Disclaimer: Don't own Phantom. ….yea, let's just point that out and make me feel sad over, and over and over and over again, etc.
Stefynae: Oh, my gosh! The creator of icherisherik….I'm not worthy! You're a genius, btw. Thank you so much for reading this…and noting my inconsistencies. Ah! I'll probably have to go through this entire thing someday and fix all of those little things and edit it down…thank you so much for pointing that out to me!
White Time Ranger: Yea, I figured you had already read this. It was a contest entry for potocontest over at LJ. And thank you for explaining that abbreviation for me…I feel so dense as far as language goes….I only recently found out what AU was. Sad, no?
Ryio16: Aww! Don't cry! You're so sweet! I hope you enjoy this next chapter – it shoulden't be sad!
Phruity: You totally own Erik!candle. Like woa. People are…uh…jealous! You know you're falling in love with Raoul. You'll just have to deal.
VictorianDream: I absolutely adored your review. Thank you so much for both your kind words and constructive thoughts. I realize the beginning is fairly slow, and I hope it picks up, as you said, as I progress. Thank you so much!
My reviews make me a very happy Authoress, so please! Keep it up! Now, I present to you…chapter 3! 3
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The holidays passed our home nonchalantly. If it had not been for Victoire I would not have even noticed the coming and going of Christmas. For her sake, and for her sake alone, we had a quiet, intimate, celebration.
I became more engrossed with the small business I had began in London when we had first come. Giving Mlle. Burnett the run of the house in all but title. She knew of all the comings and goings of the staff, and had Victoire on a vigorous schedule. I only had to ask her to know what was going on from that afternoon until the next three to four weeks.
I thought continuously of the promise I had made to Christine. But kept thinking more so of my duties as a Father. To provide the best life I could for my child…and to live locked up in a town home in London to a little girl should have be a crime. I could not send her to my sister's, I had promised Christine that. Yet, I could not keep her in London – she would surely suffocate. I also feared she was going to suffer from lack of a Mother and a constant Father. Not one who fled to the sanctity of finances and industry as I so often did. What is a man to do when he can not handle what is right in his home but seek out mental distractions?
The Governess found me one afternoon, sitting quietly in the library.
"Sir?"
I jumped slightly, not expecting the disturbance.
"I hope I'm not intruding, I was simply coming to find a book to-"
"No need to explain, Mademoiselle, you are practically the Mistress of this house now"
She frowned at my insinuation. "Once more, sir, I'm very sorry to intrude." She began to walk away, and I waited for her to turn around and curtsy as she always had. It was never something I had required, simply something she had done since the first day. To my surprise, she did not turn back.
"Adelaide," I called back, "come here, please. I'd like to ask you something."
The expression on her face when she turned around was priceless.
"Excuse me?"
"My apologies," I said, a smile creeping on to my face. "Mademoiselle Burnett, I need to ask you something."
Her face relented slightly, her eyebrow still arched. "Yes?"
I stood, rounding her slightly, as if I was trying to challenge her to a dual. "Please, sit."
She sat down cautiously, her eyes never leaving my face.
"How is Victoire? I don't mean simply in her studies…but, her person?"
She stared at me for a moment, as if it was the most ridiculous question she ever heard but she was trying not to tell me. "She lost her Mother almost six months ago, sir, I hardly expect her to be the girl she was. Her studies go on well, she is a determined little thing."
I smiled at the last statement and looked away, surprisingly intimidated by her icy glare. Yet, something in that face…
"How do you think she would react to a Stepmother?"
I watched Adelaide struggle to keep her face as expressionless as possible – though she was clearly surprised by the question.
"If it was a woman she had an opportunity to get to know before she was forced into having a foreign step-Mother, then, yes, I can even think of how beneficial it would be for her."
I walked over to the fireplace, leaning my elbow on the mantle and studying the ornate clock. I had promised Christine to do my best to take care of Victoire – I had never promised not to remarry. And if that was the best for Victoire…and perhaps even for myself? Less then we'd like to admit, men need a wife to keep them sane.
I turned and looked at Adelaide again. She had that look on her face that told me she was trying to analyze my every move – attempting to understand what I was contemplating.
"Are you promised to anyone, Mademoiselle Burnett? In marriage I mean."
She let her façade down and her narrow mouth formed a surprised O. She stood up quickly and put both hands on her hips.
"You sir! – have been reading far too many novels, and I suggest you move on from Charlotte Bronte…I never did agree with Jane Eyre's views on Religion anyhow," she laughed shortly and then added in such a demeaning tone, "perhaps an Austen, then?"
She turned to walk away, but I quickly grabbed her wrist and turned her to face me.
"Mademoiselle Burnett…Adelaide, please," I needed to express my thoughts to her somehow. They were so complex, however, I did not even know where to begin. "You know a man can not raise a child on his own…and you would be happy with me, I swear it. You'll need not work if you chose not to, of course, and I thought it was a bit apparent that I am fond of you…" I trailed off, not even knowing how to continue.
For the first time I had silenced her quick tongue. I could almost see the mechanics of her mind going over every possibility, every aspect of her choices and the outcome.
"To do it properly, sir, you are to ask my Father first. But seeing as that is quite impossible, you've gone so far as to skip the second formality. Are you not going to kneel?"
I smiled, for I had won. I knelt down, sliding my hand down from my grasp on her wrist, so now I held her by the hand.
"Adelaide Burnett, it would please me greatly to have you by my side as a wife and friend. Do you consent?"
She raised her head for a moment, and let her eyes fall into mine.
"Yes, Raoul de Chagny. It would be my pleasure."
XXXXX
I had been frightened beyond expression through words when the Master first brought up the discussion of a second wife. I had heard the maids whispering about it since the death of the Mistress…everyone thought he would ask me. Part of me always wished he would, and the other half dreaded it. Yet, I never fully believed he would really succumb to asking me – a lowly Governess- to be his wife. From my view point, it read like a novel. Though, I knew in my story there was no lunatic woman in the attic.
His proposal was so sudden, I had expected it to come perhaps even two years after his wife's death: not six months! What was I supposed to say? 'No?' Wouldn't that have been ridiculous? No, sir, I do not wish to be married to a kind, affluent, man…I'd much prefer being governess to spoiled children for the rest of my life…why do you ask? I would have had to have been a fool to say that.
I paced my bedroom in the de Chagny mansion. I was lodged in the maid's quarters, to the right of the servant stairs by the kitchen. When Raoul had proposed, I thought only of duty and what my family would think. Now, standing in my bedroom, I thought of what it all actually meant now.
I am to be a wife of a Vicomte. I shall be a Vicomtess. My God… it was so surreal. It's every little girl's fantasy to marry a man like him. I was no exception as a child. What young lady does not want to be wed to a man as kind and dear…as protective and adoring?
I did not press any aspects of it. I planned on staying silent and indifferent, letting him plan as he pleased. I found myself thinking back to how he had been with his first wife; always whispering sweet nothings, embracing and kissing…as if I did not desire that and more. But I had to remember my place. I am the replacement. I am the wife because he needs a wife, not because he loves me. It was the endless cycle I had watched throughout my life in London. It is understood to all women who fit the role. You are to love him, fill in the role of Mistress of the house and a mother to his children, perhaps even provide more at his wish…and never question his intentions. Everything from now on will be "Yes, husband" and "As you say, dear"…and I knew exactly how to play the part. I had always been one that could learn only by watching.
I sat quietly copying what I wished the wedding invitation to read so we could send them to be professionally copied. I looked over at my husband-to-be periodically. He was engrossed in a letter he had received the previous evening from the head of his military division in Britain, oblivious to my stolen glances.
On the corner of the desk I was sitting at was the constantly growing guest list. It sat there silently, mocking me. My insides churned with fear even thinking about having to be starred at by hundreds of people for an entire ceremony. They would all be thinking the same thing in unison. The second wife. I snatched it quickly, unthinking, and scanned the names again, not realizing I had made quite a clatter in the process.
Raoul sighed and walked over to the desk, leaning on it slightly and tapping to get my attention.
"Adelaide, is this what you want?"
He gestured to the piles of papers and drawings concerning the wedding.
"Of course," I said simply, looking up and smiling gently.
"Is it?" He raised his eyebrow, "Is it really?"
I looked down, embarrassed he had seen through my quick attempt to deceive him and shook my head.
"Well," he began, standing up and walking over to the window. Looking out the window, I had learned, was the best way he thought things through. "I've been thinking…it's not quite what I want either. I was thinking, more of a simple ceremony. At the city centre, perhaps?"
A civil union!
A proper woman should only speak out on certain, important matters. I chose to fight a battle here.
"I would rather the marriage be blessed by a priest," he was still looking away, and I was quickly afraid again. "But, I don't mind either way…I mean, a service at the City Hall sounds delightful, I-"
"No, you're correct," he said lightly, walking back to the desk. "You deserve to be wed by a priest, if not in front of our friends and families."
I blushed and kept my eyes downcast. Submissive.
After a moment he walked back to where he had left the letter sitting on the second desk.
"Is everything alright," I asked, genuinely concerned.
"Trouble in Africa," he muttered, "clearing the colonies' borders. They want me to over-see training in Corse….new recruits."
I stood quickly and was at his side.
"When?"
"November."
Four months from now.
"And for how long?" I could not believe I had dared to ask.
"Most likely only for four or five months, and I'm sure I'll be able to take leave and return for a while. Although, I'd have to stay in France."
"Then," I took a breath and ventured further, "are Victoire and I to remain in London?"
He looked up, confused for a moment. Apparently, Raoul had not considered this part of it.
"If you'd like to, I suppose you could."
"But, you'd rather me…" I cut off, waiting for him to fill in what he wished.
"You could always stay with my sister in Blois. There is a guest house."
The knots that had loosened after the decision on a private ceremony began to rework themselves. My God…I had never met his family. Worse, his family had never met me!
"Yes, that would be ideal. We could lease the flat here. When would you like to leave for France?"
"By mid-October, I'd like to make sure you and my daughter are comfortably settled at the estate before I take leave."
I nodded in agreement and he smiled.
We paused for a moment, I could feel my face beginning to flush at his smile, and I turned awkwardly to go back to my seat.
"Oh!" Raoul said suddenly. "I have something for you."
I turned back and followed him behind his desk and watched as he pulled open the first drawer.
Raoul drew out a small blue-velvet box.
I stood, frozen for a moment. He chuckled and grabbed hold of my wrist from my side and put it in my hand.
Inside was the most beautiful thing I had only dreamed of adorning myself with. The engagement ring had one round diamond centre stone with six round, surrounding diamonds in a prong setting and round diamond accents in a pave setting. He slipped the diamond ring on the fourth finger of my left hand and, hesitantly, kissed my forehead.
I thanked him profusely and timidly walked back to the opposite desk. Only when my back was to him did I allow myself to smile grandly and stare at my new jewel.
XXXXX
Adelaide and I were wed, quietly, on the fifteenth of July in a small chapel outside of London. She looked more beautiful on that day then I had ever seen her before. She wore her hair down, a virgin, her hair fanned out of her shoulders. I had suggested to her she not wear stark white, silently fearing chilling déjà vu's of my marriage to Christine…such selfish reasoning…but she obliged as I knew she would. Adelaide's dress was a warm crème colour instead that flattered her very much.
When the end of the ceremony came, and I was told I was to 'kiss the bride' I realized in that moment that it would be the first time I would have kissed her intimately. I pushed back the veil, and kissed her, gently, cupping her chin with my hand. When I pulled away, I was shocked to see tears accenting her green eyes.
Victoire, our only attendant, squealed in delight and we walked out of the church a newly pieced family.
Back in London, we took Victoire to the newly hired governess, and Adelaide and I left for Italy. It was her first time out of England, and I was so pleased to see how excited she was, although she never said anything.
In Italy, like I had with Christine, but sadly, I thought, to a lesser degree…I spoiled her. I took my new little wife out to the finest of restaurants and bought her pricey little items that she would smile at me for and give off repeated words of thanks.
I had achieved what I had wanted to on the honeymoon, however. Adelaide told me, in finer detail, about her parents, and her childhood. She even told stories about her and her sisters, laughing throughout…which made me just as happy. I learned her little preferences, and got to know the deeper aspects of her personality.
Though, despite a month together…I feared I had still not broken her formality. How she managed to be both subservient and independent was beyond me.
