Hey there everyone. Surprise I actually got you this next chapter relatively on time! Hurray!
I don't really have all that much to say other than to give another huge thank you to my new beta Terpsichore314. She is doing a great job so far and deserves a great big pat on the back. Hurray for her!
And as usual a big thanks to all of my reviewers. I love hearing from you guys! Hope everyone enjoys this next chapter. Oh and P.S. I went and saw the new Pride and Prejudice movie last weekend and I have to say it was great. So if you are a Jane Austin fan or just like a good romance you totally have to go see it.
Chapter 41: Confrontation
"If you move one blessed inch I will split your skull open like an overripe melon," Brielle hissed into the darkness, her French wavering slightly as she struggled to control the tone of her voice.
The man squatting on the floor toppled over backward at the sound of her voice, his arms flailing out behind him in an attempt to catch himself. Startled by the sudden movement, Brielle let out a high-pitched shriek as she shuffled backward quickly to get out of the way. Catching a fold of her long skirt with her heel, the Irish woman tripped over her own clothing and went crashing to the floor, the mop handle dropping out of her grip only to clatter loudly against the floorboards a few feet away. Sitting up quickly, she watched the mystery man flounder about upon the floor barely a foot away from her, hopelessly ensnarled in his cape, before snapping out of her daze. Lunging to the side Brielle grabbed hold of her wayward weapon and used it to give her enough leverage to climb quickly to her feet.
Righting himself almost at the same time, cursing all the way, the cloaked figure turned with a jerk and quickly surveyed Brielle as she took a tiny step back from him. The deep cowl hung low over his head casting his entire face in shadow except for the very tip of his strong chin. One of the man's eyes glittered a shocking blue from under the folds of the deep black hood, as he took in her brandished weapon shaking in her sweaty hands. He did not appear in the least concerned by her not-so-threatening appearance nor did his earlier clumsiness now affect his carefully measured movements.
Without a word the dark figure stood, all the while focused intently on Brielle's face. She could feel his gaze like a fevered touch across her cheek, and could sense the danger in his eyes though she could not see his face. As the man straightened fully, Brielle felt her mouth drop open in dismay, for the dark figure she had so flippantly threatened to bash over the head was much larger than she had anticipated. Staring up into the black hood of the man's cloak, where his face must have been, Brielle searched for any recognizable features, finding nothing but shadows and those piercing, shining eyes.
Clenching her fingers more tightly about the modest mop handle in her hands, her only means of protection, the Irish woman took another hasty step back. The Devil himself could not have frightened her more at that moment than that dark faceless shadow. "I told you to remain where you were," Brielle intoned menacingly, though she felt far from the fierce thing she was portraying.
The man took a deep breath just then, almost as if he were sighing over her insolence. The whispery sound of the air issuing from that cavernous space under the hood created an altogether sinister effect. "Did I offend you in some way, Madame, that you threaten me so?" a soft, rough voice inquired politely, the gentlemanly reply completely at odds with the man's devilish appearance. His pleasantries only served to further accentuate the harshness of his tone.
Brielle opened her mouth to shoot out a reply but her words lodged in her throat, preventing her from speaking. For the briefest of moments the stranger's voice seemed strangely familiar to the Irish woman. Through the coarse, uneven quality of his tone she thought she heard a hint of something recognizable. And suddenly Brielle was inundated by wave after wave of the feeling that somehow she knew this man. All of his individual features were carefully shadowed, but she could make out his silhouette, and the proud way he held his shoulders; both of which made the bells in the back of her head begin to toll. Do I know him? I can't know him.
Lowering the tip of her mop handle, Brielle felt her brow furrow in confusion as she tried to figure out why she should feel this odd sense of déjà vu. "What is your business at the Opera? You are not dressed like a stagehand. We do not look kindly on strangers wandering about after hours."
There was a long silence following her questions as the man turned his head and momentarily gazed off to the right. He shifted his weight slightly before turning his attention back to Brielle. "Why should I be inclined to answer the questions of a common cleaning lady?" the man shot back, the correctness of his words overshadowed by the temper in his tone.
With a dismissive gesture the mystery man turned from Brielle and took a step to the right, moving to walk off down the hallway, obviously very eager to be free of her presence. Pursing her lips, the Irish woman felt a ball of fury well up within her. She had yet to become numb to the degrading way most people chose to treat her here. Her hackles rising instinctively, Brielle took a step forward and brought her mop handle up to jab the man in the chest, impeding his exit.
"You speak too well to be a workman here, sir. But no highborn patron would set up a tryst at the Opera at this late hour. Most of them have hotel rooms to entertain their mistresses. It does not take long to learn the ins and outs of the rules of discretion around here," she stated coolly, finding herself strangely refreshed by the searing hot anger coursing through her blood. It felt good to be able to openly express her temper again.
"Why are you boring me with this useless nonsense?"
"My point, sir, is that since you do not display the normal characteristics of the local highborn society, then most likely you are just as common as I am," When the cloaked figure stepped away from her broom and attempted to beat a hasty retreat in the opposite direction, the Irish woman followed him. The man growled under his breath but Brielle held her ground in the face of this stranger's growing irritation. Hounding the dark figure with the tenacity of a bull dog she stepped directly into his path for the third time.
"I am not finished! I was going to say that since you are just as common as I am, I will have no qualms whatsoever in turning you in to the police should you continue to frighten the staff on a nightly basis! The joke is wearing thin now. You have obviously had your fun; now it is time to move on. Surely you have some job within the Opera to keep you busy enough to leave everyone else alone."
Stilling, the man lowered his head defensively, the slope of his shoulders changing as the tension within his body began to build. "I don't have the slightest idea as to what you are talking about."
"No? You haven't heard of the ghost around here? And the tricks he plays on people?"
"No."
"So then you couldn't possibly have seen someone else sneaking around in the dark in this area? Because apparently the ghost just recently dumped a pile of old costumes on top of a couple of chorus girls."
"Absolutely not."
Brielle sucked in a sharp breath, her lips quickly thinning in irritation. The anxiety she had felt only minutes before began to wear off as the stories about ghosts and strange happenings faded within her head, her fears magically melting before the growing heat of her annoyance. "So it was just a coincidence that you are standing above the exact spot where those girls were frightened?"
When her final question was answered with icy silence the Irish woman stamped her foot against the floor. "How stupid do you think I am? I know it was you, whoever you are. Now I am telling you to stop all of this foolishness immediately."
"Why? Are you afraid that you will lose your god-damned self assurance? That you might not be as brave as you like to pretend you are?"
Taking a quick step forward Brielle viciously jabbed the mystery man in the chest. "No, you ass. My four-year-old daughter was with me while I was working tonight. When you pushed that crap onto those girls you nearly scared her to death. She is hardly more than a wee babe…and I swear if this has given her nightmares I will hunt you down and castrate you for the trouble that would cause me."
A disbelieving sputter burst from under the hood and Brielle could feel those burning eyes focusing once again on her face as the man batted the mop handle away. After a moment of searching her face the man shifted his weight uncomfortably. "I didn't know you were there…let alone the fact that Ar…that a child was present."
"The lack of that knowledge is no excuse, sir. And your ignorance does not change the facts of your actions, since it seems you are actually fessing up to the crime."
"And what do you know of crime? The worst that has ever happened here is a loud noise or flickering shadow."
"Or a chandelier being dropped onto the heads of an unsuspecting crowd? What of that?" Once again silence met her question, a reaction she was coming to expect when he didn't want to answer her. "Would you like to ask me what I know of that? I know the man who pretended to be the ghost last year nearly became a mass murderer. I know that the people here still fear him enough to go into hysterics every time a candlestick falls over. What right do you have to exploit that fear? If that is not a crime then I don't know what is!"
"They say the man who did those things is dead now, so no one need fear any repeat of the happenings of last year. They were clearly the work of a madman. My actions cannot in any way be compared to…"
"It doesn't matter. You use their memories of last year to your advantage. You use their built-in fear for your own purposes!"
"And what if I tell you that I fully intend to continue to do as I please no matter what you may say."
"Then I shall have no problem going to the police and informing them of our ghost problem. I will not allow you or any man living to teach my daughter to fear in her new home." Raising a hand to cover the unexpected catch in her voice Brielle stepped back from the man. "I will not allow it." No…my daughter will never learn to fear the retribution of a man. Not like I had to. I will make damn sure of that.
Taking several shaky breaths Brielle fought to regain her composure, not wanting to look weak in front of this stranger. She started when the man took a small step forward, almost as if he intended to touch her, but after a split second he stepped back again. As she watched warily the cloaked figure stiffened and retreated several feet further until he ran up against the railing. The foreboding Brielle had felt the first few minutes she had spoken with the stranger returned full force. Something in the air changed between them then, it thrummed with tension like an over tight violin string.
"I don't think going to the police would be in your best interest," the man whispered, a hint of a smile darkening his tone.
"What do you mean?" Brielle inquired a little too sharply.
"You came here for a reason did you not? Would you really want the police to know where you work?" He paused then and cocked his head to the side, watching her expression change slowly from disbelief to horror. "Because, you see, a young lady runs away to the opera for only two very specific reasons. Either she has done some crime and is keeping a low profile or she is running away from her husband…or father…or any other male relative you wish to name. Because if you were not hiding from something then you would be out in the world being taken care of by your family."
"I have no idea what you are talking about. I mean you don't even know me. I have never heard your voice around before," she stated, growing ever more alarmed at the information this mystery man was so casually revealing to her. It was almost like he knew more than he was letting on.
"And I would imagine your 'male relatives' would pay a great deal to know where you have been," he continued, bringing a gloved hand up to hover just shy of touching a lock of her loose hair. The white of the man's cotton shirt glowed in the darkness as his cape fell back, revealing the rest of his clothing. "Whatever have you done to your lovely hair, Madame?" he murmured softly, his strangely musical voice spinning a web of deception around her brain. Blessed Mary, he has the voice of a siren. Gah! What in the world am I thinking? He is a low-down, dirty, scoundrel…stop thinking about his voice.
Jerking back violently from the man's hovering fingers Brielle swiped at his hand, knocking it clear from her personal space. Gasping for air like a fish out of water the Irish woman tossed the loose tresses of her wig back over her shoulder. Though the cloaked figure hadn't actually touched her, Brielle felt as if an electric shock rocked painfully through her soul from the point where his fingers had hovered.
"What do you know of my hair, sir? You are a stranger to me!" Brielle demanded, calling the man's bluff with as much gusto as she could manage. At least I hope it was a bluff.
"It used to be white," the man smirked.
Shocked into stillness Brielle stared open-mouthed up at the mystery man; the terror rising to clamp vise-like about her throat. "How do you know that, sir?" she managed to whisper through numb, tingly lips.
"I have seen you before. I have a very good memory you see. You were here last year were you not…snooping around I believe. Donovan was your name…not Donner." There was the slightest of pauses as the man tugged fastidiously on the back of his black gloves. "Say, isn't Donovan the name of that rich foreign family? That name has been in the papers recently. Apparently Lord Donovan's young bride has disappeared. Now how much do you think that would be worth to interested parties?" Chills raced along her skin from her head to her toes as the stranger mentioned Andrew with a smile in his voice.
"You bastard how dare you threaten me with…" Brielle started, advancing on the man with fury flickering in her gray eyes, but before she could finish her insult the man raised his open hand up in a quick jerking motion to eye level, cutting off her line of thought in mid-insult.
Flinching back from the man's sudden movement, Brielle ducked her head instinctively as if she expected him to hit her. The mere mention of her former fiancé's name had had the power to change her entire demeanor, planting the seed of self-doubt back into her head. For the briefest of moments gone was the strong-willed young lady who had braved the darkness to confront a ghost, in her shoes now stood a wide-eyed terrorized girl. All too clear images of her own battered face rose to the forefront of her mind, reminding her why she had left in the first place, reminding her of the weeks of confinement and terror she had lived through before gaining her freedom. Flicking a glance upward from under her eyelashes, Brielle straightened slightly when she realized that the man hadn't intended to strike her at all. He was merely readjusting the hood of his cape.
Dropping the tip of her mop handle to the floor, Brielle used the pole to hold herself up as her knees gave out from underneath her. Get a hold of yourself…stay calm…stay calm…"Tell me immediately what your intentions are, sir! You smirk over dangerous things you do not completely understand." No…nonono. This is wrong. We were just getting settled. I was so careful…so sure no one would know me! I changed my appearance…I changed my name…I took a job in a place I knew Andrew would never find me…NO…Brielle finally understood the signals of danger flooding her mind when she had first met the stranger. It was not the threat of physical violence she was sensing, but something far worse. He knew her secret…and he would not have a problem sharing it with anyone who would care to listen.
"Why should I offer you any information when you were so ready to offer me up to the authorities?" the mystery man sneered. "It would be so easy to start the rumor…so easy to tell your beloved where to find you. Though I don't know if he would want you back now…what did you do to earn those bruises? It must have been terrible indeed. Why, you must have shared your affections with too many of the help."
Confusion stole over Brielle's features as her eyes filled unwittingly with a sheen of tears. I have to get out of here…we will have to leave…I can find another job…I can…but we have to leave…Without raising her gaze from the floor the Irish woman turned and fled down the hallway, dropping her mop handle in her panic. The sound of heavy footsteps immediately followed her flight, growing louder as her pursuer quickly caught up with her. Just as she thought the man was right on her heels the sound of his pounding feet stopped suddenly, leaving her with only the echoes of her own ragged breathing.
Pressing a hand to her abdomen, Brielle slowed slightly to glance back over her shoulder. Seeing no one behind her, the Irish woman fearfully came to a stop. Her eyes darting from shadow to shadow Brielle could see no movement except for the slight swaying of the web of ropes and pulleys hanging above the walkway. A sigh a relief passed through her lips as she turned her head to look forward again. Without warning a large black shadow dropped down from above, landing mere inches in front of her. Stumbling backward, Brielle let out a scream as the shadow straightened into the familiar form of her mystery man.
"I was not done," the man intoned menacingly.
"Then please, sir, tell me what you want. I have no great amount of money to bribe you into keeping your silence…but I beg you to do so all the same. If he finds us he will take my daughter from me. My life will become a ruin!"
"Then perhaps you deserve ruin," he replied coolly.
"Only God knows what each of us deserves for our crimes," Brielle murmured as a single tear broke free from her control, stealing down her right cheek.
At the sight of the tear streaking down her face the man turned his head to the side. "Stop blubbering. I have just realized it would be in my best interest to keep what I know to myself."
Sniffling slightly, Brielle looked up, surprised at this final statement. The recent events in her life had taught her not to expect kindness from others. In fact, she had come to realize that human beings, in general, were petty and selfish creatures intent on their own comforts over everything else. So it was not a surprise when her shock quickly faded into suspicion.
"What are you talking about?"
"What I know surely would be worth a small fortune…however, should I reveal your secret no doubt you will give up my late-night activities upon the first opportunity."
"Yes…yes I would you two-faced baboon!" Brielle snapped, swiping angrily at the wetness upon her face. A certain amount of relief washed over her as she slowly came to realize the full implication of what the man was implying. It is so obvious…god he got me so worked up that I missed it! If I tell about him then he tells about me…and the other way around…
Nodding slightly, as if not surprised at all by her continued brazenness, the cloaked figure gave an indifferent shrug. "It seems; Madame, that we are at an impasse. A truce if you will."
"I wouldn't go that far. You despicable degenerate," Brielle spat before she could think better of insulting the man who she now stood on dangerous ground with.
Bowing with a flourish of his cape, the stranger laughed aloud at her insult. "Why thank you."
"I loath the thought that I must keep silent while you are scaring the life out of people but if you insist upon continuing to live off the legend of the Phantom you must assure me you will not actually hurt anyone! No matter what you know about me I will tell everyone what is going on the minute someone gets injured."
Heaving a sigh, the man turned his head to glance quickly over his shoulder. "You certainly have a great deal of guts to continue to demand things when you have absolutely no leverage whatsoever to do so."
"That was not an answer."
"I don't have to tell you anything. I could go on a murdering spree and it would be none of your concern."
"Oh but now it is my concern. You see by knowing what you are doing I will be just as guilty in whatever crimes you may commit. I will watch for any shenanigans that go beyond the simply 'playful' as you put it." This little bit of information did not go over to well with the cloaked figure. A deep growl rolled out from under the hood, clearly indicating the man's displeasure with the idea of Brielle's interference.
"Blast you, you idiot woman…" The stranger hissed as he placed a hand on the railing behind him. Sensing an advantage, Brielle opened her mouth to continue but shut it again when the man turned his back on her.
"Hey, wait just a moment…" Brielle began, only to be cut off in the middle of her complaint when the man turned and leapt over the wooden railing and dropped to the floor below. Running to the edge of the landing the Irish woman searched the darkness below for the man's unmistakable outline. Finding nothing Brielle bashed a fist against the railing. "Hey! Don't forget I'll be watching you!" she shouted into the darkness.
Leaning forward to rest her elbows against the wooden railing Brielle let out a large breath, trying to expel some of her lingering tension. Well it isn't as bad as I thought it would be. My cover is blown of course…but at the moment he can't use it against me. At least that is good news. Aria and I can continue to live here without worry. Just so long as I maintain the status quo. Pursing her lips slightly, Brielle tapped a finger against her cheek. Yes, the balance is a blessing…but God helps those who help themselves. Perhaps I can improve my position by tipping the balance further in my direction. At the moment I only know that man's voice…and what he is up to. I wouldn't be able to identify his face…but if I found out his name or what he looks like then I will have the upper hand.
Smiling at the thought Brielle straightened, wiping her hands against the front of her apron. Humming to herself the Irish woman walked off calmly into the darkness, confident in the fact that though her secret was out she now had a plan to fix the situation in her favor. "He will regret making me worry so…I am going to make his life a living nightmare."
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A week of late nights passed quickly for Brielle as she steadily worked her way around the Opera, taking any assignment given to her without complaint and volunteering for those jobs no one else on the staff wished to do. The Irish woman was settling into her new life with a fresh sense of purpose. By offering up her services with modest regularity, Brielle was purposely making herself indispensable to Madame Dubois and other members of the Opera staff. Though the other cleaning ladies still whispered about her behind her back, the Irish woman was quickly moving up the social ladder. She was determined to not remain a common cleaning lady forever.
Without odd occurrences to mark the days from each other, New Year's Eve passed without Brielle's notice. She only realized the change in year when Meg gave it a passing mention one night after practice. Time just passed differently within the Opera, days went by without even registering. Especially now since the hours spent at work represented only a small fraction of what she thought about. Now she had the mystery of the 'Opera Ghost' to figure out and 'friends' to talk to.
Sitting cross-legged on the floor, Brielle watched happily as Meg leapt about on stage, the late night practice only just beginning. She had long since given up on resisting the other girl's offers of friendship. Something about Meg's infectious laughter and easy demeanor was simply impossible to stand against for long. "Meg, do you know a stagehand who is around six foot three or so? Who speaks very well?" She asked, very much aware of keeping her tone bland.
Brielle had not told Meg, or anyone else for that matter, what had happened that night she went looking for the ghost. The Irish woman didn't want the blonde girl to know that another mysterious man had stepped into the notorious shoes of the Phantom. It was one thing to be nervous about a shadow when you thought it was merely a ghost; it was another thing entirely when that same shadow could possibly be a flesh and blood man.
Balancing on one foot, the other leg raised up behind her, Meg considered Brielle's question for several moments. "No, most of the men around here are short and stupid. Why? Do you have your eye on someone, Brielle?" the blonde asked with a smile.
Drat. Then he isn't a stagehand. Shaking her head with a laugh, Brielle waved off the suggestion. "No! Is that all you think about? Men? I have better things to do with my time," the Irish woman stated airily.
Rising up onto her toes, Meg rolled her eyes. "Oh come on…you can't tell me you don't notice all the handsome young men who are constantly trying to woo the dancers and chorus girls."
"Not at all. They all look the same to me. Not a single one stands out as something in the least bit intriguing."
"Oh I think they are all wonderful," Meg replied dreamily, her large brown eyes going soft with the thought. "Ever since I was a little girl I have dreamed of a knight in shining armor coming to marry me and take me on his adventures with him. The Opera is all right, I suppose…but I have always wanted to see distant places, and fall madly in love."
"Please, Meg, you cannot rely upon some man to fulfill your wishes especially the rich whelps that come around here. They all only have one thing on their minds and do not share a full brain between them. If you want to see the world, go and see it."
Coming to a stop, Meg looked over at Brielle, her shoulders shaking with laughter. "You do say the most shocking things sometimes Brielle. Imagine…me going off to run about on my own. My mother would die! But it would be strangely exciting."
"Absolutely! Down with men and all their vices!" Brielle said with one fist raised.
Grabbing her stomach to control the gales of laughter washing over her, Meg stumbled over and sat down next to the Irish woman. "You have to beg Madame Dubois to allow you to work in the mornings Brielle. You are far too funny for me to keep to myself. The girls already have fallen in love with Aria. They think she is just darling. So naturally they must meet you. I told them all about how you ran off into the darkness, weapon in hand, after the Ghost when he dropped those costumes on those chorus girls."
"Oh, no Meg you didn't tell them that! People will start to think I am some sort of wild woman. But I do worry about allowing Aria to follow you around all day while I sleep but she refuses to spend time with the other children. She doesn't get in the way of people, does she?"
"Oh no. I watch her carefully. And they love her! Even my mother picks her up occasionally and carries her about on her hip. And she usually hates young children."
"I am glad she has finally found something to do with her days. The other children always make fun of her…and I found out that rather than put up with them Aria was wandering alone about the Opera. I nearly had a heart attack when I heard that…this place is so easy to get lost in."
"Well, worry not, my friend! She is a pleasure to have around," Meg said, leaning over to give Brielle a playful swat.
Dodging the other girl's move Brielle found herself covering a laugh with her hand. "Oh, Meg. You are crazy to think you don't catch people's notice. I think you are one of the most interesting people in this place. Someday some poor man will come in here and you will steal his heart away."
"I thought you didn't believe in love. Didn't you just tell me the other day that you thought love was a…was a…oh how did you put it?"
"Love is a biological trick, a chemical misfire in the brain that clouds rational thought and disrupts common sense," Brielle stated matter of factly, a certain level of bitterness pinching at the corners of her mouth. "Why else do you think women would put up with men? But for you I will make an exception in my beliefs. If anyone will find romance I think you will."
"That is sweet of you to say but I predict we will both live happily ever after!" Meg cried enthusiastically as she climbed to her feet and glided across the stage.
"If you say so," Brielle replied with a smile, feeling oddly at peace despite the turmoil of recent events. Happily ever after? Maybe that isn't as farfetched as it might have once seemed. I will keep working hard and eventually will make my way up from where I am. I will make my own way. But first I have to find out who that man was. If I have to talk to every man that works here I will find him. And once I hear his voice I will be on my way.
Things are definitely looking up.