Chapter 102

"Claude, may I ask how long you lived in Denmark?" Julia asked as supper was passed around the table.

"Until I was six years of age," Claude answered. "And then we lived in Metz until I was eight, Lyon for half a year followed by Paris very briefly and then...Orleans, I think?" He squinted as he spoke as though concentrating. "We moved back to Denmark to live with my grandfather until he passed a year later and then we returned to Paris and I've been here ever since."

Inside I felt myself cringe as Raoul nodded and pushed the small portion of food around his plate. "You have not stayed in one place long," he commented, which was precisely what I expected him to say.

"Why did you move so frequently?" Lisette whispered from across the table. She looked to Julia for silent reassurance in partaking in an adult conversation.

"No one ever told me," Claude said with a shrug.

"Did you enjoy living in so many different places?"Lisette asked, her tone unchanged.

"I didn't mind," Claude replied. Alex passed him a dish of green beans and he scooped a generous portion onto his plate. "As long as I was with my family, I didn't care where we lived."

"What was your favorite place to live?" Alex asked.

"With my grandfather in Rens," Claude answered without a moment of hesitation. He smiled at my son. "It was beautiful there and we were happy. I became quite the expert on imitating many birds and frogs from living there."

Alex looked to me before he leaned toward Claude and said something in Danish that made Claude chuckle and shake his head.

"No, not at supper," Claude said. "But another time, yes."

Raoul looked curiously at Alex and Claude. "May I ask what you said, Alexandre?"

Alex grinned quite deviously. "I asked Claude to make a sound like a chicken."

"Most amusing," Raoul replied, his tone giving no indication he truly felt amused. He took his first bite of his food and nodded in approval, seeming somewhat surprised at the quality of our supper. Apparently he thought I served gruel or slop fit for hogs. "Monsieur Gillis, do you live alone in Paris?"

"I do, Monsieur."

"Where do you live?"

"Place Jean Luc DeVries, south of Grande Rue."

Raoul frowned. "I didn't realize there was a residential area in that part of the city. I thought it was mostly...I suppose it doesn't matter what I thought. Do you have a studio nearby your residence?"

Claude shook his head. "I know it isn't much, but my flat is two streets away from where I have been employed for the last seven years."

Raoul raised a brow. "What is your current age?"

"I will be twenty years of age in January."

Raoul squinted. "You have been employed since you were thirteen."

"Yes, Monsieur."

"What is your occupation?"

"I work at the shoe factory," Claude proudly admitted. "I started alongside my mother when we moved back to the city so that I could help with...well, with everything, really. My mother's health declined shortly after we arrived and I was eager to take the burden off her."

Raoul's eyes briefly cut to me before he turned his attention back to Claude. "I was not aware of your employment. I was under the assumption you were an artist."

"He is," I interjected.

"Not exclusively," Raoul said under his breath.

My jaw clenched, and if Julia had not brushed her arm to mine, I would have allowed my rage a voice. "One of his paintings is behind you," I pointed out.

Raoul twisted in his chair and gazed briefly at the painting as if he checked the time on a clock. "Your style is quite unique," he said.

Claude forced a smile. "Yes, I suppose it is."

"How did you make Monsieur Kire's acquaintance?" Raoul asked.

"At the park across from Duvall School," Claude answered. He looked to Alex and Lisette and smiled. "I had the pleasure of meeting not simply the composer, but his entire family. Lisette reminds me quite a bit of my own sister."

Raoul seemed oblivious to Claude's sentimental words and crossed his arms. "Have you sold many pieces?"

Instantly I regretted my advice to Claude that he should be truthful and truly hoped he would instead fabricate a story of numerous art sales along with upcoming shows.

"Three," Claude answered, his voice still filled with pride.

"To different buyers?"

"Well, two were to my mother," Claude answered. "But I am very proud of this one, not simply because of who purchased my painting, but because it was a whimsical stretch from what is more popular these days. I would be quite honored to paint something for you as well if it pleases you, comte, whatever you wish and in whatever style you prefer."

"You are very kind to offer, but I am afraid I'm not much of a collector of art."

From the corner of my eye, I saw Alex raise his hand as he wiggled in his seat. "Comte," he said quietly.

"Yes, Alex?" Raoul politely responded, turning his attention to my son.

"Did you see the painting of our family in the foyer?"

Raoul narrowed his eyes. "Briefly, yes. Is that another one of Monsieur Gillis' pieces?"

"No, it's from my Uncle Phelan," Alex answered. "My uncle helped me and my sister paint a family portrait too. He is a very good artist and people adore him, just as they do my father."

I felt both Claude and Raoul look immediately in my direction, the comte with piqued interest and Claude with confusion in his narrowed gaze at the mention of my brother.

"I will have to take another look when I leave,"Raoul said. "Thank you very much for the delicious meal, but I am afraid I will be late for my next appointment if I don't leave at once." He started to move his chair back when Claude's hand shot out.

"Is there anything else I can answer? Specifics regarding my sister and The Elise? Anything at all?"

Raoul forced another polite smile. "Not at this time."

"I thought that is why we were gathered here this evening." Claude gave me a desperate, questioning look.

"Unfortunately I must be on my way to other pressing issues, but I will be in touch with our gracious host if I have additional inquiries. It was lovely meeting you, Monsieur Gillis. I wish you the best in your career as a painter."

Raoul stood and I did the same, silently gesturing for Claude to remain seated. I followed Raoul out of the dining room where he moved toward the foyer at a brisk pace. I gave Claude one last look and nodded to reassure him, but his expression was already hopeless. With a sigh I closed the pocket door behind me and stalked after Raoul.

"A word," I growled. "If you would allow me the pleasure, comte."

"I appreciate your invitation this evening," Raoul said as he reached the front door. His words sounded rehearsed, a phrase he was accustomed to saying as he departed from gatherings he had attended out of duty.

"On behalf of my guest, we appreciate your swift attention to the matter at hand."

"It is my pleasure," he said stiffly. "Now, if you will excuse me-"

"You've already made a decision?" I asked.

Raoul took a breath, his shoulders dropping as he turned away from me. "I wouldn't say that."

"You needn't dance for me, comte. You are not in favor of uniting Claude and his sister, are you?"

"Now is not the time to discuss-"

"Tell me honestly, what would have happened to you if your father had died shortly after your mother?" I asked before Raoul had the opportunity to depart. He didn't fully turn, but he looked at me from the corner of his eye. "I assume you would have been placed with Philippe?"

I had his full attention at the mention of his older brother. They were not many years apart in age, perhaps four at the most, but I distinctly recalled many occasions where Raoul had toddled after his older sibling, constantly begging to be at his brother's side.

Philippe-who was undoubtedly the favorite child-humored his little brother, much to the adoration of his parents. Seeing the entire de Chagny family within the theater had always made me bitterly jealous. The de Chagny children had precisely what I always wanted; a doting mother, a father who beamed with pride at the sight of his sons, and three siblings who were always together and under the watchful gaze of their attentive parents.

I admired and hated them, all of them.

"God willing I would have stayed with my brother," Raoul said.

"God willing the de Chagny fortune would have remained fully intact for Philippe to provide for you and your sister."

Raoul grunted. "I understand what you are saying, Monsieur Kire, and I appreciate you championing for this girl's brother."

"Is there a need for formalities?" I asked, stalking closer to him. "After all these long years, you may certainly call me by my given name. In fact, I must insist."

Raoul lifted his chin, but his eyes revealed his utter trepidation. He widened his stance, his hands forming loose fists as though he expected the encounter would lead to a physical altercation.

I paused several paces from him, thinking back to the night in the alley when he and his friends had escorted me from the Wisteria hotel and beaten me worse than I'd endured since Persia.

Despite the civility between us since that unfortunate encounter, I savored the advantage I had over him once more, the way he stared back at me with the realization that the ghost had been resurrected.

"You are aware of my given name, are you not?"

"Erik," he said, spitting out the single word as though he spoke a curse.

"My brother named me," I said.

His brows lifted slightly in surprise, which I had anticipated.

"You were not aware until this evening that I had an older brother, same as you?" I asked. "Well, I suppose not quite the same as you. Our parents did not have the same comforts provided to them as your mother and father. You received their wealth; my brother and I received something much more burdensome as orphans."

He looked as he had ten years earlier, like an animal aware that it had become prey. The predator within me took great interest in the weak creature who had two choices: stand before me or bolt out the front like a frightened child. I wished to devour him and leave no scraps behind, but I forced myself to take a breath and a small step back from him. He was of no use to me if he ran out the door, and the time to torment him had passed long ago. The stakes were different, and yet they were not so changed.

"Your brother is Phelan Kimmer, I presume?" He looked behind me at the painting from my recent holiday.

"Correct."

"All of these years and I had no idea."

Neither had I, but that was beside the point.

"We had nothing," I elaborated. "No servants to tend to our every whim or a nanny to sooth our troubled brows. We did not even have wood to keep a fire in the hearth or food in the pantry to lessen the constant pang of hunger. Have you ever gone to bed hungry a day in your life, Comte de Chagny? Not as punishment for insolence, but because there was nothing available?"

Raoul's gaze lowered and he remorsefully shook his head. I wondered if he had attended one of my brother's shows, if he had seen the painting of the figure at the bottom of the dark cellar stairs and thought to himself that the subject resembled another creature from the shadows, one he had known as a ghost.

"Eventually we didn't simply lack food and warmth. Eventually we didn't even have each other. Could you imagine? Losing everything?"

Raoul gripped the door frame. "I understand your plight-"

"How could you possibly understand, a man of your upbringing? A man who has not once suffered the hardship of losing contact with his only sibling at the age of three and both parents at the age of twelve."

"That is not quite the situation with the Gillis girl."

"Do you wish for it to be more tragic?"

"Of course not."

"Then what is the issue?"

"How could you possibly be so ignorant of the situation? Of what type of situation this girl could be placed in if moved to the city," Raoul argued.

"I am hardly ignorant of the situation," I said through my teeth.

"Claude Gillis lives across the street from a brothel," he said, keeping his voice low and even. "He is employed in a factory where he can barely support himself judging by his clothing and location of his flat. What sort of life can he provide for his sister should she be placed in his care?"

"A better life than she has lived thus far crammed into a bed at night with three other girls after a day of scrubbing floors, walls, and looking after infants with a far better chance of obtaining a home than she will ever have."

"She has a roof over her head and three meals a day," he reasoned.

"Apolline is little more than a slave to The Elise, one they are able to keep without protest simply because the only person who would want her back lacks the funds to purchase her. That is the truth of the matter and you know it."

"Is she truly better off scrounging for meals here in the city? Or forced to work beside Claude in a factory from sunrise until sunset so that they can simply be together? What if she found employment across the street to help support herself and her brother while he is away? You know there are plenty of men in this city who would take interest in a girl her age."

"I would not allow it," I firmly stated. The very thought made me want to wretch.

"How precisely do you intend to prevent anything from happening?" Raoul asked, his tone boarding on condescending. "Adopt the girl yourself?"

"What would you do?" I snarled. "Write another check to the headmistress and pretend there is nothing amiss? At least you will receive the recognition you so desperately require from your wealthy peers regardless of what happens to the children. That is all that matters in the end, isn't it? Keeping up the appearances of your family in front of your equals, regardless of the cost to others."

Raoul stared at me in disbelief, his nostrils flared and features twisted in anger. We were still several feet apart, but he jabbed his finger in my direction. "I support the less fortunate in memory of my wife, not for recognition amongst the elite of this damn city." He took a step away from the door and toward me. "Everything I have done since Christine's passing has been in loving memory of my wife, not to sate some perverse need for recognition. How dare you insinuate such a wretched idea. If anyone else in the world would have some meager understanding of how greatly I cared for Christine, I thought it would be you."

I regretted lashing out at him in such a fashion and looked away. "My apologies for speaking harshly. I have no doubt you will continue to do whatever is within your power to honor her memory, however, who you are financially supporting is what remains in question."

"And that is a question I fully intend to have answered."

"Sooner than later, I hope."

"I do not make impulsive decisions that could potentially have disastrous endings, Erik," he replied smoothly. The look in his eye was venomous, but he managed to stay composed and I grunted, impressed by his audacious display.

"Thank you for your time, Raoul. I sincerely appreciate your attention in this matter," I said in the most polite tone I could muster.

Raoul looked past me at the painting before meeting my eye for a final time. "Your brother is a remarkable painter. His soul is evident in each one," he said.

"Flattery I shall pass on to him."

"You resemble one another now that I know you are related. I've seen him frequently at the opera. He's a bit…" Raoul made a face as though words escaped him.

"He's a bit of an arrogant pain in the ass," I finished for him.

Raoul appeared started by my uncouth words. "I do hope you have no intention of passing that onto Phelan as well."

"He would also consider that flattery, perhaps more so than you stating he is a great artist."

Raoul snorted before he cleared his throat and straightened his overcoat. "I give you my word that I will visit The Elise unannounced. Beyond that, I cannot make promises. I trust you will understand."

I nodded, trusting that he would understand that if he remained blind to the situation or unwilling to involve himself, I would take matters into my own hands.