Chapter Nine

The next morning dawned rainy and miserable. Erik wandered down to the library and took tea there, sketching out a preliminary design for Robert's new building. He needed something to distract him this morning. He wanted to go back to the opera, but at the same time, he didn't want to become the "stalker" he had been before. To have Christine so close and not be able to see her every day...hear her voice every day...was torture. But he refused to make the same mistakes he had before. He had come to the decision he needed to confide in Sarah and ask for her help, hence his current spot in the library. And before long, she appeared.

"Good morning, Erik! You're up early: and already working, I see," Sarah said, coming to stand by his table.

"I promised Robert to work on a building design for him. What do you think?" He asked, turning his sketch so she could see it.

Sarah gasped. "It's magnificent! When you mentioned architecture, I don't think I truly realized you meant it so seriously! My God, is there anything you can't do?"

Erik cleared his throat and motioned for her to sit. "Actually, there is. And perhaps you would be willing to help me. I'm not accustomed to asking for help, so you must forgive any faux pas I may make."

Sarah arched one eyebrow and took a seat. "James," she called to a steward standing and polishing some silver at the far end of the room, "can you please bring me a pot of coffee and a scone?"

"Right away, Mrs. Brokaw," he replied, leaving on his errand.

Sarah smiled in encouragement. "I've been told I'm an excellent listener. Please, tell me what I can do."

It was nearly lunch by the time Erik finished his story. He had left very little out. He started his story by telling Sarah of his education in Italy and his dark times in Persia with the Shah. He told her of what he'd seen there and how he couldn't bear it any more. He spoke of how he came to know Paris and of his plan to live out the rest of his days in solitude under the opera. He told her of the sad young girl who had come to the corps de ballet as an orphan and how she prayed every night alone, asking her father to send her the Angel of Music as he'd promised on his deathbed. He told of how he watched her grow into a young woman before his eyes and how suddenly those eyes began to see her beauty and how it created a longing in him to speak to her...to let her know she wasn't alone in her feelings of isolation. He told Sarah how he finally broke his silence, pretending to be that angel and how he began teaching her, never allowing her to see him. He felt her affection deepening but realized their entire relationship was a lie and that, if he ever hoped to win her, he needed to show her he was a man and not an angel.

He told her of how he orchestrated her rise to the lead role in Hannibal and how she had triumphed in it. And then he told her of the Vicomte de Chagny. He spoke truthfully about his terrible jealousy and rage and how he felt betrayed by Christine when she ripped his mask from him and fled in terror: right into the waiting arms of the handsome young man. He told her about Joseph Bouquet and that the drunken man's fall came as he was running from Erik, but that everyone thought he'd killed him. He told her of Christine and Raoul's engagement and how he lost his mind with pain and jealousy and kidnapped Christine. He spoke of how he'd held Raoul ransom for her love and how she had not only agreed to stay with him, she had kissed him. He told Sarah how that act had broken through his jealous rage and that he'd allowed them both to go and how he'd barely existed for nearly two months when Raoul came searching for her.

He finished his story by relating the conversation between Christine and Meg that he had eavesdropped on. "So you see, I feel there is hope, but I do not know how to handle things this time," Erik finished, eyes pleading with Sarah for understanding.

Sarah sat back in her chair and finished the last of her second pot of coffee. She studied the man before her, understanding the shadow that always haunted his eyes. She shook her head. "Oh, Erik. I hardly know what to say. Your entire life has been so tragic and for no real reason. And look at how brilliant and accomplished you are in spite of those experiences. This woman, Christine...it sounds as though neither of you understood what you were feeling or how to act. Both of you are proverbial virgins in the way of love. Both of you acted immaturely through no real faults of your own. But if she left the Vicomte and came here, then that's her first step in learning to be an independent thinker. She recognized what love wasn't. Now she needs to know what love is.

"I'm sure she knows you're here now. I believe Marie went to the cast party last night and I'm positive she spoke of you. Perhaps Christine needs a taste of her own medicine," Sarah posited.

"I don't understand," Erik spoke.

"Make her jealous! The fastest way to a woman's heart is to show her what could have been."

"That would be easier said than done," Erik scoffed. "I would need someone with which to make her jealous."

"I think I have the perfect person for that!" Sarah exclaimed.

"Who would possibly be willing to play a role like that?" Erik asked, unconvinced.

"My sister!"