A/N Sorry this took so long! Hope you enjoy! Please review!

Chapter 7

Once they arrived home, Erik helped Isabelle out of the carriage as Maurice got all their packages from the stores. They went inside to find lunch was ready for them and ate in silence. Isabelle found the silence insufferable, she wanted to talk about anything, rather than sit in the maddening quietness.

"Where are you from Erik?" Isabelle asked, breaking the trance he seemed to be in.

"I can't remember, but I lived in Paris most of my life," Erik answered, startled at her question, "Where were you born?"

"I was born in Marseille, but we moved to Paris about 3 years ago for my father's business," she replied. Realizing she knew nothing of him, except he loved music, she wanted to get to know her masked friend.

"What kind of business did your father do?" Erik asked, curious about what her life had been like.

"He ran a winery, and it became very successful," Isabelle answered, "We never really had money problems, so my parents sent me away to a boarding school in England for my education. My brother was too young to go and died before they could think of where to send him."

"How did he die?" Erik asked abruptly then realizing it was rude apologized hastily.

"No, it is fine, he died of consumption," she said simply, not wanting to discuss the death anymore of her beloved little brother, "His name was Jean, he was eight when he died."

They sat silently for a while, occasionally picking at the food on their plates.

"Erik what was your childhood like?" Isabelle asked, not realizing it was a sensitive subject for Erik.

"It was very rough, and I do not like to speak of it," Erik replied tersely. Isabelle winced at the coldness of his tone and ate the rest of the meal in silence.

"I apologize for my reply, I had a terrible childhood and try to keep it in the past, so I am not reminded of the cruelties of life," Erik said, feeling bad for using such a harsh tone at Isabelle, when she knew nothing of his horrible life.

"I'm sorry to have pressed it, I should not pry in your personal life," she replied, matching the cold tone he had used mere moments before. Her tone shocked Erik, especially as she abruptly excused herself and walked away, leaving Erik confused at why she should be mad and not him.

Isabelle walked out the door leading from the kitchen outside and walked toward the orchards, they were the only place she felt safe to deal with her emotions peacefully lately. She sat down under a shady tree and looked up at it, realizing the leaves where changing and soon winter would come. It saddened her that she would no longer be able to find comfort here during the cold months.

Isabelle wanted a friendship in Erik very badly, she was very lonely and could tell by the sadness in Erik's eyes that he knew loneliness like she did. She briefly thought about how he stiffened when she asked about his childhood, she did not understand how bad life could be for him and wondered if it had anything to do with his deformity.

While thinking all this Isabelle did not realize Erik had followed her. He stood in the shadows for a moment and watched all the emotions change in her face, she looked very distressed about something and Erik hoped it was not his fault. He really had not meant to be so harsh, he just hated speaking of the so called childhood he had.

"Isabelle?" he said softly. Startled Isabelle shrieked and stood up quickly, tripping over her skirts and nearly fell, but Erik had caught her in time.

"Oh! I am sorry!" she said, blushing in embarrassment, "I did not realize you were there, and you startled me!"

"Do not worry about it, I should not have been so quiet," Erik said, his lips twitching as he saw the expression of shock cross her face. Isabelle noticed him almost smiling, and it made her very pleased that he does have a sense of humor.

"Erik what did you do before you moved here?" Isabelle asked, as they sat down together.

"I was a composer and a music teacher." He said, purposely leaving out anything remotely similar to the Opera Ghost and Christine. He was not ready to talk about it, his heart was still healing.

"Erik.." she said unsure of his reaction, "were you the Opera Ghost?"