A/N. Eeeeeek! Really sorry to all my readers out there that it's taken so long to get a new chapter up! Yikes! But A, I had no internet connection for the first half of 2007, and B, my muse kind of took an extended leave of absence on me. Anyway, here's a new chapter at long last, and it's got Erik in it! Thanks to everyone who's reviewed my previous chapters. It rocks to hear from you guys! I'm not even going to hazard a guess as to when I'll have more of this story up for you guys, because I'm still having bad writer's block on it. But hopefully it'll be a little sooner this time! Anyway, I hope you guys all had great holidays of whatever variety you celebrate, and happy 2008! And now, on with the story, and please R&R some more!

Chapter 5

Auditions

The day of Jane's audition was bright, sunny and clear. But Jane hardly noticed it as she walked slowly up the grand steps toward the massive front doors of the Opera, in whose auditorium the auditions were to be held. She was terrified. Christine had told her that she had great talent, but the young Vicomptess was the first ever to say so. Jane prayed that she was right, and that she would not embarrass either herself or her kind young Mistress. But more even than her doubts as to her abilities, Jane could not help feeling, as she beheld the grand and opulent building before her, that she had no right to be there. She knew that she did – she had the paper in her hand stating that she was to audition there this day. But the building was magnificent! It truly was a palace. And who was she? She felt the dread that a fallen woman might upon entering a church for the first time in many years. Her sense of being grossly out of place was further heightened, as she entered the grand foyer and made her way to the auditorium proper, by the sight of those who were to audition with her. They were all clearly the sons and daughters of her betters, and their glances let her know it as they passed. She lowered her eyes, and sought her seat as quietly as possible. She began taking steady, deep breaths to calm herself as Christine had taught her to do.

Meanwhile, above her in box 5 on the Grand Tier, Erik scanned the throng below with growing dismay. As he'd feared, they were the usual lot who always auditioned – the over-confident offspring of those who seemed to think that a centuries-old surname and a pile of wealth should automatically make them better at everything to which they set themselves, and that they should be treated accordingly. Normally he didn't even attend the sorry affairs because so many of these whelps would inevitably be admitted to the conservatoire, not withstanding their mediocre to minimal levels of talent, in order that their fathers would continue to make generous donations. He sighed. He understood all too well that the institution's need for the funding was genuine. The state, generous though it was, did not fund the school nearly well enough to provide the kind of training which ought to be found at the most prestigious school of music in France, and one of the most prestigious in Europe. Nevertheless, he wished devoutly that they could afford to be more selective.

He was, however, most interested to hear the audition of the young Englishwoman whom Christine had mentioned in her most recent letter. She had said that the girl had great talent, and Erik did not doubt her judgement. After all, he had taught her himself. He had taught her to know real musicianship, real passion, from the absurd posturing which all too often passed for it. He was particularly intrigued by the fact that, like Christine herself when he had begun her training, this young woman was apparently unaware of her own gift. He wondered how that was possible. In Christine's case, she had been so drained by grief that she had thought herself incapable of producing any more the wondrous talent which she had had while her Father lived. But that did not seem to be the case with this young governess. From what Christine had said, she was quite strong and independent.

He scanned the crowd, and tried to see if he could spot her among the crowd of candidates. To his chagrin, he did so almost immediately. Christine had not been exaggerating when she had said that the girl was plain. No, austere was a more accurate term, for her plainness was obviously deliberate. She wore a plain frock of black tapheta, with a high collar and long sleeves, and no ornamentation save for a little bit of black lace on the collar, sleeves and bodice. And her dark-brown hair was twisted into a severe bun at the nape of her neck. Her attire looked like that of some one in deep mourning, and Erik found himself wondering what her circumstances might be. He got the immediate sense though that this austerity expressed a deep-rooted sense of her place. But her grey eyes reflected a keen intelligence, and Erik found himself struck, as Christine must have been, with the sense that the young governess was capable of far greater things than she knew. Yes, he was most interested to hear her audition. They were beginning with the auditions for the instrumentalists, and Erik knew that Jane would be performing on the piano in this section. He was interested to hear her choice of piece. And when her turn came, he was not disappointed either.

Her choice of piece was quite unusual. Where the other hopefuls had chosen fast, obviously difficult, bravura pieces which showed off their speed, dexterity and co-ordination, she had chosen a piece in complete contrast. True, the middle of the piece was quick, and was indeed even wild and aggressive at its climax. So it did allow the adjudicators to see that she could handle that sort of playing. But that section was very short. The rest of the piece was dominated by a haunting, lyrical melody. She showed some nervousness as she played the brief introduction. But as soon as she began that melody, it was clear that the young governess had become completely absorbed in the music. She played it with her entire heart, soul and spirit. It was mournful – a requiem. He was not familiar with the piece, although in introducing it Jane had stated that it was a composition of that Russian whose music was all the rage. But it was beautiful. Erik had not been that moved by a performance in a very long time. Her performance drew applause, which seemed to surprise the young Englishwoman, and Erik found himself applauding enthusiastically along with the rest of the audience.

As for Jane herself, she had to fight hard not to tremble as she made her way down from the stage after finishing her piece. She had been grateful that the adjudicators had not stopped her in the middle of her piece, or even asked her not to perform at all. So she had been frankly shocked when the house had erupted into applause. She had heard the brilliant and difficult performances of the candidates who'd gone up before her, and she'd feared that her piece was too simple. But the judges had seemed pleased, even, dare she hope, impressed. She squashed that thought immediately. Of course they were not. Who was she to even think that she could impress the likes of these people? She had heard the sniggers as the adjudicator who called her up mispronounced her name, and she'd seen how the manner of the judges chilled as she made her way to the stage. She must not forget that these were her betters. If she were accepted, it would be upon their benevolence. Nothing more, and nothing less. Still, it had gone better than she'd feared it might, although her apprehension returned in full force as she listened to the spectacular performances which followed her own, and saw how beautiful and elegant were the people who gave them.

The vocal auditions were held the next afternoon, and Jane once again found herself having to force herself to take deep breaths to calm herself as she sat down in the grand auditorium. She had recounted the previous day's audition to Christine, and the young Vicomptess had apparently thought that it had gone very well. Jane was glad. She would never wish Christine to have cause to regret her kindness and generosity. Now she clutched the music which she would give to the accompanist as though it were a rosary and she in desperate prayer. She had never sung in front of an audience this large before. Indeed, she'd never sung in front of any audience before other than Christine and the organist who had accompanied her during practice. She took some encouragement from the fact that Christine herself had once sung at the opera and yet she believed that Jane's voice merited this chance. But the young governess could not help but feel as though she were committing a great sin of pride for which she would surely be punished. She fought to keep her hands from shaking as, when her name was called, and mispronounced again, she made her way to the stage and handed her music to the pianist. She prayed silently that, if she had the right to ask it, this audition might go as well as yesterday's had done.

Erik, meanwhile, found himself sagging with relief as the young Englishwoman mounted the stage. If her vocal audition was anything like her piano performance, and Christine had said in her letter that the young governess's talent as a singer easily equalled her talent as a pianist, then she would be a blessed relief from the hideous combination of arrogance and mediocrity to which he had been subjected hitherto. Like the instrumentalists of the previous day, these young people obviously thought a great deal more of their talents than they actually warranted. He frowned, and considered leaving as soon as Jane finished when he thought about the fact that he would be subjected to that odious combination again thereafter. Not all of these candidates were the same as the ones who had performed for the instrumental auditions though, so he decided to stay and endure the remaining performances in case there were further pleasant surprises. With that thought, he settled back to evaluate. And again, he found his expectations far exceeded.

As with her instrumental audition, the young governess had chosen a piece which stood out markedly from those of her fellow candidates. As she had done for her piano piece, rather than choosing a show-piece full of runs and ornamentation as had her competitors, she had selected a quiet and lyrical aria. It was a piece Erik knew well, although he had never thought that he liked it until now. She had chosen "Mon Coeur S'Ouvre A Ta Voie" from Sampson et Delilah by Biset. It was an aria for mezzo-soprano, and it suited the young Englishwoman's voice perfectly. Indeed, Erik realized that what he'd taken for his having formerly disliked the piece itself had in fact been his having disliked every rendition of it that he'd ever heard before now. Where most mezzos sang the piece in full voice, with that hideous, thick vibrato that sounded as though they had a warbling creature stuck in their throats, Jane held back. She sang the piece gently and lightly, like a whisper, crescendoing only as much as necessary to convey the heightened emotion of the refrain. And her voice was pure - dark and rich, with just enough vibrato to make it sound free and flexible but no more. It was like a breath of fresh air. And Erik realized as he listened that, although the young governess was obviously a mezzo, or perhaps even a contralto of rare quality, she could likely also sing well into a soprano's range, although she probably did not know it. He realized that that too had made her choice a wise one. Unlike many of her competitors, she had not selected a piece full of high notes that she was not solidly able to reach. He approved. But best of all, as she had done when she had played her piece for the instrumental auditions, she sang with complete conviction. She clearly knew the meaning of the text, and she sang as though she meant every word. Again, she had clearly been very nervous as she had begun the piece, but had quickly become completely absorbed, enraptured even, in the music and the text. And as had happened on the previous day, her performance, again to her apparent surprise, drew enthusiastic applause. Erik found himself fervently hoping that the young Englishwoman would be accepted, and almost wishing that there was something he could do to ensure it. But he did not have nearly the control over the conservatoire's administration that he'd once held over the opera-company proper. But he seriously considered trying it. The girl had talent – real talent – the kind of talent that he had not heard since Christine had left the opera. But he knew all too well how even talent such as that could be passed over if it's bearer lacked wealth and/or beauty. And unfortunately for her, Jane lacked both. From what Christine had said, she had no means of her own apart from what she earned as a governess. And though she was striking in her stern austerity and was obviously quick and intelligent, she was not conventionally beautiful by any stretch of the imagination, a lack reinforced by her obvious lack of confidence. He hoped that just for once the judges would have the sense to understand what they were being presented with.

Jane kept her eyes down and spoke to no one as she left the opera house. Again, the audition had gone better than she had had any right to hope. She'd once again been permitted to perform, and to complete her entire piece. She had yet again received applause, and even smiles from the judges. But she still knew that her competitors had given far more impressive performances, and were people of far more consequence. She would not allow herself to be proud until she knew whether or not she had been accepted.

The day was sunny and clear as it had been the day before as Jane made her way back to the deChagny house. As she walked, she felt as though a great weight had been lifted from her shoulders. It was done. Whatever happened now, it was done. Now all she had to do was wait. Christine was, as always, enthusiastic and encouraging. When Jane described the day's events to her, the young Vicomptess felt that this audition too had gone very well. Jane would wait and see. She would know soon enough.

It took another six weeks for the letter to finally arrive. And as before, the only indication which the young governess gave of what sort of news it contained was a widening of her keen grey eyes and a slight smile.

"Well?" Christine asked from across the low table where their afternoon tea was set out. "May I see? Truly I don't know how you can be so calm!" And it was true. It was all the young Vicomptess could do not to bounce out of her chair and rudely read the letter over Jane's shoulder.

Jane, however, passed the letter across the table to Christine in silence. Christine took it eagerly and read it, and as she did so she let out a squeal of delight that was almost unladylike.

"Oh Jane that's wonderful! You've been accepted, and with full scholarships!"

"I can scarcely believe it." Jane said in a calm that contained deep awe beneath the surface.