"Is Mademoiselle Daae in?" Raoul inquired of the demure maid who had answered the door at the home of Christine's caretaker, Mama Valerius.
"Oui, monsieur," she answered, signaling for him to enter. He stepped inside the small sitting room, removing his hat and gloves as the maid went to fetch Christine. His eyes lit up as she entered the room, a small but genuine smile on her lips.
"How are you feeling today, mon amour?" he asked, lightly kissing her cheeks. Being so close to her, he could see that her eyes were red from crying. Though it troubled him to see her in pain, he did his best to remain cheerful.
"I am feeling much better, now that you are here," she replied, leading him to the settee. "Would you like me to send for tea?"
"No, darling, that's not necessary. I'm afraid that I won't be able to stay long."
Christine's face fell. "I had hoped that we would be able to spend some time together."
"I had as well, chéri. But unfortunately I am required to attend a business meeting in my brother's stead."
"Of course. I completely understand," Christine said, the polite smile on her face faltering.
Raoul drew her into his arms, rubbing her back as she wrapped her arms about his neck. Raoul silently cursed Erik, blaming him for all of Christine's pain and insecurity. He thought of the unseen scars that Erik's years of deception and betrayal had left upon Christine's heart and mind. He cared not what spiritual punishments he might endure for his angry and vengeful thoughts; he couldn't help but feel that, had Erik not already been dead, he would not have hesitated in killing him.
"I have an idea that may serve to brighten your spirits," Raoul offered.
Christine pulled back, her brows arched in curiosity.
"An old friend of my brother's, the Marquis de Touraine, is hosting a ball in a few evenings. My sisters have come to Paris for the occasion. I thought perhaps you might want to spend some time becoming acquainted with them and join me at the ball?"
A soft smile returned to Christine's lips before she pressed them to Raoul's. "I can think of nothing I would enjoy more."
"Then I shall send my valet at once to tell them to expect you," Raoul, excitement evident in his voice.
He leaned in and, after placing another kiss on Christine's lips, whispered, "I love you."
He walked to the door, turning back every so often to glance at Christine. She felt heat spring to her cheeks every time he turned to smile at her. Then, suddenly remembering something, Raoul stopped in the doorway. He faced Christine, nervously twirling his hat in his hands. "There is something that I must ask of you, Christine. My brother has a rather strict view on propriety and etiquette. I think that, for the time being, it would be best that we not speak of the engagement to anyone."
Raoul could easily read the disappointment on Christine's face. He quickly crossed the room and sat himself beside her.
"There is no need to worry," he said in a tender voice, stroking her soft curls. "After I have spent some time properly courting you, I will announce our engagement to the world. I will shout it from the rooftops for all of Paris to hear. Every person I pass on the street shall hear how elated I am to be engaged to the breathtaking Christine Daae."
Christine giggled quietly, a dim light of happiness returning to her deep brown eyes. Raoul was comforted by that light; since she had learned of Erik's death, Raoul had seen it die out as if attacked by a cold wind. He was relieved to see that the light was not gone forever.
"I love you, Raoul. I will do as you ask."
Once Raoul had departed, Christine hurried to her room to prepare herself to meet his sisters. He had always spoken of them with such affection. They had served the place of his mother, just as Philippe had been required to act as his father. Raoul had lost both of his parents at a young age- his mother while giving birth to him and his father shortly thereafter. His oldest sister, Genevieve, was married to the Duc de Beaufort. She had the more rounded figure of her mother, as well as her porcelain skin and dark hair. She was, apparently, quite an accomplished pianist. His other sister, Roslin, was born barely a year before him. She shared her brother's light hair, but had a more slender build than her sister. She was greatly admired by all the young gentlemen, and for her part, enjoyed playing coy. She took pleasure in the attention bestowed upon her by all the young men, and found great difficulty in selecting just one to award with her affections.
As she finally settled upon a pale blue dress and bonnet, Christine was suddenly struck with a fear that ran through her veins like ice. What happened if they didn't like her? What if she should do something to embarrass herself and draw attention to her lower status? She knew how Raoul valued his sisters' opinion. Should they disapprove of her, would Raoul end their engagement? He had already asked her to keep it secret; perhaps he was ashamed, not wanting his family to know that he would stoop to marry a chorus girl-turned diva.
"Don't be foolish, Christine," she chided herself. "He loves you. He has already risked so much for you. He is not going to give you up now."
Christine looked over her appearance a final time, making sure that she had cleaned her hands and face, before putting on her bonnet and gloves. Outside, she found Raoul's carriage, the footman, and the driver waiting for her.
"Monsieur de Chagny requested that we escort you to the ladies' townhouse," the footman addressed her politely
"I see," Christine replied, slightly confused. "But how did he-"
"He took a horse back into town, Mademoiselle," the footman interjected.
"I am sorry that I caused you to wait so long," Christine said as the footman helped her into the carriage.
" 'Tis no trouble, my lady," he responded, closing the door once she had been seated.
Once he had taken his place beside the driver, the carriage pulled away from the house, heading towards the city. After a short ride, they arrived at a townhouse in the heart of Paris which Roslin, Genevieve, and her Duke had rented for the next few months. They wished to spend their entire spring in Paris- the Duke attending to business, and the sisters shopping and attending social events.
The footman stepped down from his seat and approached the window of the carriage. "May I take your card in?" he asked.
Christine's stomach twisted into a knot. "I…I don't have a card."
"Then I shall go announce your presence, Mademoiselle Daae."
"Thank you," she called weakly. Oh God, this is hardly the way to begin. For a moment Christine thought of leaping from the carriage and running back to Mama Valerius's house, but fear kept her frozen where she sat.
The footman knocked on the door of the house and spoke quietly with the butler who answered, a tall middle-aged man with cold features. He disappeared into the house for a moment, then returned for more hushed words with the footman. After a moment, the footman returned to the carriage, opening the door and holding out his hand for Christine.
"The ladies are prepared to meet you."
Christine nodded slightly, stepping down from the carriage and entering the house. The butler led her to a sitting room where Genevieve sat at a desk writing a letter, Roslin in a large armchair doing needlepoint.
"Mademoiselle Daae," the butler announced as Christine entered the room.
Roslin immediately stood from her chair, setting aside her needlepoint before crossing the room to embrace Christine and place a light kiss on her cheek.
"We are so thrilled that you were able to join us today, Christine," she said enthusiastically.
"Of course it would have been polite of Raoul to give us more advanced notice," Genevieve broke in.
"Oh hush, Genevieve," Roslin scolded her. "It is our duty to make our guest feel welcome."
Both sisters glared at each other coldly before Genevieve turned back to the desk and Roslin was able to concentrate once more on Christine.
"Would you care for some refreshment, Christine?" she asked, her countenance yet again bright and cheerful.
"N…no thank you," she stammered, surprised at how warmly Roslin had accepted her.
"I feel as though we are already friends, Raoul has spoken of you so often."
"He has spoken to you about me?" Christine asked, a bit taken aback.
"He has tried to conceal it, but his affections for you are quite obvious," Roslin said with a playful smile, her voice low so as not to draw the attention of her older sister.
Looking in Genevieve's direction, Roslin raised her voice. "Ugh, I have been cooped up inside this stuffy house all day. Would you care to join me for a walk, Christine?"
"That would be lovely," Christine responded confidently, her nerves settled by Roslin's kindness.
Roslin smiled, a wide beautiful grin. "Voletta," she called to her maid, "Mademoiselle Daae and I wish to walk about town. Please go upstairs to prepare our walking dresses."
Christine tried to conceal her confusion. Walking dresses?
"No need to worry, Christine. You can wear one of mine," Roslin said, patting Christine's hand. "Voletta will help you dress," she nodded to Voletta, signaling to her to take Christine upstairs.
"Of course, Miss. This way."
Christine followed Voletta up the stairs to Roslin's bedroom. It was very inviting, a bright sunny yellow. A light breeze blew through the window, ruffling the gossamer curtains. Christine noticed several beautiful canvases, landscapes painted in the impressionist tradition, scattered about the room waiting to be placed. Christine inquired about the artist as Voletta helped her dress.
"Mademoiselle de Chagny painted them herself."
"She is quite talented," Christine remarked.
"Though she would never reveal it to anyone close to her," Voletta responded.
"Why ever not?" Christine was shocked. Why would someone hide such a gift?
"I suppose the reason is that no one ever really took notice of it. Madame de Beaufort was quite a gifted pianist. It was her talent that everyone took interest in. Mademoiselle de Chagny was always the prettier of the two; her talent was supposed to be in forging friendships and obtaining an advantageous marriage. I don't think anyone expected any art from Mademoiselle de Chagny."
Christine released a deep sigh. She could not imagine her life if her singing had been discouraged in favor of the development of a social network. It felt strange to her- a woman of her status pitying a woman such as Roslin. She stayed in the room, more closely examining the paintings as Voletta prepared Roslin for their walk.
When both women were adequately dressed they set about their walk, arms linked, and Voletta a few steps behind. It was a comfortably warm spring, with a light breeze that carried the scent of blossoms just beginning to bloom. The two women smiled courteously as they passed others on the street. Christine couldn't help but notice how Roslin caught the eyes of all the young gentlemen who saw her, but she quickly turned her attention back to Roslin. They began with polite conversation, speaking of the weather, the parties to be held in the city. But they quickly began to speak informally, as though they were reunited friends catching up after a long separation.
Roslin glanced around cautiously, certain that no one was walking close enough to hear. The playful grin which had put Christine at such ease earlier returned to her lips. "Now Christine, what is this that I hear of an engagement between you and my brother?"
The color quickly drained from Christine's face. How could she have known? Christine remembered her promise to Raoul, quickly denying any news of an engagement.
"Christine, there is no need to worry. Your secret is perfectly safe with me. I have seen a light in my brother's eyes and heard a song in his voice that only come when he speaks of you. I would not do or say anything to deny him that. If my brother loves you, that is enough for me."
Relief quickly flooded her. "Oh Roslin, you have no idea how I have dreaded this meeting and keeping this secret. I can't thank you enough."
Roslin smiled, but her eyes quickly softened as her voice took on a more reserved tone. "My sister, however, is another matter. I would not reveal your engagement in her presence yet."
"I don't think she likes me very much," Christine said sadly, looking down to her hands.
"I know she seems cold now, but give her some time. She is very caring and fiercely protective of those she loves. She is a very loyal companion, once she has gotten to know you."
Christine beamed, comforted by Roslin's words. Perhaps it was not her personally that Genevieve seemed to detest, but merely the stranger that she knew little about.
"Are you excited about the ball that the Marquis is hosting?" Roslin asked.
"I am quite looking forward to it. But I'm afraid…" Christine trailed off.
"What?"
"I'm afraid that I am unfamiliar with the etiquette now required of me. I do not want to be an embarrassment to myself or your brother."
"Christine, Raoul could never be ashamed of you!" Roslin exclaimed.
"I hope I am not too bold in my request," Christine began, her cheeks flushing, "but do you think that you could perhaps instruct in how to behave?"
"It would be my greatest honor," Roslin answered with a giggle. "I will call upon you tomorrow afternoon to begin our lessons."