Chapter 18 Visitors

On Friday morning, Jade lay in her bed exhausted. She felt as if she could sleep for days. She was still coughing but no longer had a fever, or chest pain.

Maybe he was right, and it would be best not to work for a while. Working had made her sick.

Turning her face to the door, she thought of the man who had helped her. When she had first peered up at him, the look on his face had surprised her. There had been gentleness and a tender quality in his eyes, as well as expectation.

Shaking herself out of her languid reverie, she thought, he was in my room How did he get in? Was the door unlocked? Not likely. She was always careful to lock it.

Well, obviously locked doors don't stop him when he wants in. He's a tricky fellow, and determined.

He must have been watching her in the last couple of days and seen her coughing. But he had waited until she had been very sick before entering her room.

She knew she should feel disturbed by the invasion, but oddly, she didn't. Instead, she felt grateful. He had helped her, and may have even saved her life.

With each encounter, she was becoming more indebted to him. It was quite unsettling.

Staring at her wardrobe, she wondered how long it would take to get to it. She was weak; too weak for even that simple task.

Slowly, Jade raised herself onto her elbows and with great effort, swung her legs over the side of the bed.

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That morning at the end of ballet class, Manette saw the letter that was near her personal effects. It was addressed: Ballet Mistress.

Opening it, she read:

Madame,

Your friend from the stable is quite ill and needs your assistance.

After staring at the letter with a blank expression, she turned to her assistant, and asked her to take the children to lunch. She would join them later.

Her concerns of the last few days had come to pass— her friend was finally ill. After working in the rain, and skipping meals, Jade had begun to look terrible. Manette had wanted to talk with someone who could force her to slow down but she hadn't known who to go to. Jean had said that the man who visited Jade on the weekends was a friend of the manager, and she had wondered if talking with him might help.

Arriving breathless at Jade's door, she knocked and then heard a weak voice call "enter".

Jade was sitting on the edge of her bed. Her face was pale, and the circles under her eyes looked like they'd been smudged on with eye paint. She was slumped forward with her head hanging down.

Alarmed by her appearance, Manette rushed to her side, and put a hand on her shoulder. "What happened to you, Jade?" she asked with dismay.

Slowly, Jade looked up at Manette. "Apparently, I have just suffered from a bout of pneumonia and am now recovering." Then she shrugged and looked away.

Manette helped her friend up, and went to the wardrobe. As she sorted through the garments, she noticed the brown cashmere cloak. Lightly, she brushed her hand against it and admired its softness. Beautiful, she thought. I've never seen her wear this.

When she finished helping Jade dress, she walked to the opera café. She was thinking about the mysterious note. Who had left it, and how had they gotten past her without her noticing?

Carrying two lunches back to the room, Manette approached the door, and heard a man's voice within. After a brief knock, she entered.

Inside, M. DuChant was standing next to Jade who was seated at the table. While gripping a piece of paper, he was looking down at Jade with a puzzled and angry expression. She was silently staring at the floor.

"Mme. DuBois, do you know what's going on here?" he asked impatiently as he pointed the paper at Jade.

Manette answered sharply as she stepped forward. "Monsieur, Jade has been quite ill, and I have brought her lunch." He has no business being here, and upsetting her when she's in this condition, she thought as she abruptly set the food on the table.

DuChant noticed her icy stare, and immediately calmed down. Then he turned to Jade who was still looking at the floor.

"Mademoiselle, you are obviously in need of rest. You will not be expected to return to work until you have fully recovered. I will see that your meals are sent to your room for the next few days until you are ready to return to the café. Good day."

Giving them both a nod, he left.

Manette wanted to know what had happened between Jade and DuChant but knew better than to ask. Jade had that withdrawn look that she'd get whenever she wanted to be left alone. As they ate their meals in silence, Manette watched her out of the corner of her eye.

Eager to know the identity of Jade's secret benefactor, Manette decided that in the future, she would be keeping closer tabs on her friend.

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Later that afternoon, when Pierre arrived at his room, he found a letter tacked to his door.

Pierre,

Please come immediately to my office as soon as you get this.

Jacque DuChant

DuChant was sitting at his desk when Pierre entered. After offering Pierre a chair, he pushed a piece of paper across the desk. "Read that." he said, and waited.

Pierre read the letter, which was written in bold handwriting.

M. DuChant,

It has come to my attention that you have been overworking one of your employees, a Mlle. Jade Bouta. Because of your neglect, she has become very ill. Fortunately, she will recover completely if she is given the opportunity to rest from her current duties.

Her illness is severe and she will need a one to two week holiday from work if she is to recover.

I expect you to respect my wishes. If I see her return to work before she is well, I will hold you personally responsible.

You do not wish to anger me, Monsieur. The consequences to your health would be dire.

The note was unsigned.

Pierre looked across at Duchant, who was frowning.

"What does this mean? What has happened to her?" Pierre asked as he looked intensely at DuChant.

DuChant leaned back in his chair and replied. "I have recently been to her room. She looks weak but she is sitting up at her table. I think with some rest she will be fine. I had no idea that she was ill until I came into my office, and found this note on my desk. It was slipped under the door after I left yesterday."

Now it was DuChant's turn to look intently at his friend. He resented the threat in the letter. "Pierre, who do you think wrote this?"

With a puzzled look, Pierre glanced at the letter. "I have no idea."

Suddenly standing up, he walked to the door. "I'm sorry Jacque, but I need to see her now."

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Standing outside of Jade's room, Pierre waited a moment before he knocked. He took a couple of deep breaths to calm down. If she was as sick as he feared, he didn't want to storm in and cause her more distress. The thought of her being seriously ill was deeply upsetting.

On entering, he saw Jade lying in bed propped up with pillows that Manette had brought. Her eyes were half closed as she looked up at him.

Carrying the chair over to her bed, he sat beside her, and studied her face. She looked dreadful. On the previous week she'd been fine. The last time he'd seen her had been at a café on Saturday where they had spent the hour talking. She had asked him about the madman who had called himself the Opera Ghost.

Pierre was usually not at a loss for words, but seeing her in that fragile state left him speechless. Something's different about her, he mulled It was more than the illness. There was a strange look in her eyes. What has happened to her?

For the next fifteen minutes, they sat silently together, and listened to the clock ticking. After awhile, he sensed an emptiness emanating from her. He felt it in his body as a hollow sensation beneath his heart.

She looked sad and weary, and he wanted to do something to help. Reaching into his shirt pocket, he took out the leather pouch that held the charm that she had given him. Removing the tiny silver horse from the pouch's folds, he took Jade's hand and placed it on her palm. Her fingers closed gently over it, as she looked into his eyes. Her eyes became peaceful, and a small joy radiated from her. The empty feeling in Pierre's chest vanished, and was replaced by a rush of warmth.

Taking her other hand, he held it between his, and hummed a song. Smiling gently, she settled back into her pillows, and shut her eyes.

Later, when Manette brought up supper, she found them together with Pierre holding Jade's hand as she slept.

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A single candle burned in Jade's bedroom as she prepared for bed. It had been an extraordinarily long day. There had been nothing to do except eat, and visit with people and sleep. And now it was time to sleep again. She felt restless and bored, and wished she had a book to read to pass the time. Tomorrow would be more or less the same kind of day, with the possible exception of not having to deal with DuChant.

DuChant had stood over her, and almost demanded to know who had written that letter to him. She had wondered if she was risking her job when she told him that she didn't know who had taken an interest in her. She was a poor liar, and DuChant had figured out that she was stalling. If Manette hadn't come in when she did…

Sighing deeply, she thought about how she would now have to make up a plausible story about a love interest, an over protective suitor.

She had hid her astonishment when DuChant had shown her Erik's letter. It was one thing for him to steal into her room and help her. It was another to threaten her employer! He had gone too far. She needed to find a way to stop him.

As if I have any control over what he does! she thought with frustration.

Slowly she undressed, and changed into her bedclothes. Placing a robe over her chemise, she tightly wrapped it around herself. She was thinking ahead. If he were to pay her another visit when she was sleeping, she needed to be wearing more than a flimsy undergarment.

She blushed when she thought of him handling her while she was in bed. He had been gentle and considerate, but the whole affair was still awkward and embarrassing.

Crawling into bed, she stared at the door. She needed to talk with someone about getting a large bolt. That will keep him out.

After an hour, she began to drift off. She was almost asleep when she heard something at the door. Suddenly she was wide-awake. Staring at the doorknob, she watched as it turned, and the door quickly opened.

He was in full evening dress with an opera cape draped across his broad shoulders. In the light of the single candle, his long shadow spread across the wall. Erik shut the door behind him, and walked to her table. Bending over it, he lit several candles. Then he turned and faced her.

Jade's eyes were glittering in the light, and her chin was tipped up in defiance. She met his eyes, and the two stared at each other coolly for a long minute. Then he placed something on the table, and casually sat on the chair. Facing her, he crossed his long legs.

"Good evening Jade. You really should consider getting an additional chair in your room for visitors." He gave her a mocking smile.

His arrogance made her want to get up, and slap the smile off his face. Instead, she held her hands together to stifle that dangerous urge.

"Where did you get a key to my room?" she abruptly asked him.

" I have keys to all the rooms in my opera house," he quietly answered her.

Picking up the object that he had placed on the table, he rose and walked to the bed.

Jade backed away so that she was pressed against the headboard as he stood above her. Without thinking, she grasped her robe, and held it close about her. He noticed the gesture and his eyes hardened.

"I assure you, that is not necessary," he said to her in a cold voice. He placed the object on the bed beside her, and then smoothly returned to his seat.

Jade looked down at the book that lay next to her. It was 'A Tale of Two Cities' by Charles Dickens.

She glanced up at him. He was silently watching her with an expressionless face except for his eyes, which seemed to sparkle with anticipation.

Opening the book to the first page of text, she read silently to herself, "It was the best of times, it was the worst of times…" She closed the book and looked at him. Was that a slight smile on his lips? It was hard to see his face in the shadows.

"Mademoiselle, you will be needing something to entertain yourself while you recover from your illness. Feel free to borrow this for as long as you wish." With that, he got up and turned to the door.

"Wait!" she said suddenly. The moment she spoke she couldn't believe what she had done. Her practical side silently cursed her stupidity.

Erik stopped, and then slowly turned towards her. His left eyebrow was slightly arched but his face showed no other expression.

Looking down at the book, she gauged her feelings, and then looked up at the tall man. He was an intruder, but he had not harmed her. She owed him a great deal, and it was time to start paying him back.

She worked her way off the bed, and walked past him to her dresser. Inside was a box of sweets that she had bought for Gillian. Carrying the box to the table, she then turned to her uninvited guest.

"Monsieur…Erik. Would you please stay for a few moments, and tell me about the book you've lent me? You are correct. I really do need to get a second chair for my room." She removed the lid from the box, and gestured for him to sit at the table.

For the next hour, Jade sat on her bed with her back against the headrest, and Erik sat at the table as he paged through the book. He was explaining the historic aspects of Dickens' work, and describing his other novels.

Jade listened with half closed eyes. The warm candlelight softened the starkness of the white mask, and bathed his face in shadows. As he spoke, his eyes played with hers. Sometimes they were casual, at other times penetrating. And his voice…it was what one would expect to hear in church from the mouth of a gifted priest. It was beautiful, and she resisted the impulse to shut her eyes and give herself up to it.

Suddenly, he stopped talking, and looked at her intently. Then he rose, and placed the book on the table. When he again faced her, there was a stern expression on his face.

"Your are not to go outside for a least a week, and that includes trips to the café. You must arrange to have your meals brought to you. I will check in on you and let you know when you can return to work. Do not disobey me on this matter." He frowned at her to emphasize his point.

Jade got up and opened the door. She looked into the hallway to be sure that no one was about, and then signaled him with her eyes that it was safe to leave. He looked straight ahead, as if she were not there, and glided out the door.

Afterwards, she sat at the table and flipped through the book he had given her. In spite of the excitement caused by his visit, she was again tired. She blew out all but one candle, and then slid beneath the covers. The sheets were still warm. Stretching out her legs, she turned onto her side, and stared at the table.

He had appeared relaxed while sitting there, as if he belonged in her room. At times his distance had dropped away, and he had sounded like a teacher lecturing a favored student. She had the feeling that the visit tonight had been as unique an experience for him as it had been for her.

Shutting her eyes, she was soon asleep. For the first time in nearly a week, she didn't dream of blood and horses. Instead, she listened to the intonations of a distant voice that pulled her into the shadows.