Act I

Man consists of body, mind, and imagination.

His body is faulty,

his mind untrustworthy,

but his imagination has made him remarkable.

– John Masefield

Two years earlier

July, 1879

Anna

"It's always darkest before the dawn." Anna Richardson had heard this saying before, and relished thinking of such metaphors; however, she had never experienced its meaning firsthand. Up to this point in her life, she had been happy and carefree. The things that saddened her most were usually the work of others, a sonnet or a nocturne. Such things were easily escaped, and she could find distractions quickly. However, after twenty-five years, her established way of life had changed drastically. She was leaving all she held dear, and was unnaturally frightened at the unknown that lie ahead of her. She prayed that the saying would prove true in her case, and that this was simply the dark night before the first rays of the sun would bring happiness into her life again.

It wasn´t as if she had never left London before, but in her travels on those occasions, the extent of her travel had been limited, never leaving the island of Great Britain. In addition, she had always been accompanied by her parents. This time, as she traveled to France, she was alone. She felt like she was being sent to the opposite side of the world, exiled from all she loved. Had anyone who saw her known this fact, they might have understood why she looked so nervous. She clutched her belongings as a child might clutch her favorite doll when frightened by a thunderstorm.

Had anyone seen her in another setting, they may have found her quite charming. She was relatively well-dressed, in a slightly bustled dress of a medium rust color. She continuously fiddled with her tight sleeves as she sat on a bench on the steamer taking her to her new place of residence. Her dark blonde hair was pulled back in a knot and she wore a bonnet of a complimentary blue color to her dress. Her agitation was palpable, and she seemed jumpy and distracted. She did not talk to her fellow passengers or even make eye contact, and they had taken to avoiding the nervous-looking young woman for fear she had some disease of the nerves they might catch.

Her appearance aside, she was agitated, nervous, frightened...she felt as if her emotions were running the gamut of negative emotions in a very short time. Her mind sped from question to question, none of which there was an answer. Why should she have to leave the comfort of her life in London? She felt alternating waves of anger and annoyance. Her parents had advertised her services as a governess in another country without her consent, and she had obtained a position. Tears came to her blue eyes as she thought of them. Didn't they know how important they were to her? Of course, she was quickly approaching thirty, but she had not seen an end to her life of comfort for many years to come. Why? Couldn't such a thing have been done earlier? Would she have felt so frightened if they had done so? She felt like an abandoned child whose searches for her parents had come up unsuccessful.

Age definitely had something to do with it. By the standards of polite society, she was approaching old age. But she was not like other girls, a fact of which she was constantly reminded. Her parents understood her manner – she was quiet and far from outgoing. She had far more books than friends. Sending her to Paris would be a new experience, for sure. Perhaps they hoped she would be courted by a young man once she arrived. But however could that happen now? She had not had any suitor recently, and once in Paris, she did not foresee much free time in which to be courted. Who would ever take an interest in her, anyway? She was basically going to be an employee in a rich household, and there was not much of a chance of having a social life as a governess.

She tried to think of what her life had been like before this had happened. She was well-educated for her standing, trained at a private school in English and French, among other subjects. Her family had been relatively well off, thanks to her father's career as an architect, and they thought it important for her to get a fine education. Lately, Anna had sometimes helped out the children in her neighborhood with their schoolwork, putting her education to use. But more often than not she was to herself. She would play the piano, read a book, or accompany her mother when the errands needed to be done. It had been comfortable, no demands made of her. Now…how was the world to change? Would she be able to adapt? Could she handle the homesickness?

Maybe it was best that she go away. She did not fit in with those of her social circle. While intelligent in academic subjects, she knew very little of the things that were important to most of her acquaintances. She had little interest in fashion and had absolutely no talent at flirting. While Anna did not consider herself a particularly attractive individual, her parents saw the inner beauty and that outer beauty she could show with only a little effort. Her hair was a beautiful shade of the dark blonde, but she did very little with it; she had a nice figure but wore clothing not suited to her age and always in muted colors. Her mother had mentioned it before, but chose not to push the subject. Those who mattered would see her true beauty.

Anna thought of her parents' last words to her before she had boarded the ship. Her mother, Emily, had hugged and kissed her, saying, "You're going to see a lot. There is good and bad, just like London. I hope you can see the art and beauty there and learn from it. We love you, darling. Please try to remember that. And you can always write us."

Michael, her father, was unusually quiet. This usually happened before he was to say something immense to his daughter. "This is a great opportunity for you, Anna. You can put all that you've learned to use. Share your knowledge…don't store it away. You have so much to offer…this young girl will have the best English governess there has ever been. Don't you ever forget how important you are to us, love." Her father's kiss fresh on her forehead, she had shed a few tears and boarded the steamer that was to take her to France.

It was with thoughts of her parents' last kindnesses that Anna abandoned her anger towards them. It was a waste of energy to be upset. It wouldn't change any of the present circumstances. She turned her thoughts to Paris. For all her apprehension, this was an exciting trip, wasn't it? France, though wounded by the Franco-Prussian war, was still a place with a history. It had been the center of culture and fashion for the rest of the world for many years. She was lucky to have such an opportunity as this. She was very fortunate. Maybe she could convince herself it would be a good opportunity.

To distract her from her scattered thoughts, Anna took out of her handbag and opened the latest letter she had received from a Madame Giry regarding her employment. The girl she was to educate was named Marie de Chagny, the daughter of nobility, a Vicomte. In Giry's letters of the preceding months, Anna had learned much about the girl, and about Paris. It excited her even more as she re-read the words silently.

Dear Miss Richardson, it had begun,
Your arrival is expected shortly, and we are prepared for your coming. Marie is excited to meet her new teacher and to begin her education. She has interests in many things, and especially those that are exotic or different. England, to her, is exotic, as she has never left France.

Madame Giry went on to speak about the things she would see in Paris and the surrounding countryside. Excitement, a new and welcome feeling, swelled in Anna's chest until she reached the last paragraph. Something about the mysterious tone Madame Giry used made her suspect that there was much she did not know, especially of Marie's guardian. He was not given a name, so he couldn't be the girl's father. Who was this man, and why had he given this woman the responsibility of contacting her when he could have done it himself?

He who has employed me will speak personally with you when you arrive at the Chagny estate. In return for your services, you will be provided room and board, and a monthly allowance. I can clarify any details which are unclear upon your arrival.

Respectfully,

Madame Giry

The voyage across the Channel was over in less time than Anna had expected.

This comforted her enough to compose herself for the arrival. In the port town of Calais, she ate a bit of lunch before finding the carriage that was to take her to Paris.

Whereas her trip across the Channel began with feelings of self-pity, Anna started to pay attention to her surroundings on her carriage ride. At first it was a distracted glance, given as a last attempt to calm herself, but once she reached Paris, the scenery had her complete attention. Her negative thoughts floated away on the light breeze of the early afternoon. This was the start of something new in a truly beautiful place. Perhaps this experience would open up doors of opportunity she never knew existed. She was to live in a place she had never known, with people she had not met before. As she entered the carriage sent for her, she had no idea what her life was going to become, but she was eager for this new part of her life to begin.

Having left from England that morning on a rather cloudy and dismal day, Anna was delighted to see how the weather had turned out. The afternoon was a perfect one, the sky cloudless and blue. The darkness she had anticipated in her mind slowly faded, and she grew more and more optimistic as she traveled. As she traveled from the city to the home of her employer, out in the country, she relished every sight and sound. Paris was busy, with carriages whizzing about and customers haggling with merchants in the streets. Once the carriage entered the country, no such noise fell upon Anna's ears. The country was still and calm. There were fields of wheat that waved in a light breeze, and poppies and other wildflowers dotting the scenery. Small cottages dotted the landscape as well. Only nature broke the silence with the sound of a bird's song every now and then. She was used to the hustle and bustle of the city from living in London her whole life. Now, as she observed the fields of wheat, flowers and scattered trees, she knew she would enjoy the difference.

In contrast to the small cottages she had seen, as they approached the Chagny estate, it looked even more majestic than its name would imply. The mansion itself towered beyond Anna's view from the carriage. The surrounding grounds were elaborately landscaped, with carefully trimmed topiaries and gently blooming flowers and plants. She felt as if she was on the way to one of Queen Victoria's summer homes or a smaller version of Versailles. She did not feel worthy of the pleasure living in such a palace but was enamored with it already.

As she approached, what had once been nervousness quickly turned to excitement. It seemed to take forever to come down the path, and Anna grew impatient. Finally, the carriage came to a stop. The driver opened the door for her and offered his hand as she exited the carriage. He assured her that her belongings would be taken to her room, and bid her good day. At this point, she was busy observing everything around her. As she approached the house she noticed an older woman standing on the front steps with a young girl. She knew immediately who they must be.

The two walked to meet her, and as they approached, Anna smiled. Unlike so many smiles before, it did not feel forced or nervous. Madame Giry introduced herself, afterwards introducing young Marie de Chagny. Madame Giry looked as her name suggested. She was a courteous and elegant middle-aged woman, with a poised manner and a taste for attire which best reflected her grace. And in their conversation, though she said very little, what she did say was eloquent and to the point. Marie was a prettier child than Anna could have imagined. The six-year-old's eyes were deep and brown, framed with thick lashes. Her hair was the same dark color as her eyes. She looked more a doll than a girl; her fine dress of lace added to the effect. She did not speak but to say, "Hello, Miss Richardson."

Anna could see in those sparkling brown eyes that the girl was excited to have someone new in her life, especially a playmate. Anna felt it a pity that the child did not seem to have any playmates her own age, and decided that she would attempt to find girls of Marie's age, through the connections she would make in town or with the servants.

Things were going well, and Miss Richardson hoped to be making a positive first impression. But all of a sudden, as they went towards the house, Anna was distracted. A particular window caught the glance of both Madame Giry and Marie in the same amount of time. The two of them gave the window a long look, as if to acknowledge something or someone behind it. Anna felt the peculiar feeling of being watched while they were outside, but the strange feeling was gone once they entered the house.

Politely, Anna asked for a tour of the house. Madame Giry obliged, but asked if she wouldn't like a cup of tea first. It felt strangely familiar to have tea…maybe Giry thought it would make her feel more at home here. Once she had the cup and saucer in front of her, Anna felt better immediately. Tea always helped her unwind; today, it chased away the stress that had preceded the meeting. She was given a brief history of the house, with passing comments on a piece of art or a decoration on the wall.

When the girl went up to her toy room to get a toy, some of the mystery surrounding Marie's family was eliminated. Madame Giry seemed to read Anna like a book – the curiosity had been eating away from her since she first arrived. "I am sure you have wondered why I contacted you, and not Monsieur de Chagny. Well, Marie's parents passed away several years ago, when Marie was very young. This is Marie's parents' estate. Her father's name was Raoul, the Vicomte de Chagny." Anna nodded. There was a look Giry's eyes that told Anna the next sentence she would say would give her pain. Madame had seemed so far to be a resolute, confident person, but this look convinced Anna she was also a very caring person. "Her mother's was Christine. Christine was like a daughter to me…a ballet dancer and a singer. They were in a horrible accident when Marie was very young…I took Marie to live with me and my daughter until she was older. Then she came to live here, and Monsieur Erik offered to be her guardian."

Sadness at the fate of the girl's parents soon faded as Madame Giry spoke of Marie's guardian. Erik…so that was the name of her employer! The mysterious way Madame Giry was speaking of him spooked Anna. What was his surname? Where was he now? Why hadn't she heard of him before? She knew she shouldn't ask, but the curiosity was beginning to gnaw at her. "I'm sorry, but who is he?"

Giry looked a bit upset. She made her response a quick one. "When the time is right, my child, you will know. Right now, all you need to know is that he is your employer. As we go on our tour, I will show you the stairwell to the third floor but nothing more. The third floor is his domain…you are not to go there unless given permission. Erik is Marie's guardian…he will want to check up on Marie's progress at times, so either I will relay the message to you or he will send you a note. He will not meet you tonight. He is not feeling well. Have patience."

Again, curiosity overtook her. Anna knew she shouldn't ask any more questions, but she could not help herself. "I don't understand…does he leave the house? He just lives up there?"

She could tell by Giry's facial expression that her questions were upsetting her even further, but the woman nodded, seeming to understand the girl's need to question. If she were a governess, she would want to know these details herself. "No, he does not leave the house. Please, do not worry yourself about Monsieur Erik. Marie is your concern, you mustn´t forget that. He will tell you what you need to know when you meet. And I will let you know now that *he* does not tolerate questions on 'sensitive' matters, so it is better not to ask at all. You may ask me, but do not expect an answer. Perhaps he will become comfortable with you in time, but you must not offend him by asking too much at first. You do not want to know his anger, and I am certain that he does not want to feel it." Madame Giry finished her warnings just as the sound of Marie's footsteps became audible, and the girl came down the stairs clutching her favorite doll.

Done with her tea, Anna thanked Madame Giry, who seemed relieved that their talk of Erik had finished. "Might we take our tour now?"

Marie smiled as she approached the two. "May I show her my room?"

Anna tried to push her ever-growing curiosity about Erik to the back of her mind to concentrate on the house. It seemed to go on forever. The home was even more marvelous on the inside than on the outside. Anna had made this presumption from the first step inside, but the tour made it no longer a supposition but an established truth.

The first floor consisted of a large kitchen, a marvelous formal dining room, a spacious parlor, and a library filled with books, Anna's favorite. The rooms were large, well-decorated, and full of light. The servants, nearly undetectable but to the trained eye, kept the place sparkling clean.

Moving on to the second floor, Anna found the room in which she was to stay, explored Marie's bedroom and playroom, and examined the study in which she was to teach. She was very impressed with the decorations, some antique, all lovely and well-placed. Had the house not seemed so well-decorated, the amount of valuable art and antiques could have given Anna the impression she was living in a museum. Her own room was much larger than the one she had at home, and beyond that it was colorful. Marie was suited to her rooms, as they were slightly mature in decoration but still enjoyable and fun. And the study where she was to teach? Anna was pleased with its large windows, bright colors, and supplies enough to last until Marie was twenty, at least. After seeing the first two floors, Anna felt that this was a place in which she could live, if not feel at home just yet.

But then Madame Giry led her to the stairwell to the third floor, located near the study room. Looking up the staircase, Anna noticed how the light and life of the first two floors were not present on the third floor. It was darker, with no sign that anyone lived there. The walls were bare, and no color welcomed her eye. "Remember," Giry said, "you aren't to go up there unless he tells you to do so. Above his floor is an attic for storage, and only the servants go up there on occasion, by another way."

As if to reiterate Giry's words, Anna noticed that a large door of dark wood stood in the way of observing anything else. The lock on the door was intimidating; seeing it as it loomed there in the darkness, she felt no desire to ever go past that door. She would have to, soon enough. It frightened her to think of what laid behind an entrance so imposing and cold. How could he live like that? What type of person could be so secretive? However, she turned from her fear when Marie came to her side and asked her if she would like to play.

The idea of leaving home had seemed so horrible at first, but now that she was here, Anna changed her mind. Yes, as she dressed for bed, she felt the unfamiliar sting of homesickness in her heart, but the day had gone surprisingly well. She was optimistic for the future of her employment. Madame Giry was a kind, honest woman on whom Anna could rely until she felt at home. And Marie…oh, already the girl was making her way into Anna's heart. She was sweet, if somewhat spoiled. That was something they would have to work on.

The girl had gone to bed an hour or so before, exhausted from the excitement the day had brought. Giry and Anna had put the girl in her bed, read her a story, and listened to her say her nightly prayers, which now included her new governess. When she was in her bed, Giry bid Anna goodbye, patting her reassuringly on the shoulder before returning to her home in the city.

Now, as Anna lay in her new bed in her nightgown, she thought of all that had gone on that day. She would meet with her employer at some time in the future, but until then she would begin her lessons and help Marie to become acquainted with letters and numbers… She looked towards the next day with excitement for it brought her a step closer to teaching Marie. She whispered a prayer of thanksgiving for a safe journey, and also prayed she would become comfortable here, finding her purpose in life.

Just as her prayers had ended and sleep was overtaking her, an odd sound met her ear. Piano music, quiet and haunting; a melody she had never heard before. It seemed like a piece by Chopin in difficulty, but was distinctly darker in mood than any nocturne or etude; being an accomplished pianist herself, she found the performer to be quite talented. Too sleepy to find the source of the sound, she leaned back against her pillow and let the song follow her into her dreams. It seemed to come from the room directly above her bedroom. That next week, as she became acquainted with the house schedule, and with the abilities of her young student, the song returned in daydreams. Her mind ran wild with curiosity. Who played that melody? Why was it so sad?

She persevered through the daytime hours well enough, teaching and playing with Marie, who with encouragement from Anna began to call her "Miss Anna" rather than "Miss Richardson." The night, however, was not so easily faced. The optimism of the daytime seemed to slip from her, and all her worries gathered together to plague her. The music made her feel alone and homesick. And yes, she was alone. She only spoke to the other servants, Marie, and occasionally Madame Giry, who visited less often now that Anna was there. And she was of a different background than most she knew at the Chagny estate. The music brought out the sadness in her, the darkness she thought had passed. The few friends she did have in London returned to her mind when she tried to get to sleep each night. She imagined them enjoying themselves with other friends. Had they really been her friends, or had they only pitied her? She had never before appreciated the presence of someone with whom she could talk openly. Her concerns were but her own now.

Especially disheartening was the idea that she would never find someone to love, an idea that had not often come to her before she'd left home. There was always a hope, a chance for her to meet some young man when she was in London. Here, she associated only with women, with the exception of male servants. And though they treated her kindly, they were not what she was looking for in a potential mate. Each night, as these doubts and fears came to her, the piano would play its haunting tune, and her pillow was soon stained with silent tears. The combination of her thoughts and that music was enough to make her tears run dry. She was distraught, wondering why she should feel such feelings, but try as she may, she could not comfort herself. She felt as if she were trapped within the pages of a Gothic novel in which nothing was ever discovered, in limbo, stuck at a standstill, unable to move forward.

It was two weeks after she had arrived that something happened to break the routine Anna had made for herself. Having attended a church service that morning in the city with some of the servants, the maids, her mood had been lifted. Younger than herself, they nonetheless could understand the fears she was feeling at leaving home, as most of them had done a few years before. She felt less lonely when she talked to them.

She had returned to her room that afternoon to change and to the study to straighten up things for the next day's lesson. Things went normally until she went to the study. From the moment she entered, she knew something was different. It took her no more than a few seconds to notice that on the desk she used lay something new. She went over to the desk and saw a note with unfamiliar handwriting on the front lying on top of a book. Anna picked it up, glancing at the book first. Malory's Le Morte D'Artur, an old favorite. This made her curious to the contents of the note, so she opened it, finding an invitation to that mysterious third floor by her equally mysterious employer. She had not seen or heard of him at all since her arrival.

Miss Richardson,

I apologize for the lateness of this communication. You have worked in this house for two weeks, and we have not yet had a formal meeting. It is with that in mind that I write you. If you are not busy tonight, after the evening meal, I would like you to come to my library. This is the first room to the right on the third floor, behind the large door. I am eager to discuss Marie's education with you. You are well on your way to help her achieve great things, and I thank you for your services in advance.

I offer you this work from my private collection as a gift to help you feel more at home. I am sure you have already read it, but I know how the English feel for their beloved Arthur. If Madame Giry hasn't already given you permission, I give you the freedom to read any work from the library downstairs that you fancy. If no one enjoys them, of what use are they?

Most sincerely,

Erik

In the two weeks she had taught Marie, mention of Erik had come every once in a while from the young girl. Anna herself had never asked the girl questions, keeping in mind Madame Giry's cautionary words. In their lessons, Marie would mention how her "Uncle" had once read her such a story, or had attempted to teach her to write her name. While such efforts impressed Anna, she wondered why Erik never dined with them or showed his face to the light of day. Such isolation from the child he had offered to raise hardly seemed the behavior of a caring man. Anna knew it was better to wait for the answer than to ask, as every thing a person does has a reason behind it.

It was with a nervous step that the girl climbed the stairs to the third floor at the appointed time. She had just eaten a fine meal, but her stomach was upset. The strange sensation of being watched when outside with Marie might have had something to do with it. In the time she had been in the house, she often found herself looking at the window the girl had glanced at that first day. At first, she had not seen anything, but now and then she saw a glimpse of a gloved hand or an arm. So it was he that caused Giry and Marie to look at the window. She was going to meet this man. Erik.

She reached the third floor and that large wooden door she had seen when she first came to the Chagny estate. She knocked, not knowing what else to do, and the door creaked open, seemingly without any human hand. "Come in," a deep voice called. Up to this point, Anna was prepared to run downstairs, but the voice intrigued her. Yes, she was afraid, but her curiosity drew her closer to the voice. What did he look like? Who was he? Giry had spoken of his anger, but she would try her best to avoid saying too much.

As she entered, the expectations she had held of the third floor study were exceeded; it was darker and more dramatic than she had imagined. As she walked in, the room's dark colors pulled her eyes from one corner to another. Black, scarlet, a hint of gold on a candlestick, they all contrasted with the lighter colors of the rest of the house. She was drawn to sit in a pool of light made by the candles, in front of a large, ornate desk of a dark, fine wood. "Welcome," the same voice that had told her to enter was speaking to her now.

As she sat, she noticed as a tall, shadowy figure near the piano approaching the desk. He had blended in so well in the room that she had taken no notice of him. Her employer was a slender man, dressed in black trousers and a collared white shirt. His hair was black, too, helping him blend into the dim light. As he sat in a chair quite far from her, he showed only the right side of his face, sitting almost facing away from her as he spoke to her. Beams of candlelight illuminated the side of his body facing her, while the other was in shadow. He did, however, glance at her now and again. She was struck by the paleness of his skin and how it contrasted to the darkness of the room, his hair, and the surroundings. However, at her first glance of him she squeaked out a quiet, "Thank you," unable to make any other sound. Her fear had eased, replaced by shock that this floor could so differ from the others…and this man, with a voice was so deep and quiet. She was usually nervous when she met new people; with Erik it was worse than usual, since he was so important to her position here yet so mysterious. It was possible for them to converse in French, but they spoke in English. Anna guessed it was another attempt to put her at ease. Whether the attempt would work, she was not so sure. She tried to disguise her nervousness.

"I take it your accommodations are comfortable?" he asked, glancing at her.

"Yes, they are, thank you for asking," she replied, noticing how pensive he seemed. He was not thinking about what he was talking to her, but something else. However, he focused after he looked away from her.

"Oh no, the thanks are mine, Miss Richardson. I am glad you came tonight, I apologize that I have not contacted you before this." She made no verbal reply, but nodded. She wished he would look at he, but could endure conversation exchanged in this way, as she had no choice. He continued, "Now, then, I'm sure I can speak simply about what I expect from you in regard to Marie. You are to educate her as one who will become a lady. That is my intention…she is to be a gentlewoman, as her parents would have wanted. Madame Giry gave me the qualifications she was sent. You're trained in English and French?"

"Yes, sir, those are my strong points. I am also prepared to teach Marie history, art, and mathematics, when she is ready. Literature, also, is one of my favorite subjects."

"Very good." She knew by the way he said these words that such a compliment wasnot an everyday occurrence. "You are to start out with the basics, of course.

Marie is already quite a reader, but knows only the French which Madame Giry has spoken to her, and some that is necessary for ballet. Also, Marie has not had much training in the way of arithmetic. She is a bright girl, I am sure you will have no trouble with her."

"Ah…" Something he had just said interested her…the ballet. Anna thought the little girl looked like such a dancer. "Madame Giry teaches her ballet?"

He looked at her with interest, surprised to hear her speak to him. "Yes, she does. She will not make a career of it, but it is important she know a bit of it. It's in her blood." He seemed pleased that she had overcome the fear of the room, and of him, to be able to ask such a question, but it was very hard to detect whether it was pleasure or sarcasm that was on his face. Given only half a face and one blue eye, Anna was not sure. She hoped he was not mocking her.

"I will be checking in on her progress every two weeks, so you shall be prepared to tell me how far she is in her subjects and with what she is struggling." By now, Anna had perfected the art of nodding quietly, demonstrating her understanding. He went on to ask her where they had begun in the past two weeks, and he seemed pleased. "Oh, yes…before you go. I need you to know…when summer is over, Marie will start music lessons with me. Two to three times a week, at a time to which I will alert you. I think she is ready to learn...she has always enjoyed it before when I have played for her."

Anna thought of the piano music she heard at night. "You play the piano?" She thought she almost saw a smile on his face as he nodded.

"And compose…though not much anymore. I'm much better on the organ, but to bring such an instrument into this house is out of the question." He gave her a fleeting look and Anna could see he was intrigued by her question. "And you? Do you have any musical experience?"

She felt a bit ashamed for having asked him if he played…of course he did, he had a piano…it wasn't simply for looks. "Yes…a little." He seemed to want more information, so she went on. "My mother taught me the piano, and I used to sing in the church choir."

"Well, that is something. Are you a soprano?"

There was a hesitation in her voice. "…I'm more of a mezzo-soprano." She thought of the sopranos she had known. Some believed their excellent vocal range demanded the treatment of a queen…

"I consider that much of musical talent is a matter of training. It is my personal opinion that with the right teacher, most voices can be trained to do extraordinary things." Though Anna sensed he could have continued talking about music, he seemed to refocus on the matter at hand – this young woman's employment. She didn't come here to hear him talk about music. "Now then. Madame Giry has, I'm sure, prepared you for your position as best as she could…she has put you in contact with those persons whom you may use as resources. I hope, if you have a question which none of these can answer, you feel that you can come to me."

Anna, as she listened, felt a strange feeling of déjà vu from when she spoke with Madame Giry at Erik's exact wording of his next statement, said in a tone not as kind as before. "However, I do not approve of being asked questions about sensitive matters. You will know all that is necessary for your position, be sure of that."

In looking away from her, he glanced at the clock on the wall. "I'm keeping you…my apologies. You can go."

"Good night, sir." She stood, and slowly made her way to the door. She thought of the note and the book he had sent and, right as she approached the door to leave, spoke. "Sir?" She turned, noticing he had turned toward the sound of her voice. His left side, of course. She would have to adapt to that aspect of her employment.

"Yes, Miss Richardson?"

"Thank you for the book. I am enjoying Malory very much."

"I thought you would." His voice seemed more relaxed all of a sudden. "Marie's parents…the library downstairs…there is much I had never read before I arrived here. I hope you are able to enjoy it as much as I do."

"I will try. Good night, then, sir."

"To you as well."

As she returned to the safety of the second floor, Anna felt relieved. The meeting hadn't been that bad, really. Other than the fact that he had hardly glanced at her, he did not seem like a totally terrible employer. She was sure now that he was the source of the haunting piano music at night. When music was mentioned, he spoke with more vigor and excitement. It was as if music were a renewing force for him, something as important as the blood flowing through his veins.

Other than the talk of music, she knew no more of him than she had before. How old was he? He seemed like he was in his late thirties or early forties…she was a good judge of age, a skill developed by being part of a social circle in which a person's age seemed to be an important detail to know. He dressed more formally than those she knew…maybe that came with living near Paris? But he never went out. It was now that fact that troubled her and drove her crazy with curiosity rather than Erik himself.