

Christine followed him down to the edge of the lake.

"Monsieur, would you mind seeing that the Comte de Chagny gets that note?" she asked the older man.

"Of course, mademoiselle."

Gerard looked a question at her, and a faint blush stained her cheeks. "I shall not be going to dinner at his chateau," she explained, darting a quick look at Erik. "Instead I shall talk with him here, in my dressing room upstairs, on Saturday."

Gerard smiled. "A wise decision, mademoiselle," he complimented her. He tucked the note into his pocket. "Saturday is the Bal Masque, though."

"Yes; I asked him to meet me there." She cast an affectionate glance at the man in the mask standing next to her. "I am sure Erik can do without me for long enough for me to ask Philippe to stop pursuing me."

"Ordinarily, no; but for a cause as noble as that, I imagine I could force myself to endure your absence," Erik said dryly, but with fondness.

"Philippe might well be hurt," Gerard warned her. "He genuinely cares for you."

She nodded, eyes downcast. "And I care for him, a great deal. Just not in the way he wants."

"And still more than he deserves," Erik remarked. "Come, though; I'll show you your costume and we'll see if you like it. Shall you be there at the Bal, Gerard?"

"Wouldn't miss it. If you'll excuse me, I'll go and deliver this to the boy before he leaves the city."


A/N: Twinkle22, your wish is my command. You did wish for a prompt update, right? How's ten minutes sound?