A/N: Thanks for the reviews - Keeps me posting! Of course the more reviews I receive, the quicker I'll post. ;-) Enjoy!
Chapter 6
My fork clattered to the table, attracting yet more disapproving glares from other customers, and I hastily retrieved the utensil. At least, for a little while, people had ignored us.
"You must have thought me to be very stupid," she added quietly, "to believe you were an angel this whole time."
I looked down, feeling my chest tighten. How long had she known? How had she found out? And why had she played along with the pretense?
"I hope you're not cross with me, but I-I didn't know how to tell you."
My eyes lifted involuntarily toward her, and to my astonishment, a different Christine peered back at me. Fleetingly, I recalled the mysterious shadows in her eyes when she had tried on the red dress the night before. Christine no longer appeared as the foolish, naïve girl I had stubbornly persisted in seeing. No, her expression, though timid, was as masked as my own.
"Why should it matter what I think?" I demanded coldly. "Aren't you...afraid? I am a man who has deceived you to gain your trust."
"You'd never hurt me!" she insisted, and the passion in her voice startled me. She added in a calmer tone of voice, "I mean, I know you...At first, I admit I was…apprehensive." At my expression, she blundered forward, "But you were always so kind! Even when I showed up unprepared, you were so patient. And no matter how many times I begged to see you, you refused. I know they're scared of you at the Opera house, but they don't know you. Not the way I do. You've never really hurt anyone, either! If they weren't so busy screaming, they'd realize your pranks are harmless. Some of them are quite funny, actually! But I wish they could hear your music. If they heard it, they would realize who you truly are. Doesn't music reflect the composer's soul?" Despite her confident expression, the slight tremor in her voice betrayed an uncertainty she refused to admit.
I drew an agitated hand through my hair. My luck had run out, and it was time for her to understand who, no what, her so-called angel was.
"You don't know me," I replied, my voice low and shaking. "I can create a great many beautiful fantasies, but fantasies they remain."
"Oh angel, don't say such things. You gave me a voice and a reason to live," she argued innocently.
"Christine, I'm not an angel," I stated emphatically.
She looked guilelessly at me, then broke into a smile. "I'm not afraid." She added boldly, "You've always been an angel to me."
Before I could respond, the waiter arrived with our entrées, and both Christine and I jumped back in our seats from where we had begun to lean toward each other.
"Mademoiselle, your salmon." He placed Christine's steaming plate in front of her. "Monsieur, your lamb."
He left, and Christine laughed, "At this rate, we'll never be in time for the masquerade."
"Ah yes, the masquerade," I muttered irritably. "I suppose you can't wait to see your boy. Will you be singing there, too? Giving free performances for frivolous entertainment?"
Her smile faded, and at once, I regretted my outburst. At the same time, I did not wish to return to the topic we had been discussing before.
"Eat," I ordered shortly. "Let us finish our meals quickly. We'll be in time for the masquerade."
She picked at her food, while I tried to refrain from stabbing at the meat.
In truth, I did not want to share Christine's company with anyone. Every holiday, my student always went to the De Chagny's to celebrate, while I had been left alone. Now that I was with Christine, I did not want to give her up for anyone else, not even the people she considered her closest friends.
"I discovered that mirror mechanism accidentally after one of our lessons," she began tentatively after a moment.
My knife slipped where it was attempting to cut the meat.
"It's so cleverly built, but actually, I'm quite good picking locks! Oh ange, the tunnel was so dark, and I lost my way. But then, I heard your music. It was so beautiful! It seemed to be calling me—"
The shock was too great, and I could stand it no longer. Christine picking locks? Christine roaming around the catacombs?
"You fool!" I exploded. "Didn't it occur to you that it could be dangerous, wandering around such a place?"
"But ange, I just wanted to see you! But then, Madame Giry appeared and—"
"Madame Giry?" I demanded sharply, at once enraged. "Antoinette knew about this!"
That crafty old woman! How dare she not tell me that Christine had discovered the catacombs and had even been wandering around such a place!
"Well, I asked her many times to let me see you, but she refused," Christine replied, oblivious. "She also forbade me from ever setting foot in the tunnels again. But Meg and I sometimes snuck around." She giggled mischievously. "It was fun spying on Monsieur Reyer in his office and scaring the ballerinas. I thought at some point to run into you, but Meg seemed terrified at the possibility. So, I always made sure to call your name first to see whether you were around. If you didn't answer, I'd rap on the mirror. I figured it would give you a start if you were lingering there – you know, that I'd hear you move. Then, I'd open the mirror a crack to take a peek. But you were never around unless it was for our lessons. Anyway, one time, we went below, not very far, and—"
"You will never set foot there again!" I roared, not caring that several people were whispering in our direction. "You could have been killed. Don't you understand? Killed!"
As soon as returned to my lair, I would make sure to disable every one of my traps. God forbid, my student was lucky she had not found herself at the bottom of the lake!
Christine's eyes were stretched so wide, I could see the whites of them on every side. "A-Angel?"
I rubbed my temples, any semblance of an appetite lost. "Finish your food. We leave in five minutes."
I had no desire to continue this conversation. Christine knew I was the Opera Ghost. Even Madame Giry knew that Christine knew. Was I the only one who hadn't known?
My mood soured considerably.