A/N: there are a couple passages in this chapter that are sexually suggestive, but not terribly explicit.

Chapter 38 Secrets

Erik slowly pulled himself out of bed, and stood in front of the mirror. His left side was a mass of bruised, aching muscles and discolored skin. Firmly, he pressed on his ribs while inhaling, and was relieved to find that nothing was broken.

After applying salve to the injured areas, he stepped into the kitchen, and prepared breakfast. As he ate his meal, he opened one of the medical books that were piled on the table. He had acquired that little esoteric collection after discovering Christine's pregnancy. The texts were in different languages, and detailed a variety of after childbirth illnesses.

Tonight he would visit Christine again.

His aching arm interrupted his studies. Frowning, he pushed against the table, and tested its strength. It would be difficult to climb to the second story balcony with an injured limb but he would manage. Last night's unexpected snowfall had disrupted his descent from the balcony when he grabbed an icy handhold. After falling, he had limped away, and cursed his bad luck.

He read for two hours, and then pushed the tomes aside. Pulling out a sheet of stationery, he stared at it thoughtfully as he recalled his missed appointment with Jade. I will have to delay bringing her to my home for another day, he considered as he rubbed his shoulder.

Putting pen to paper, he wrote:

My dearest Jade,

I would have met you last night, but I was unexpectedly detained.

I will come for you on Friday.

Please join me for supper.

Erik

Staring at the note for a moment, he then sealed it, and laid it on top of a book that he had set aside for her. As he ran his fingers over its cover, he could see the intense look in her eyes when she read. The woman devoured knowledge.

The singed odor of candle wax floated in the air. Glancing at the candelabra, he noted the sooty smoke of a poorly burning candle. Reaching out, he extinguished it. As the slivered heat nipped his fingers, Christine's sweat soaked face rose before him. Her cries of anguish still echoed in his mind.

Yesterday, Erik's hands had shaken when he held the note. The doctor has been notified that the Comtess de Chagny is in labor, it had read. Immediately, he had returned to his home, gathered his things, and gone to her.

As he had stood on the balcony, his muscles had tightened into hard bands while he watched the tears stream down Christine's face. Seeing her in pain had been nearly unbearable. He knew ancient, oriental techniques that would dull the pain, and speed delivery. But he had not dared to reveal himself unless her life was in jeopardy.

It was the custom for a husband to leave his wife as she bore their child. No matter if she died from the effort. The husband would be brought in afterwards to say farewell to her corpse.

"Monsieur Vicomte de Chagny," he spat out as he walked to the organ. If you can not care for your wife in her need, then you have no business putting your hands on her!

Sitting down in front of the great instrument, he exhaled slowly as he felt the throbbing in his side.

He had to go to her tonight. Only when he was certain that she was safe would he be able to rest peacefully.

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The next day, Jade stood in the management offices, and tidied her desk. She had been extremely busy that week as she handled orders for the new opera. Several feet away sat Mme. Truffaut in her straight back chair, as she efficiently handled paper work. Jade glanced at the office matriarch, who looked like a cross between a satisfied cat and a steely bird of prey. The only office duty that remained was for Jade to go to the auditorium, and speak with M. Bellet. Then she'd be free to go to the stables and exercise the horses.

Dreamily she shuffled the paperwork as she thought of her upcoming visit with Erik. Would he play for her again? Or would there be another discussion tonight? She flushed a little as she thought of his intense eyes when he had answered her queries. Accustomed to keeping her mouth shut, it was exhilarating to have an extended conversation with him. The only other person she had ever had lengthy, intellectual discussions with had been Brother Gregory from the monastery.

Dear Brother Gregory. He had been a gentle instructor, who had encouraged her to speak her mind. What a joy their debates had been! How different from the stifling, boring classes in the abbey.

Grabbing her cloak, she headed for the stage. There was a piece of business she had to finish with M. Bellet. Yesterday she had gone to his home, and supervised deliveries of goods. All had gone well until a large bureau was brought in that had been damaged during the delivery. Jade had argued with the merchant about its condition, and finally demanded that he replace the item. She needed to get M. Bellet's instructions as to what would be an acceptable substitute.

As she walked towards the stage, she listened to the singing coming from the theater. Her eyes brightened as she thought of the new opera. Jean had told her that it wouldn't be as an elaborate production as Aida since it only had two acts. But he had said that it would be quite different than the previous one.

"Come to at least one rehearsal," he had said. "It has a completely different mood than a grand opera. I want you to tell me what you think of my designs!"

Smiling, Jade turned down the last corridor as she thought of Jean. He was a fine artist. She would be delighted with anything he created.

The singing stopped, and a male voice shouted out orders. Arriving at the back stage area, she moved closer to the rehearsing singers, and peered over the shoulders of some of the cast. Two of the principals were moving across the stage under the instructions of the music director.

When the singers exited, she strolled across the expanse, and scanned the front rows of the auditorium. She had never met M. Bellet. In the last week, he had been in and out of the office several times while she was dealing with deliveries. However, she had a detailed description of him from Mme. Truffaut.

Glancing about, she found the lone man who was sitting in the empty auditorium.

As her gaze fixed on his face, Jade froze. Suddenly, her knees gave out, and her head hit the floor as she lost consciousness.

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Jean had been working on the set when he heard the commotion. He walked up to the group huddled on the stage, and overheard their conversation.

"Who is she?" asked one man.

"She's the one who works in the offices, and the stable," replied another. You've seen her, haven't you? She rides the horses astride, and wears breeches."

"You mean the stable whore?" sneered a tall man.

At the word 'stable', Jean rushed forward, and roughly pushed the tall man aside. Bending over Jade, he put his hand to her forehead, and looked keenly at her. Then he turned to one of the men, and barked out, "She's fainted. Help me get her off the stage."

They carried her to a nearby empty room with a divan where they laid her down.

Rubbing her hands vigorously, Jean sat beside her until her eyelids fluttered open.

Jade stared blankly at the ceiling for a minute before she turned her eyes to him.

"What happened?" she asked groggily.

"You fainted," Jean replied softly as he continued to hold her hand.

"No, don't get up yet," he said, as he put weight on her shoulders to prevent her from rising. She immediately settled back, and lay listlessly for several minutes. Then slowly, he helped her sit up.

Staring past him, she finally shook her head to clear it, and then carefully rose to her feet.

Jean held her arm, and helped her to her room. Once there, he made sure that she laid down. "I'll check on you before supper," he said as he turned to leave.

"No, Jean. That won't be necessary. I'm not going to supper tonight."

Spinning on his heel, he stared hard at her. "Maybe the reason that you fainted is that you skip too many meals," he said sternly.

She gave him a weary look and replied, "I'll be eating tonight. I've arranged to dine with a friend."

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After Jean left, she rested for a half hour, and changed into her stable clothes. With a taut stride, Jade walked through the back passages to the stable. Her nerves were on edge. A good ride would soothe her. As she continued through the dim corridor, she accidentally kicked a soft object, which let out a high-pitched squeak. After jumping a foot into the air, she landed on her feet, and then wiped the sweat off her brow. The rat was nowhere in sight.

The chestnut gelding looked calmly at her as she entered his stall. Gently she slipped the bridle on, and led him outside. Wednesday night's snow had melted but it could easily snow again. The dull, gray sky had drained the color from the landscape, and left an empty shell behind.

Moving into a relaxed trot, the chestnut carried her down the path and away from the opera house. The comfortable rhythm of the horse helped scale back her tension. After a mile, she allowed her mind to wander back to the auditorium.

The music director, M. Francois Bellet, bore a remarkable resemblance to Jean-Luc. He could be his twin! she mulled with astonishment.

"Older, yes," she muttered to herself. Broader in the shoulders, a few inches taller, but the face…

Suddenly, the path ahead began to fade. Pulling up the horse, she slipped off, and sank to the ground. Taking deep breaths, she fought off the hazy cloud that threatened to overwhelm her.

When her senses cleared, she stretched out on the damp lawn and meditated. How is it possible? she thought nervously. Jean-Luc was an only child like herself. And even if there had been a cousin that strongly resembled him, that man wouldn't be a well to do music director.

"He's gone," she said hollowly to the horse that was grazing. Jean-Luc had left her a long time ago.

It's a fluke, she thought. It's nothing more than a strange coincidence.

But her heart told her otherwise. Not by chance, it said to her. A sign, it rumbled.

A sign of what? she pondered.

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Later in her room, she sat by the wall mirror as she dozed. There was a loud crash against the door, which abruptly woke her. Laughter followed, and the voices trailed away down the hall.

Sighing, Jade got up and slipped her skirt on. Her earlier agitation had settled into a mildly depressed mood. If she'd had her way, she would have stayed in her room tonight, alone. The whole experience of seeing a Jean-Luc twin had unnerved her, and she needed time to recover.

Placing her cloak around her shoulders, she turned off the gaslight, and walked in the direction of the storeroom.

He didn't come for me Wednesday night like he said he would, she mulled. Why don't I bow out tonight? We could do this at another time.

But when she had last seen him, Erik had had a tender, excited look in his eyes. He was looking forward to seeing her again, and she didn't have the heart to disappoint him.

The storeroom was empty, so she lit the lantern and waited. Nothing had changed since her last time there. It was the same old, dusty room full of discards. A perfect place for a secret passage, she mused. But then, the opera house was probably riddled with doors that led to passages. Perhaps tonight she could ask him how it was that he knew of these places. Had he had a hand in designing them?

There was a faint, grating sound, and then Erik stood before her.

She studied him as he silently looked down at her. Something was off tonight, but she had no idea what. As she followed him into the passages, she watched the swaying of his cape, and waited for a clue. His normally faultless posture and smooth movements were slightly different.

Once in the hidden passage, he bound her eyes with a black, silk scarf, and then lifted her into his arms. Instead of holding his left arm around her back as he usually did, he shifted her around, and used his left arm to support her knees. Then they proceeded down the passageway.

When they were inside his home, she gave him her cloak, then keenly watched him as he walked away. As he returned, she took in a deep breath, as she gathered her courage.

"Erik, what has happened to you?" she queried.

He paused, and stared down at her with an inscrutable look.

Jade stepped closer, and tentatively put her hand on his left shoulder. "Are you in pain?" she asked quietly.

Shrugging, he moved away and her hand fell off. He went to the kitchen, and returned with wine and glasses. As he offered her the wine, she looked steadily into his eyes. He silently held her gaze as he sat next to her on the couch.

"It is nothing, Jade," he murmured, and turned to his wine.

They sipped the wine for a few minutes, and then she began again.

"If you are injured, Erik, I might be able to help you. Please let me try," she said. Reaching over, she placed her hand on his forearm, and looked intently into his eyes.

Erik stared back at her, fascinated by her relentless concern. Then the expression drained from his face as he coolly withdrew. He removed his coat and waistcoat, and turned to her.

The elegant, charming man that she had come to know in her last two visits vanished. In front of her was an unknown force surrounded by murky waters. She said a little prayer to steady her nerves. Then Jade grasped his shirt, and slowly lifted it.

Discolored skin met her gaze. Raising the shirt further, she examined the damage. She looked into his smoldering eyes, and asked calmly, "Would you please remove your shirt?"

He stared at her for a long moment, and then took it off.

His chest was smooth, hairless, and well muscled. In the candlelight, his pale skin had a soft sheen. A multicolored bruise covered his far left side and arm, and extended below the pants line. It probably goes into the hip and leg area as well, she reasoned.

Suddenly, Jade got to her feet, and quickly left the room. Moments later, she returned with her arms full of bed linens, which she spread onto the divan. Turning to her bare-chested companion, she said, "Please come over here, and lie down."

Erik rose, and slowly walked towards her. Watching the smooth movement of his muscles, Jade was reminded of the grace of a stallion. A sigh of appreciation escaped her. She had seen half naked men before in the fields. Young, beautiful men picking grapes, letting the sun burnish their skin. When she and Jean-Luc would swim, he had always removed his shirt, and she had often admired his fine physique.

But somehow, seeing Erik exposed was different than with the others. She had formed an image in her mind of an untouchable, fiery spirit: the consummate master. To see him as a flesh and blood man was strange. A slight buzzing began in her ears. For a brief moment, she wondered if this might be a dream.

"Please lie on your stomach," she said firmly.

He lay with his head to the side, and his mask pressed against the sheet.

Jade sat beside him on the divan, and looked at his broad back and narrow waist. Erik had a beautiful body. In that first moment, she felt a brief, trembling hesitation to touch him. Simply sitting that close to him provoked a thrilling mix of uneasiness and awe. Still, he needed her.

Slowly, she reached down, and rested her hands on his shoulders.

His skin was warm, and silky, which was surprising. After looking at his sculpted muscles, she had crazily assumed that they would have the cool rigidity of a Greek statue. Brushing her notions aside, she focused on her task. Her long fingers moved confidently across his unbruised skin as she searched for tight muscles. She had often done this with the horses when they were injured, but only once before with a man. Smiling slightly, she remembered Brother Gregory's soft flesh as he had instructed her on how to treat muscle spasms.

There were tiny valleys between Erik's muscles. His back was a landscape of dips and curves. After a few moments, she became lost in the terrain, and forgot where she was. It was good to touch another's flesh. Jade rested her hands on his shoulders, and followed their rise and fall as she coordinated her breathing with his. Once they were synchronized, she would have a better sense of what he needed.

Gently she probed, and pressed the bands of tendons and ligaments. Gradually, the muscles gave way under her insistent hands. When they were sufficiently relaxed, she ran her fingers sensuously across his skin in long sweeping movements, to call the healing forces of the body to the area.

It was at that point that her ministrations faltered. The warm skin began to tingle and pulse. Then a distinct vibrating sensation leapt from his body to her hands, and shot up her arms. Swiftly she pulled her hands back, and stared at her trembling fingers. Her heart picked up its pace as she dumbly gazed at the man beneath her.

Quickly pulling the blanket from the chair, she spread it across him. Then she stepped backwards until the couch blocked her progress.

Pushing on his forearms, Erik slowly rose. The blanket fell aside, and exposed his chest. She wanted to look away, but couldn't. Instead, she stared at his figure as she felt a stirring in her lower abdomen. A slow, hot tightening had begun in the area surrounding her vagina, and a quivering energy was traveling from there to her throat.

What have I done? she thought as her pulse began to pound. In an effort to help him, she had violated a critical boundary.

He rose, and slowly walked towards her with his chin held high. She followed the small,

sleek movements of his hips, which pulled her eyes to the area of his crotch.

It looked larger than before. There was a firm bulge there.

Swallowing hard, Jade braced herself against the couch. Her knees had suddenly become rubbery. Don't you dare fail me! she wanted to hiss at them. If she were to fall to the floor at this moment, he would take her into his arms and then…

Erik loomed over her. She watched the rise and fall of his chest, and noticed that he was breathing faster than a minute ago. Yet his face was calm, and unreadable.

Slowly, he reached towards her, and then past her as he grasped the shirt that was lying across the back of the couch.

Carelessly he put it back on. She watched his arms stretch above his head as his taut belly tightened further. Then he turned from her, and strolled to the kitchen.

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Erik served them a fine supper of savory stew, and more of the excellent wine that he had an abundance of. The massage seemed to have done him some good. She noticed that his left shoulder had regained its fluid movement, and his posture was back to normal. But there was an additional element that had not been there before, a sort of cat like, predatory air about him. His lingering eyes were more penetrating than usual.

When they were done with their meal, they retired to the couch. Jade had finished the first book by Voltaire, and was now reading another work of his, Candide.

She secretly glanced in his direction a number of times. She still wanted to know what had happened to him. His injuries appeared to be the result of a fall. What had he been up to?

Putting his book down, Erik turned to her. With a raised eyebrow he queried, "Did you have something that you wished to ask me, my dear?"

Caught, she blushed, and then asked, "How did you come to have those injuries?"

Distantly, he replied, "I was visiting a friend. When I left the house, I slipped and fell to the ground."

Jade looked at him in disbelief. He would have had to fall off a balcony to have had that much bruising.

"You doubt me?" Erik asked calmly.

Quickly, she retreated to her book.

A moment later, Erik said, "Fair is fair, my dear. Now I have a question for you."

Turning to him, she waited with a somber expression.

"You have an unusual first name. How is it that you came by it?" he asked smoothly.

The tension left her face, and a distant look entered her eyes. He could almost see rolling hills and vineyards reflected in their depths.

"My mother gave me that name when I was two years old. My christened name is Catherine Therese Bouta. But she told me that she had never felt the name truly suited me. So one day, when I was in her arms, it came to her that my eyes matched the color of those gems. So, she named me after them. And that's what she called me from then on."

They were silent for a few moments. Then, Erik returned to his book.

"Your eyes are the color of the jade that comes from the tropics," he said simply. "It suits you," he added as he gazed at the text.

Silently, she stared at him for a minute, and then slowly returned to her reading.

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Jade turned restlessly in her sleep. The dream had returned: the one in which they were rowing across the lake. Only there was sun, and the water was clear, not dark. Jean-Luc was standing in the boat, and smiling at her as he threatened to jump into the lake. "Tell me you will run away with me next year," he teased, "or I'll jump and you'll never see me again."

Jokingly, Jade rocked the boat a little, and laughed when he jumped feet first into the water. Then she leaned over the boat, and watched as he sank to the bottom with his eyes open, and staring up at her. When he didn't swim out, she called his name, and continued to call to him with increasing volume until the last call was a scream.

She woke up as she screamed. Something was holding her, and binding her arms. Frantically she tried to work them free as she struggled to catch her breath. Then something moved across her head and her cheek, a gentle, rhythmic motion of a hand against her face and hair.

"Be still. You are safe. You have had a bad dream," the voice said to her several times.

Opening her eyes, she saw Erik's face next to hers. Emptying her lungs with a long sigh, she pressed closer to him.

They laid there together as he softly stroked her hair.

When she no longer felt afraid, she pulled away from him, and looked into his eyes.

"I'm fine now, Erik, " she said quietly. "It was only a dream. Thank you. You can go now."

Erik didn't move but continued to gaze into her eyes. Then finally, he spoke.

"My dear Jade, you have called out that name before." Then reaching out, and gathering her to him, he whispered into her hair, "Who is Jean-Luc?"

Jade stiffened in his arms, and then slowly pulled away.

A/N: dear readers, as I finish a chapter, sometimes it feels necessary to leave a certain amount of tension at the end of it so that there will be momentum for the next. Since serial writing doesn't allow you to skip ahead, all I can say is that I'll keep trying to get a chapter to you in a reasonable length of time so that the occasional cliffhanger isn't too annoying.

Thanks again to all of you who leave reviews.