A/N: Thank you wonderful readers for all your support! :) And now…

Chapter XXIX

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Christine woke after a night of confused thoughts that eventually dwindled into heavy slumber. Uncertain of the time of day with no windows to reveal the sun or the moon, she noticed a gown laid out over a chair and slipped out of bed to don whatever clothes the Phantom had provided.

The dress of pinstriped silk shimmered like rays of bright and dark silver bordered between navy lines, giving the subtle impression of moonlight on a still pond at dusk. With fitted sleeves that hugged to the elbows and flared softly to the wrists and detailed with navy ribbon at the square-lined décolletage, the day dress had a gentle bustle draped at the back.

She smoothed a hand along its soft folds, impressed with the quality and cut, as fine as anything she had worn at The Grange. Petticoats, stockings, pantalets and chemise lay folded on the padded seat beneath. She was grateful there was no corset or the usual bulky round cushion that strapped at the derriere to push out the skirt, even if her natural form wouldn't do much to help bring the soft bustle to stark prominence. Absent of the boned device and padding, she felt confident she could dress without Jolene's aid. Even that small comfort gave her a much-needed sense of independence - and there were slippers for her to wear too! Certainly nicer than anything she had once owned.

With her hair a mass of dirty tangles Christine longed for a bath. She moved toward the chamber she had earlier noticed near the privy room, surprised to see Jolene there, pulling a small lever in the wall. Water rushed from the rock into a long copper tub and Christine watched in amazement.

"Is it morning then?" she asked.

Jolene turned and looked at her oddly. "Oui, mademoiselle. The sun has risen. I was soon coming to wake you."

"How could you possibly know what time of day it is?"

"The lake, mademoiselle."

"The lake?"

"There is a chamber - where you first spoke to Jacques and I. The chamber that is near your room. Above the lake is a hole in the cave ceiling that leads to the outside."

Christine absently nodded, recalling how she had seen daylight shimmer on the water.

She moved closer, curious as she watched Jolene at her task. "How does that work?"

Jolene glanced up. "Behind this wall is a rock basin of water that feeds from a pipe in the lake. Beneath are coals that keep it heated. The bathtub in your chamber has the same. Whenever you wish to bathe, you only have to pull this down…" She pointed to a lever near a spout where water that steamed still poured into the basin. "When the water fills as you wish it, pull this back up to stop the flow. When you finish with your bath, there is a plug, here," she motioned to the foot of the tub. "Pull the chain to break the seal and the water will drain through another pipe."

Christine never had seen anything like it but among many other names, the Phantom called himself inventor. Had he created this? At memory of his reason for being secreted down here she decided he must have - she doubted he had brought anyone else to his dark hideaway.

"I see. Thank you for your help. I won't be needing anything else if, if the Phantom should need you for … for whatever reason."

Ill at ease, Christine smiled at the girl, still uncertain how she fit into his life. Jolene looked at her a little strangely, as if uncertain what to make of her either, then exited the chamber …

… which Christine suddenly realized had no door.

Nervously she looked around the sparse area. Except for a small table with bath supplies and towels, the only other item in the room was a thin, black velvet drape that hung from a circular rod above. She assumed it trapped in the heat rising from the copper tub in the otherwise cold chamber. She hesitated in sudden indecision. Staring into the clear, inviting water, she imagined how good it would feel against her skin after being so long without any such comfort …

The drape would have to double for modesty's sake too.

Before she changed her mind - fervently hoping Jolene had gone to inform the master of the lair that Christine now occupied this room so he would keep his distance, but nervous that she hadn't and wishing now she had remembered to ask her to do so - Christine hauled her shift over her head and dropped it to the floor. Hurriedly she stepped into the water and pulled the drape around the tub in one hasty motion, the wooden rungs sliding swiftly over metal and creating a raucous noise that surely could be heard from the lake chamber. That would warn him she was there and to stay away.

Heart beating fast, she put a hand to the wall and eased herself into the tub. She took slow, deep breaths to relax, uncertain why she should feel so frantic, at the same time aware of the cause. Her mind slipped to another day weeks ago when she had planned to bathe, and she clenched her teeth and closed her eyes at the abhorrent memory, unwilling to play victim to it any longer. Henri was dead and buried. The Phantom, for all his despicable acts, was nothing like her abusive, lecherous cousin had been. The Phantom could have harmed her many times, could have forced himself on her in her unconscious state and had done the opposite, even forcing distance between them. As odd as the truth was under the circumstances of her being his captive and threatened by his demands … she felt she could trust him.

Christine briefly laughed aloud, then shook her head with little humor, wondering if the musty, underground air was confusing rational thought. Regardless of such startling knowledge, because of her horrific experience that last day in England she still couldn't curb a sudden panic when he drew too close in his sardonic stalking. Sternly she told herself panic was all she ever felt. Any incongruous feelings stemmed from confusion and temporary lunacy, nothing more.

Torches blazed from two adjoining rock walls and produced a mild yellow glow through the material but provided enough light to see. Forcing herself to relax, Christine dipped her head back, allowing the restorative water to soak her scalp then rested her neck against the smooth wooden rim. The heat soaked into her skin and soothed every knot of tension beneath the surface. The tub stretched so far that her legs were fully extended and she realized he would need it that long to accommodate his great height. An additional warmth having nothing to do with her bath suffused her to the very core at the unwanted thought of him where she now sat. Quickly she forced the unbidden image away, setting her mind to her task of cleanliness.

For the first time since she'd been brought underground she was beginning to feel human again and picked up a slab of soap lathering it over her hair and body.

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xXx

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The Phantom had spent the nighttime hours surveying the actions of those in the theatre and now paced near the dais, between staircases, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides.

So, the incompetent imbeciles still planned to defy him? From the conversations he'd overheard, the managers had discussed La Carlotta taking the lead for his opera. Fools! Did they believe he would allow such a travesty? And where the hell was his future prima donna? It was almost three quarters of an hour past the time he'd told her to be here!

No one was where they should be. The boy was likely off on one of his adventuresome haunts of pretense, Jolene was absent and must have gone above to lose herself in the busy streets of the market to purchase food. He only hoped she had enough sense to stay away from the hotel.

"Miss Daaé!"

He marched to the bedchamber and hesitated near the threshold. He had granted Christine privacy but without Jolene to check on her, he had little choice but to investigate.

"Mademoiselle Daaé - answer me! Are you there?"

When no response came he entered the bedchamber. He took in the sight of the bunched coverlet and sheet before moving to the side of the bed in frustration. Had she gone back to sleep? Had Jolene not roused her before dawn as he'd told her to do last night?

He pulled the cover away, only to find the mattress empty. It was then he noticed that the clothing he'd told Jolene to set out still lay over a chair, and the pieces brutally clicked into place.

"Blast you - no!"he growled.

That first week of her pathetic escape attempts had him rush to the passageway behind the chamber - the only corridor in all of his underground world, besides the canal beyond the closed portcullis, that led to the world above.

Swift and silent, he hurried through the tunnel, grinding his teeth that he had been played for a fool against her shrewd treachery. Once more, he had believed her deceptive lies masquerading as quiet earnestness, had foolishly acknowledged her surrender and that she had finally accepted his terms.

With clenched fists he moved toward the passage that led to a staircase above, stopping short when he heard her softly humming from behind. Startled, he slowly retraced his steps and stood immobile at the entry of his bath chamber.

He stared at the closed drape pulled all the way around his copper tub. Steam trailed upward to the cave ceiling. The material billowed out as an elbow knocked against it and the Phantom knew he had found his little songbird.

A hot torrent of desire raced through his blood and he clutched one edge of the rock to prevent himself from moving forward. He continued to stare at the drape, able to see the hazy silhouette of her form that the strong torchlight brought out. Her humming dwindled into silent song, forced and anxious, stopping then starting over again as if she tested her skill and found it sadly wanting…

A foolish thought when her voice had been the closest to perfection he had ever known.

An unexpected surge of tenderness had him push away from the wall and quickly return to the main chamber.

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xXx

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Once Christine hurriedly dressed, she toweled her hair dry and tied it back with a narrow black ribbon that had also been provided. She smoothed nervous hands down the front of her dress.

The blissful water had been difficult to leave and so soothing she had drifted into a light slumber. When she jerked awake and realized how much time must have passed, she'd quickly exited her bath, surprised but relieved not to have heard him storm down the corridor into the room and demand her immediate presence.

At the entry of the bedchamber, she nervously looked into the main room toward the Phantom. He stood tall with his back to her, reading an open scroll in his hands. She took advantage of his ignorance in her presence to observe the width of his shoulders and narrow form. Again, he wore a tail coat, obviously considering her lessons a formality. Even dressed as a gentleman of distinction he possessed a natural, lissome grace that could only be described as dangerous and untamed. The sight of him made her heart skip a nervous beat.

"You're late."

His deep voice came soft and startled her from taking the next breath. He rolled the curled parchment back together and slowly turned to face her. From his silk ascot, brocaded waistcoat to the high polish of his shoes, he was the picture of elegant refinement while his golden eyes beyond the mask glittered wild.

"I - I'm sorry," she stuttered and swallowed hard. "I didn't intend to be. Late. It won't happen again."

He gave a short nod and approached. She no longer feared him but something in his cool, restrained manner made her feel like she should run.

He stopped before her and held out his hand. "Shall we?"

She looked down at his hand, watching as hers rose to meet it. He had touched her, carried her, held her, but the simple contact of his cool fingers wrapping around hers brought a tingle of sheer warmth that flowed beneath her skin.

It wasn't the first time she'd felt it…

She flinched in shock, ready to pull back but he tightened his hold.

"We have lost more than an hour, mademoiselle. It is time to proceed."

Christine blew out a little breath, refusing to give way to unease, and gave a slight nod. The Phantom led her up the stairs and brought her to stand beside the organ, then moved to take a seat on the bench. She clutched the wrist of her hand that still tingled behind her.

"First we will commence with a series of simple, basic scales to evaluate the range of your voice. These exercises will be part of your daily warm-up program." He paused to look at her, and thinking he expected a response she again nodded. "I will play a chord and you will sing in that key with a series of short vowel sounds." He struck a chord and demonstrated with his own rich voice then again looked up at her. "Are you ready to proceed, mademoiselle?"

Christine nervously licked her lips and nodded.

She focused on the portcullis as he took her through the first octave. Her gaze wandered to his lean hands moving steadily up along the keyboard as she answered the notes. His hands were pale and white like the rest of his skin, his fingers long and limber, strong, those of an artist, their span easily stretching from note to note. She watched them move higher along the keys and her attention lifted to his eyes, noting that he stared intently at her. The awe in their golden depths shone with each progression, his clear approval a warm glow inside her soul.

He pulled his hands away from the keys, never breaking eye contact with her.

"Amazing…"

His faint whisper brought her attention to his mouth, and her heart gave a jolt to see what the mask revealed of his lips turned up in a disbelieving smile. A true smile, one she had never seen since coming to these caves.

"I knew you had potential. I was not wrong."

Her own lips curled up in relieved gratitude. The harmonious moment lasted only a matter of seconds before he grew serious again.

"We have a great deal of work ahead of us, make no mistake, but the canvas to create the masterpiece is present." His golden eyes lowered down her form, fully taking her in, then again lifted to her face, giving her the oddest feeling that she'd just been branded. "There are times you will curse me. Without a doubt, I will curse you. I demand all of what you have to offer - and beyond anything you think you can give."

She fidgeted, pulling at her fingers behind her back. "First you seek to encourage me, then you provoke me to dread the experience?"

His brow lifted in all seriousness. "I want you aware of the entirety of what our association will entail so there will be no misunderstandings. I am not a patient man when it comes to my music."

She recalled the irate demands that Meg had told her the Opera Ghost made of the managers in his notes, and she had seen with her own eyes his perilous warning to those in the theatre. She shivered at the memory, but one look into his steady eyes had her nod, certain of what she wanted. To sing again and be given the chance to perform before an audience.

"Then, monsieur, I consider myself forewarned. I am ready when you are."

Christine reminded herself of her brave words numerous times as the morning progressed.

Any outward admiration of her talent dissolved as he transformed from mystifying Phantom into austere teacher. He took her through further exercises, first demonstrating how each was to be performed. He then told her to sing the aria he heard on the night she had fretfully taken the empty stage and he discovered she could sing.

"No," she said without thinking, horror gripping her heart at the idea of reliving those words.

"No?" He looked at her as if he had not heard her. "Have I not made our positions clear? I make the orders, you will obey them. Sing the aria."

"I - I can't, monsieur. Please don't make me."

That song - that special verse - belonged to Erik alone. She had sung it for him when they stood under the stars and pledged themselves to one another one windy night on the Summit, and later she had sung to him alone in a darkened theatre. Only and always for him. Her love for him had brought her back to this point, but she could not endure the anguish that singing the song would bring. Her choice to release the past was much too fresh to escape any hope that the poignant lyrics would not affect her. And the last thing she wanted was to collapse into tears again in front of this man.

"Do not lie and tell me you don't know the words, mademoiselle," he said very quietly, staring at the keys. "I have heard you sing them."

"Yes, I know. I do know them, but - I just, I cannot sing that song again. Please, monsieur. Any other song you wish me to sing, I will - but not that one."

"The selection is not up to you." His eyes were brittle chips of golden glass as he snapped them her way, the level of his voice rising. "What I tell you to sing, you will sing!"

Tears she couldn't control brimmed to her eyes at the thought. "I won't! I can't - not that one!"

He slammed his hands on discordant notes and shot to his feet. "You do not have the option to choose!"

Emotion choking her throat, the wretched tears spilled down her cheeks. She could only shake her head in angry, hopeless frustration.

Trembling all over, she clutched the edge of the organ…could not do this. Needed escape from those piercing, all-seeing eyes. Not yet strong enough to run all the way to her bedchamber, she whirled from him, picked up the hem of her skirts and rushed to his.

"MISS DAAÉ!" His voice thundered through the cavern. "COME BACK HERE!"

She knew he could easily catch up to her if he tried and prayed he would let her go until she could pull herself together. Her legs felt too shaky to flee down a corridor the length and destination of which she did not know, her first frantic urge to lose herself in the darkness she abhorred so no one could ever find her.

Instead, Christine ran to his bed and fell to it, grabbing up the pillow and burying her face in it so he wouldn't hear her misery. She struggled to be silent, relieved when the stillness in the room lingered, assuring her that he had not followed.

A low rumble filled her ears, the mattress near her head softly giving way. The warm feel of silk brushed against her neck. Confused, she lifted her head from the pillow to see.

The sight of unblinking golden eyes within a smooth canvas of glossy black that now moved steadily toward her face made her gape in utter disbelief...

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xXx