Chapter Five

Erik's invitation to a small social gathering arrived two days later. Overcoming extreme trepidation, he entered the private dining room on the first floor next to the music parlor where he'd first met Mrs. Brokaw. As was his habit, he entered silently and stayed to the shadows as much as he could, but within a few moments the hostess had spotted him and skillfully steered her husband away from the gentlemen he was speaking to and brought him to Erik.

"Monsieur Leroux! I'm so pleased you came! May I introduce you to my husband, Robert," Sarah exclaimed, smiling and holding her hand out to Erik.

As before, he awkwardly brushed his lips to her hand and then turned to her husband. There were heavy scars on the man's neck and Erik covered his surprise quickly by extending his hand to the man in front of him.

"Monsieur Leroux, it's indeed a pleasure to meet you. My wife has not stopped talking about your skills as a musician in these last two days. I must confess, I am a tad jealous," the gentleman smiled warmly as he firmly shook hands.

Erik rediscovered his voice at that. "The pleasure is mine, Sir, I assure you. Your wife is too kind in her accolades of my talent."

"I was not!" Sarah huffed indignantly. "I certainly hope you will vouch for my word with a small sample of your ability later, Monsieur."

Erik deferentially bowed his head. "Madame, I would not impugn your integrity. Perhaps after cocktails I can oblige."

Robert laughed as Sarah shot him and "I told you so" look. "Please, let's not stand on formalities any more. Call me Robert."

"And I, Sarah!"

For the first time in a long time, Erik allowed the smallest of smiles. "Thank you. And of course, call me Erik."

Robert nodded and then motioned towards the small group of men speaking together a few steps away. "Come. Let me introduce you to the others."

When asked what he did, Erik was ready with, "I'm a scholar and musician, but an architect and inventor by trade."

"Ah, excellent! What have you designed?" One of the gentleman asked.

Erik cleared his throat. "Well, I spent a deal of time in Persia designing part of the Shah's playground. I also worked on a good deal of the design for the Paris Opera House."

"The opera, you say?" Robert asked and made eye contact with his wife, who came to his side with two of the other wives. They came to stand by their husbands and Robert cleared his throat. "Erik, we'd like to talk to you about that."

Erik's heart nearly stopped. Had they heard the rumors across the ocean? Were they about to lynch him? He looked quickly at the only exit available and felt his muscles tense in anticipation.

"Erik," Sarah began. "I know that New York may seem worlds away from Paris, but we have just opened our new Metropolitan Opera House. I must admit to being a little duplicitous in inviting you here tonight." Here, she looked a little sheepish. "You see, this group of friends all have a special interest in common: our love for opera. We're all patrons of the opera and were hoping that, perhaps, you might be interested in helping us by becoming one as well."

Erik blinked and opened, then shut his mouth. Not only was this the opposite of what he was expecting, it was his way to finding out if he was right and Christine was here. "Yes. Yes! Absolutely!"

"Fabulous!" One of the other wives gushed. "They're rehearsing for a production of Faust and the managers promised us a small preview tomorrow. I hear the leading soprano is wonderful.

Erik's throat tightened. "Do you know her name?"

The group looked amongst themselves and Sarah finally shook her head. "I'm sorry. They just cast the opera about two weeks ago and many of us have been out of the city this summer so far. You'll have to forgive us. We're generally far more 'in the know' than this."

The evening passed quickly and at the end of the small gathering, Erik obliged them with a piece of his own composing. The women were moved to tears and even the most stoic of the men had to clear his throat afterwards. As they exchanged good-nights, Erik found himself alone with the Brokaws.

"Sarah has told me about your musical talent, but I had no idea how much of a genius you truly are. I imagine you are grateful that your hands weren't injured as well," Robert spoke.

Erik frowned slightly. "My hands?"

"I'm sorry. I simply assumed you were injured in some way," Robert corrected. "You see, I was injured at one of my factories." Here, Robert unfastened his collar and held it from his neck.

Erik had seen the heavy scarring on his chin and neck when they were first introduced, but now that he could see even more, he realized just how badly Robert had been injured. "How did it happen?" he asked.

Sarah looped her arm through her husband's and Erik saw nothing but complete love in her eyes as she leant him her support.

"In my younger years, I was a bit reckless," Robert began. "I'm in the steel industry because I worked in it from the ground up. I was going too fast and tripped. Fell right against one of the smelting pots. It was only for a second, but the damage was done. My scars go all the way down to my waist."

Erik pictured the incident and was amazed Robert was still alive to speak of it. "Your recovery must have been excruciating."

"Oh, it was! But I had such an amazing nurse. I was lucky in many ways: most especially since she took pity on me and agreed to marry me," he joked. "But I'm sorry again. It was wrong of me to assume regarding your trouble."

Erik found for the first time in his life that he wasn't angry about discussing himself. "I was born with my disfigurement. While it wasn't painful physically, my mother made it quite emotionally scarring. She cast me away when I was only five."

Sarah gasped and Robert covered her hand with his.

"It was for the best. I traveled with a gypsy caravan for quite a while until I was old enough to strike out on my own. I found ways of educating myself enough to be taken under the wings of some of the finest designers Italy has to offer and made my way from there." Here, Erik looked up and somewhat smiled self-deprecatingly. "Alas, no beautiful nurse for me."

Robert nodded in sympathy and handed him another brandy. "Well, Erik...I can only imagine what you've been through. I can promise, though, that our circle of friends will not judge you by that story. Hell, they put up with me!" He raised his glass to Erik's and said, "To a fresh start in a new country!"

"And to a new patron of the arts!" Sarah added.

The next morning, Erik was nearly beside himself with anticipation. He had not slept well the night before. He kept mulling over the acceptance of this circle of people, trying to look for any sign of duplicity. But in his constant reviewing of their actions and reactions to him, he could see nothing but a shared artistic love. Now...now...he was so close to seeing if he had been right about where Christine had gone. He paced his chamber from end to end like a pent-up tiger. He had been unable to eat and had hardly touched his tea. Every few moments he looked at the clock on the mantel and then at his pocket watch. Then he would stop in front of the full-length mirror and adjust the cuffs of his shirt and pick a miniscule piece of lint off of his jacket sleeve. He was in the midst of his fifth round of pacing when there was a knock at his door. Taking a breath to calm himself, he walked to the door and opened it.

"Erik! Good morning," Sarah greeted him. "I hope this isn't too early."

"No. Not at all. I'm eager to see this opera house."

"I hope you don't mind coming with the women," Sarah apologized. "The men generally leave us with the particulars of spending their money on the arts." Here she laughed.

"Not at all. It's a new position for me to be in. Generally, women avoid me." Erik again allowed a small smile to show.

Sarah reached out and took his arm. "Well, my dear Monsieur Leroux, this particular group of women have been swept away by your music. They are all bemoaning the fact that they are married."

Erik couldn't help but scoff. "You are too kind, Madame."

"It's Sarah, remember? You must call me by my first name. The others will be spectacularly jealous!" She laughed musically.

"Sarah," he agreed.

They walked to the opera house from the club and met the other ladies there. They were already speaking with one of the managers who greeted the two as they arrived

"Mr. Leroux? Welcome to the New York Metropolitan Opera," the thin man said, offering his hand. "I'm Henry Abbey, one of the general managers here. It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance."

Erik shook the man's hand and nodded. "I think we're all looking forward to a small preview of your performance."

"Absolutely! Our soprano, Marie, is simply wonderful. We'll take a quick tour for your benefit and peek in on rehearsal after. They should be on Act III then."

Erik struggled to contain his disappointment. Christine was not the lead soprano. Perhaps she wasn't even here. Had he traveled this far for nothing?

"Shall we proceed?" The manager asked, motioning for the women to precede him through the doors.

Erik barely heard Mr. Abbey's tour even though it was mostly for his benefit. The knot in his chest, coupled with the fog his thoughts were in prevented him from really comprehending anything that was happening as they walked through the theater. It was the thought that by hedging his bets and believing he was correct, he'd lost every opportunity to find her...his Christine. Even if he went back to Paris, her trail was undoubtedly cold. He'd lost her forever.

The tour returned to the theater itself and the small group sat in the middle of the theater as the music director conferred with the manager. Sarah found herself on Erik's left side and touched his arm. "Erik, are you alright?"

He took a deep breath, forcing himself to focus on the here and now. "I'm a little distracted. I apologize."

Sarah frowned. She felt there was more, but she also knew he was an intensely private man. At any rate, she had lost her chance to pursue the issue further as the piano accompanist began and the lead soprano took her place on stage.

As the woman sang Marguerite's aria, Erik was pleased with her talent but found the choice of musical piece ironic and, perhaps, somewhat prophetic. She sang about the King of Thule who remained true to the memory of his love until the day he died. Erik felt, listening to the words and to the lovely melody, that here was his future. He was likely never going to see Christine again, but he would never be able to remove her from his mind...his heart...his soul.

The performance ended and the small audience applauded. Mr. Abbey stood up and led the group to a side door in order to exit the auditorium. As Erik waited for the women to exit in front of him, he heard the director call for a break for the cast. Cast and crew began leaving the stage area and Erik once again felt a tiny blossom of hope as he scanned the many faces: to no avail. He followed Sarah out the door and into the hallway as he heard the director call the understudies for rehearsal.

"Oh!" Sarah exclaimed as she tripped on the hem of her dress and Erik reached out to steady her. "I'm such a mess," she sighed exasperatedly and motioned that she was fine. She shrugged her shoulders helplessly and started to continue down the hall, but Erik had stopped moving and his eyes had gone wide. The gasp that escaped from him drew Sarah's attention back and she turned to watch him abruptly turn back to the door. Concerned by his odd behavior, Sarah went back to where he was standing to find him staring at the young woman on stage currently singing.

It was her! He knew it from the very first note that had floated to his ears. He didn't even remember moving to the door, but here he was and there she was, glorious in both music and appearance. He drank in every note and let his eyes feast themselves on her after being starved for months.

Sarah saw everything; his face, his stance, his hands clenching and unclenching...and she looked at the woman on stage and immediately knew he loved her...adored her...desired her. And she swore to herself she would discover this story.

He didn't want to leave. If he could freeze time right at this moment, he could be happy for the rest of eternity. He hadn't realized just how much of his soul had been ripped away the night he'd allowed her to leave him. He had been so deep in despair and for so long that now that he had that part back, he realized he'd been little more than a walking corpse. Now...now he was alive. And he wanted to stay that way. He came to realize Sarah had laid her hand on his arm and he finally managed to refocus himself and look at her. She said nothing but Erik saw understanding in her eyes. And that meant more to him than any words ever could. She gently pulled him away to follow where the others had gone, never removing her hand from his arm and not saying a word.