CHAPTER 2—COUP DE GRÂCE

Erik and Jacqueline had been married for one month when they received their first official invitation to a dinner party at the home of Joseph Martin and his wife, Leslie. Joseph was a general in the French army and had been good friends with Jacqueline's late husband, and it promised to be an enjoyable event with a hodgepodge of military personnel and nobility.

The day before the party, Jacqueline dragged Erik into town to the dress shop that she had owned for seven years. A wealthy businesswoman in her own right, Jacqueline was constantly surprising Erik with her wit and knowledge. Having known her for only four months, there was still a great deal to learn about her.

The bell tinkled as they entered the shop. Behind the counter, Meg Giry, who had been writing in a ledger, looked up and smiled. "I was wondering when you'd get here. We just finished the alterations this morning."

While Meg and Jacqueline disappeared into the back of the shop, Erik looked around. The shop was artfully decorated, reflecting Jacqueline's love of the color blue. The carpet was thick, and a deep, rich blue. Watercolors that he recognized as her own hung on the walls, blue being the central color in them. She had said that her eyes were her favorite part of her. They were the blue of the sky between night and sunrise, dark and deep and lovely. It was set off by her dark hair and tanned skin. Born in the south of France in a small coastal town, she was a Mediterranean beauty in every way, and the perfect woman for Erik to marry, even if it was so that he didn't have to die alone.

Jacqueline chose that moment to appear. She struck an attractive pose. "What do you think?"

Erik nodded. "It's very nice," he said. "Very nice" was an understatement. The gown hugged her curves and enhanced her already lovely features. It was dark green and laced with silver throughout. She would be the envy of every woman in attendance, and Erik would feel proud of her that she had designed herself such a flattering dress.

Seeming to read his thoughts, Jacqueline winked. "Don't worry, I won't run off with some rich count." Turning, she headed back to change. Meg stayed in the front as another girl hurried after her to help her.

"You seem to be getting along just fine." There was a twinkle in Meg's eyes as she surveyed him.

Erik nodded. "Jacqueline's a lovely woman," he said. "Very loyal, and very funny."

"You don't regret marrying her, then?"

"Why would I regret it?" he asked. "I enjoy spending time with her, more so than any other woman I have ever come across." He said this last with a bit of emphasis, cutting off any chance of talking about his past experiences with women.

"Erik, why don't you go help Jacqueline?" Meg asked suddenly. "I'm sure Claire could use an extra set of hands, and I'm sure Jacqueline wouldn't mind."

Erik frowned. "Since when does it take two people to dress a woman?"

"It couldn't hurt," Meg said quickly.

Erik surveyed her for a moment, and saw a strange look on her face. She was looking at him, but at the same time, she wasn't. "What are you—"

The door chimed behind him and he turned to find himself face to face with none other than Raoul de Chagny. He stopped just inside the door, his hand still on the knob, and stared at Erik with something close to shock.

"Vicomte!" Meg's voice was overly bright. "How... nice to see you!"

"Meg." He nodded in her direction, not taking his eyes off of Erik. "Laroche." His eyes scanned over Erik, calculating.

"Changy." Erik was having a difficult time keeping his emotions in, but he forced himself to remember that, if not for Raoul, he could very well be in prison right now.

Slowly, as if he feared attack if he moved too quickly, Raoul entered the shop. "I came to settle my account," he said, still watching Erik.

"Oh." Meg began riffling through the ledger and she smiled nervously. "How are you?"

"I'm well, thank you for asking." He cleared his throat. "Just getting ready for the move."

"Move?" The word popped out of Erik's mouth before he could stop it, and it seemed to surprise Raoul as much as it surprised Erik.

"Yes," he said forcedly. "We're moving to another house in Rouen. An anniversary gift from my parents."

"Ah." The room felt uncomfortably warm, and Erik couldn't help but wonder what was taking Jacqueline so long. "Well. Good luck to you." He supposed he could be civil.

"Thank you." Raoul reached into his breast pocket to remove a wallet. "And to you—I hear congratulations are in order. Jacqueline is a lovely woman—you're quite lucky to have landed her."

"Oh, he didn't land me, I lured him in with my cooking." Jacqueline's voice caressed Erik's ears, never having sounded so welcome. She appeared smiling behind the counter next to Meg. "I hope you haven't been too bored, darling. I got distracted."

Erik raised his unobscured eyebrow. "Distracted?"

"By the muscovite's wife's dress, actually." She smiled disarmingly at Raoul. "It's just the right color for her, Raoul, you'll have to keep an eye on her."

Meg's mouth opened to say something, then she closed it quickly and went back to pouring over the ledger.

"What is it, dear?"

Meg shook her head quickly as she counted Raoul's money. "Nothing."

"And, of course, Meg's dress is lovely, as well. We'll all look so lovely in my gowns!" Jacqueline beamed at Meg's stunned expression. "Meg, my dear, you didn't think you weren't going to be our guest, did you? For heaven's sake! If it weren't for you, I would still be sitting in the back being melancholy. Erik, shall we go to lunch? I'm famished."

He nodded. "We shall arrive at six tomorrow evening to pick you up, Meg." Tipping his hat, he bade the pair of them farewell and left the still shocked Meg and the bemused Raoul in the shop.

As soon as the door closed behind them, Jacqueline dissolved into giggles. "I'm sorry," she said. "I knew he was coming today to pick up his wife's dress, it just slipped my mind. I heard his voice and started lacing up wrong just to get out there and rescue you."

"I, madame, do not need rescuing." Erik stared imposingly, yet teasingly, down at her. "I believe it is you that may need rescuing when Meg sees her dress. She won't leave you alone for the thanks."

Jacqueline gave a contented hum as she laced her arm through his. "I quite outdid myself." She yawned widely and rested her head on his arm. "I have to do something about your snoring, darling. It's almost unbearable."

Erik could not stop the booming laugh that escaped his lips. Helping her into their carriage, he kissed her hand extravagantly. "My apologies, my dear. It's the only thing I can think of to block out yours."

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The sound of the orchestra was soothing against Christine's ears, and she felt butterflies in her stomach. She was in love with the gown she had on—it made her feel like she truly belonged here. After hearing Jacqueline Laroche's name, she had wondered if she would be able to meet the dressmaker if she got a gown made by her. She had not met Jacqueline, but she could see how the woman had managed to make a name for herself, as well as enough money to make her ineligible to be a gold digger.

Raoul did not seem to share her excitement. On the contrary, he seemed quite on edge. She supposed it had something to do with the move. Still, every time she had mentioned her desire to meet the new Madame Laroche, he became nervous, seeming anxious and quickly changed the subject.

At the door, Raoul and Christine were announced, and they entered the throng. Immediately, Christine was much more at ease. Leslie Martin was a former dancer who married a soldier who went on to make a fortune. Christine had meet her previously, and gotten along with her, so this dinner was one she had actually looked forward to.

"Christine!" Meg was rushing toward her from a throng of handsome men, looking flushed. "I've been waiting for you!"

"Meg!' Christine beamed at the sight of her best friend. "What are you doing here?"

"Madame Laroche had a dress made for me, and she and her husband brought me!"

"So she is here?"

Meg bit her lip, looking suddenly nervous. "Yes, I suppose she's somewhere with her husband." She glanced at Raoul, who was looking slightly ill. "I'm not sure where, though," she added quickly.

Christine frowned, but at that moment, a woman whose beauty dulled even Meg appeared out of nowhere.

"Meg, you have to try these little tarts they're passing around!" She giggled slightly, nearly tipping her champagne. "Oh, vicomte! I feel like ages have passed since we met!"

Raoul smiled weakly. "Madame Laroche, you look lovely as usual."

Jacqueline Laroche giggled. "This must be your wife. I recognized her dress—I did design it, after all!" She pulled a slightly shocked Christine into a hug and whispered into her ear, "Monsieur Laroche will be upset when he finds out I've gotten into the champagne again!" She giggled again and spun away from Christine.

As she began an animated conversation with Meg, Christine took in her appearance. She was one of the most beautiful women Christine had ever seen. Her dark hair was piled on top of her head in an elaborate configuration of twists and curls, but she was certain that when it came down it would hang to her waist. Her eyes were a deep, pure blue, and her skin was tanned, as if she spent all of her time basking in the sun. She was a bit taller than Christine, but not taller than most of the men in attendance. She was certain that the gown she wore was of her own creation, and it made her look even more beautiful, enhancing her generous curves in a way that was most flattering without being too flashy. Truly, this woman was a master of beauty.

"Christine." She was jerked from her thoughts by Raoul's hand on her arm. "We should greet our hosts." He tugged on her arm in an insistent manner. "Come."

"I want to talk to Meg," she said, unable to help the slight whine that came into her voice. "Just for another minute?" She frowned as the color drained from Raoul's face. "Darling? Are you alright?"

"There you are!" Jacqueline's voice cut into the air. "I was beginning to think you'd left me for Captain Martin's cigar collection!"

"Never, my dear." The deep voice of Monsieur Laroche was distantly familiar to Christine, as if it were something she had once heard often and now never heard. Very slowly, she turned.

Monsieur Laroche's back was to her, and she could not see his face, but Jacqueline quickly decided to remedy this. "You remember Raoul, from the shop? And I believe you know his wife, Christine?"

There was a pause where time seemed to stand still, then Jacqueline's husband turned around. Christine was too shocked to move.

"Chagny." He nodded at Raoul, extending a hand, which Raoul shook, looking sick again. He glanced at Christine. "I see you made it."

Christine was aware that everyone was staring at her, and that even Jacqueline was silent. "I..." She couldn't close her mouth.

"I could use some fresh air!" Jacqueline was suddenly completely sober, and Christine could see something in her eyes. "Christine, why don't you join me? I'm sure the men would love to talk of politics without two wives huffing at every other word, and Meg, I do believe that young man over there is missing your company."

Before Christine could speak, Jacqueline had taken her arm, looped it through Christine's, and was directing her to the veranda.

Cool air hit Christine's face and she realized how dizzy she had become. She felt Jacqueline lead her to a bench and sit her down. She heard her say something to a passing waiter, then the woman's face was just below her own. With nowhere else to look, Christine forced herself to look into a face that she was sure was stern and disdainful.

Instead, Jacqueline's face was gentle and concerned. "Are you alright, dear?"

Christine forced herself to nod. A pair of legs appeared next to her, and then, Jacqueline was handing her a glass of water. "Here. Drink up before you fall down." She smiled kindly.

Christine downed the water in one and handed the glass back to the waiter, who then disappeared. She could feel herself sweating, and Jacqueline's hand brushed hair back from her face. "What is it?"

Unable to speak, Christine shook her head.

Sighing softly, Jacqueline moved to sit next to Christine. "You look like you've seen a ghost. Surely your husband told you we'd married?"

Again, Christine shook her head, but this time, words came easier. "I think he may have gone so far as to tell his sister to have everyone keep it from me."

"That's what I hate about men. They always think they know best. Few of them seem to realize we are fully capable of taking care of ourselves." When Christine looked up, the other woman's smile had turned sad. "I'm very sorry you are upset."

"Is he happy?" She couldn't help but ask.

"I think so. He certainly laughs more now than he did when I met him."

"And you don't hold... anything against him?"

"My dear, I myself am far less than perfect." Jacqueline laughed softly. "My reputation is that of a gold digging, spoiled rich wife. No one seems to notice that I have quite a savings of my own. I don't need a man to survive, but I do enjoy the company."

Finally, a smile crossed Christine's face. "I know how it feels."

"What?"

"To be considered a gold digger."

"You're no gold digger," Jacqueline said bracingly. "You're just a young woman in love. Now I must ask you—are you happy?"

"I am," Christine said softly, knowing how true it was. "I am very happy with Raoul."

"Good." Jacqueline squeezed Christine's hand. "I'm sorry that you are moving. We could have been good friends. Perhaps, though, you'll visit and write."

"I can do that."

"That's settled, then. Now, let's go rescue the men from the sea of awkwardness they have undoubtedly created in our absence."

Despite herself, Christine laughed, finding one more reason to like Erik's new wife.

A/n You may think you know where this is going, but I bet you don't... like I said, the updates will slow down at some point. I just have time off work right now and I need an outlet so I don't bore myself to death. I'm actually really boring, if you can believe that. Leave me love and reviews!