Under the Veil of Honorable Marriage
©2006 Black Rose Collection
By: Melissa Smith and Roxanne Walker
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The characters of Erik, Christine, Jules, Reyer and any other Phantom related character are under the respective copyrights or Webber, Kay, or Leroux. All other characters are original to the authors of this story and should not be used without permission, INCLUDING the surname Renault.
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Chapter One:
The Époque
Headline in The Époque:
De Chagny’s
To Return To
The clank of the coins hitting the newspaper boy’s meager cup was enough to bring Erik out of his haze. He re-read the headline again, walking away from the stand and keeping his hood pulled tightly over his head, bracing against the cold, snowy morning.
It has been just over a year. One long, agonizing year since the Opera house fire that burned all he had. One long, agonizing year since he made the fateful decision to let Christine return to the safety of her boy, Raoul de Chagny.
He could hardly contain his curiosity as he sat in the carriage that would take him to his home in Le Vezinet, just outside the hustle and bustle of the busy Parisian streets. He finally opened the paper and read the rest of the story.
Vicomte and Vicomtess
Raoul and Christine de Chagny are expected to arrive within the next week in
preparations for the grand opening of the newly restored
Her voice is not
ready…. Erik grimaced at the very
notion, but continued to read.
The Opera house, whose
upper rooms, stage and rooftop were almost completely destroyed by the infamous
fire just over a year go, is expected to be full to capacity when the doors
open officially the first of May. The
Opera house owners, Monsieurs Richard Firmin and Gil
Andre are quoted as saying that they are, “most excited to see the Opera house
back to its full glory and splendor.”
He dropped the paper into his lap in disgust as the carriage pulled to a stop in front of his home. His driver, Jacques, opened the door for him and waited for Erik to exit. Erik nodded to him and he drove the carriage off to the eastern side of the estate.
A rather vast estate, it was found by his associate Jules Bernard within a mere few days after his escape from the Opera house. It took more than half of his money to buy and restore it, but as he stood to admire it, walking up the cobblestone path to the front entrance, he knew it was worth it.
After moving in and being rather disgusted with half his money now spent, he looked for a way to make a new profit. With his twenty thousand francs a month salary gone, he decided to bleed the Opera house dry another way, by becoming an investor. Jules did the legwork, and under the name Charles Renault, his father’s name, he became a principal investor. It has paid off. Even while the renovations were going on, the opera house turned a hefty profit, opening it up for tours of the damage, especially the cellars.
His cellars.
They were all but destroyed in the fire, yet a rather crafty Madame Giry, under instructions from Erik, suggested that curiosity seekers might pay money to view the former home of the now infamous Opera Ghost.
It worked beautifully.
Word of mouth grew and more and more flocked for guided tours below the five cellars. Money began to return and with it, the satisfaction that he had fooled them yet again.
But, for all that, he was still empty. He had a large home, eight rooms, a full library, a music room with a large, black lacquered piano. He had servants, loyal servants, yet he did not have the one thing he desired. He did not have Christine, his Christine.
She had left
He tucked the paper under his arm as he entered the foyer and went straight for the library. Throwing the paper on the desk, he removed his hood and cape, throwing them on the leather chaise before sitting down at his desk. In front of him on the large, ornate wood desk sat a stack of papers pertaining to the financial operations of the opera house. The latest was on top, thanks to Monsieur Bernard, who had them on his desk just after sunrise that morning. He picked it up in his hands and began to examine it when a knock came to his library door.
“Enter.” He spoke softly in reply.
The door opened and Erik did not have to look up to see who it was, it was his head maid, Emma. She paused at the entrance and waited for him to address her.
“Yes, Emma?” he still did not look up from the papers.
“Monsieur…. Messieurs Bernard and Mancia are here to see you.”
It was only then he looked up and grimaced.
Monsieur Eduardo
Mancia……
How that man irritated him so. A fellow investor, in fact, the only investor that knew of his true identity, his expertise and advice had been invaluable over the past several months as Erik slowly acquired more and more shares of the Opera House.
Other than that, Erik had no use for Eduardo Mancia. He was boorish, uncivilized, rather portly and was constantly either eating or drinking, leaving disgusting stains on his shirt, and food crumbs in his long, unkempt beard. Just the very sight of him made Erik blanch.
Sighing, Erik knew he had to let him in, but fully intended on raking Jules Bernard over the coals for such a breach of unspoken etiquette….he knew that Erik did not like Monsieur Mancia visiting his home more than it was absolutely necessary.
“Let them in.” he spoke to Emma and immediately noted the look of disgust on her soft features. He scowled slightly, “What is wrong?”
“Umm…Master Erik, Monsieur….” She started, looking back into the foyer towards Monsieurs Bernard and Mancia. A strong willed woman of fifty, it was not in her nature to be so apprehensive.
He waved for her to come inside the door, which she did, shutting it behind her.
“Now, tell
“Monsieur, you know how I feel about that….Monsieur Mancia….”
“Yes, I do, Emma.”
“He is…well, he has taken to physical advances toward Lacie.” She said softly, but firmly, not hiding her displeasure as she gestured toward the closed door.
“Lacie?” Erik scowled.
“You know, Monsieur….she is such a young girl, barely twenty-one, naïve and loyal and has not been here long. She did not know how to handle this….well, it was a good thing, Monsieur, that I happened upon him and pulled her away.”
“When did this happen?”
“Just a few moments ago, Monsieur.”
“And where was Monsieur Bernard?”
“He was at the carriage, settling the payment, Monsieur Mancia wandered off into the side garden where Lacie was cleaning the outside windows and….”
He held up his hand and said firmly, “Enough.”
She nodded in compliance.
“Where is Lacie now?”
“Cleaning the kitchen, I felt it best to keep her as far away from Monsieur Mancia as possible until his departure.”
“Very well. I wish to see Lacie later, but until then, inform her she has done no wrong and in the future, to always report anything of this nature to me immediately, or of course, to you. And never to be afraid of defying anything that Monsieur Mancia says or does towards her.”
“Yes of course, Monsieur.”
“Now, show them in.” He turned and walked back to his desk and sat down, tapping his fingers against the stack of papers, trying his best to determine how to handle what had just happened.
Emma nodded and in turning around, opened the door and gestured for the men to enter from the foyer.
Jules Bernard entered first with a soft nod to Emma, his face pale and apologetic, his mouth inaudibly speaking to Erik…..
Forgive me…
Erik returned the gesture with a shrug of disgust and motioned for Jules to sit down in the chair closest to the large window on the right side of the library that looked out onto the side garden.
“Well, well….Monsieur Renault!” the loud, rather snorting voice of Eduardo Mancia rang out as he entered the library, holding in his hand a large hunk of bread, half eaten as evident of the crumbs that lodged in his beard. “As always, your home has much lovely things to offer!” he grumbled as he popped Emma on the backside playfully. She gave a very noticeable frown, but said nothing as she exited.
“Monsieur Mancia, that will be quite enough!” Erik stood up and momentarily forgot his manners. “You were not brought to my home to accost my servants, nor to get your disgusting food droppings onto my fine Persian rugs!”
Monsieur Mancia stopped cold in his tracks, never being spoken to by Erik in that manner, the bread in his hands dropping to the floor with a soft thump.
Erik took a long, deep breath, glancing at Jules who seemed rather shocked, but amused at the sudden show of displeasure.
“Sit down, Monsieur Mancia and tell me what brings you here today.” He spoke more civilly as he sat back down at his desk, leaning back and folding his arms over his chest.
Grumbling slightly at the loss of his bread, Monsieur Mancia stuffed himself into the chair closest to Erik’s desk and leaned back, resting his hands on his large belly.
“Monsieur Renault,” he began, then
cleared his throat free of dry bread, “I am sure you read in the Époque today
that the de Chagny’s are due to return to
Erik gestured to the paper that lay on his desk close to Mancia, “Yes, I am aware.”
“I have returned from the Opera House and from an impromptu investor meeting….” Then he began to chuckle, “The investors have been given special seats at the opening performance.”
Erik’s eyes widened. This was indeed unexpected, but he couldn’t quite understand why Monsieur Mancia found it amusing.
He turned to Jules.
“Monsieur Erik…” he reached into his pocket and pulled out an envelope. He leaned forward and handed it to him, “it’s an invitation and seat ticket for the opening addressed to Monsieur Charles Renault.”
Erik took the envelope and sat it down without looking at it. “It is rather simple gentlemen, I shall not attend. I am an investor by proxy. I am sure an excuse could be made.”
“Oh, I am afraid not, Monsieur Renault!” Monsieur Mancia replied loudly with a deep laugh, “I have already informed them that you will attend.”
“And why did you do such an ignorant thing without consulting me?” Erik spat out, leaning forward on his desk and resting on his elbows.
Mancia did not flinch, his voice smooth and self assured, “Surely, you understand how important it is for all the investors to be there. Many of them are looking forward to meeting you as you are the majority shareholder, thanks to my guidance….and word has gone out to the de Chagny’s themselves….they wish to know of the new and generous benefactor who came up with the wonderful idea to hold tours while the restoration was being completed.”
Erik leaned back against the chair, rubbing his chin as he again glanced at Jules, who could do nothing but shrug his shoulders in defeat.
“Was that all you wished to tell me?” he said to him coldly.
“Yes, all that comes to mind, Monsieur.” He answered almost happily.
“Then do not let me keep you, I assume you have a carriage outside?”
“I settled the bill and he awaits us.” Jules spoke up.
“Emma!” Erik called out and within a few seconds, she entered the room.
“Yes, Monsieur.”
“Monsieur Bernard will remain with me. Please walk Monsieur Mancia to the door….and, if he behaves inappropriately, you have my permission to respond in any manner which you see fit.”
Mancia grimaced as Emma smiled and answered, “Yes, Monsieur.”
He then stood and nodded to Erik, “Until the opening then, Monsieur Renault.”
“Monsieur Mancia.”
Mancia turned on his heels and followed Emma out of the library, shutting the door hard.
Only when that happened did Erik finally lose his composure.
Chapter Two:
“That bloody disgusting piece of human filth!” he screamed, pounding his desk. “First he comes in here assaulting my servants, then he runs his mouth to Christine and her husband about me!”
“Monsieur Erik…they don’t know it’s you.”
“They will soon enough.” He sighed deeply, “Perhaps, there is a way to get out of this before the first of May…it is still two weeks away.”
Jules grimaced, “Uh…there is more.”
What?? What could be worse?
“Speak.”
“There is a cocktail party scheduled for Saturday evening, a welcoming for the de Chagny’s. The investors are also expected to attend. The invitation is in the envelope as well.”
That is three days
away….no….
“I cannot attend it, not such a small gathering. Seeing Christine again….”
“I know. But it is good business, you know that. You should go with someone…a nice lady. Perhaps one of your mistresses….”
He laughed to himself at the very notion. Bloody hell….none of my mistresses are nice
ladies….
“No…none of them would fit in with the type of gathering as this. I need….”
“You need a wife.”
Erik looked up, then laughed sarcastically, “Yes, a fine idea, go out and find me a wife, someone I can pass off as Madame Renault, someone who is not repulsed at this….” He gestured to his mask in disgust. “Like Christine was….like they all are.”
“Except your mistresses.”
“Only because they are paid….”
Jules stood then and approached the desk, “What is so wrong with finding a wife, I mean just a temporary one, for the sake of the de Chagny’s, and of the other investors? What a triumph it would be for you to walk in there, a lovely woman on your arm, declaring you are the majority shareholder of your own opera house, the one you built, the one they drove you out of!”
“I do not know….”
“It is only for two occasions, Monsieur, then you can remain private once more, if you so choose of course.”
Erik stood also, but not to argue.
“Very well. But, if I consider this notion, who do we find that would be willing to do this?”
“Leave that to me, I know of a couple of young women.”
“You do?”
Jules laughed again, “Yes, I knew you’d be willing to listen to reason, so I started looking around for potential single women.”
Erik shook his head, “Of course you did.
________________________________________________
Erik stood at the entrance to the kitchen, watching as Lacie was mopping the floor.
He observed her closely, admiringly.
No, she was not old enough, he thought to himself, not old enough to pass as his wife, although she certainly was beautiful enough. A poor, tragic child, she was found by Emma in the Parisian marketplace, having recently lost her father in a very sudden accident on their farm. With no money and no where to go, Emma brought her to Erik, who saw potential in her warm smile and big brown eyes. That was five weeks ago. Since then, she had worked for Erik like a champ, nothing stood unclean. If it did not move, she dusted it and a few things that did move… she also dusted. Everything was polished so bright, he could see his reflection. He was pleased and he smiled at her as she worked on her hands and knees scrubbing an already immaculate floor.
Clearing his throat, he spoke softly, “Lacie?”
She jumped like a skittish cat and flew to her feet, bowing, “Oh! Monsieur Erik!”
He laughed, “Hello, I am sorry to bother you while you are working…..”
“No bother, Monsieur. Would you like something to eat? I could make you anything you wished,” she began to nervously ramble, “although I daresay I do not see you eat hardly anything….that is not healthy, Monsieur, allow me to make you…..”
He shook his head and interrupted her, “No, I am fine, thank you. I wanted to see if you were alright, after what happened with Monsieur Mancia earlier.”
“Yes, I am fine, thank you.”
“Please tell me what happened, if you are comfortable of course.”
Again, Lacie laughed nervously, “I was cleaning the windows in the garden and Monsieur Mancia was suddenly there, behind my back….he tends to do that, or so I’ve been told by Emma…..and he was….touching me. I asked him to stop, that I was uncomfortable, but he was rather persistent.”
“Did you reprimand him in any way?” Erik asked, now leaning against the doorframe.
“Oh no, Monsieur! I did not think it to be my place.”
He smiled, “In the future, Lacie, you have my permission to do so, and report it to me immediately. I do not tolerate any inappropriate behavior among my employees, is that understood?”
“Yes, of course, Monsieur, and thank you.”
He nodded and with a flourish, turned on his heels and walked out of the kitchen, leaving Lacie with a bright smile.
That pleased him very much.
Late afternoon….
Jules Bernard stepped out of the carriage then turned and extended his hand. The young woman inside smiled, taking his hand and exiting the carriage as her eyes scanned over the large home before her.
Jules noticed, he noticed everything. He placed her hand over his arm while giving her a look of reassurance. “Don’t worry, this will only be temporary and it will be most profitable for you.”
She smiled at him and nodded, “Yes, I understand. It is just….well….I did not expect….”
“….the Opera Ghost to have such a luxurious home?” he finished for her as they reached the front door.
“Yes, I suppose so.”
Jules knocked on the door, “His underground home was just as extraordinary, just hardly anyone was allowed to view it.”
Emma opened the door and she smiled at Jules, then to the young woman by his side. “Hello, Monsieur Bernard….come in.”
“Thank you.” He replied, allowing the young woman to enter first.
She stopped cold in the large foyer which extended upward, showing the corridors of the second and third floors.
“Emma, this is Mademoiselle Durand…Danielle.”
Then he turned to Danielle, “This is Emma, Monsieur Renault’s head maid, she’ll take very good care of you.” He smiled at Emma.
“Nice to meet you, Mademoiselle Durand.” Emma nodded to her.
Danielle replied softly, “Nice to meet you.”
“Umm….Durand, the dress makers?”
Her eyes lit up, “Yes, my father owns the shop; I’m one of the seamstresses there.”
“What brings you…?” Emma asked, but a look from Jules stopped her abruptly.
“Please, let Monsieur Renault know we are here.” He touched her hand gently as to let her know he was not being rude as he was simply changing the subject. Erik would tell his staff in his own time about Danielle, and in his own way.
He stood close to the door as Emma knocked, then slowly slipped inside, while Danielle took the time to wander around the foyer, admiring the many paintings and framed theatre regalia.
“How do you like it?” He asked her.
“Extraordinary, Monsieur Bernard, simply extraordinary…..” she mused, her mouth wide open as she looked up and down almost every inch of each wall. He could not help but chuckle slightly.
A few moments later, Emma came out of the library and gestured at Jules, "Go ahead, Monsieur Bernard, I shall bring in tea."
Jules then looked over at Danielle and told her, "Wait here..." as he opened the door to go inside.
Erik sat back as he watched Jules enter his library, trying to hide his slight annoyance. He liked Jules well enough, but was not expecting another visit so soon, and without prior notice at that. "Jules, good afternoon. What brings you here?"
Entering timidly, Jules gave a slight smile, holding up a folder in his hand. "The latest numbers from today's queue, I thought you might like to see them immediately, as I was on my way home from there...." His tone was low and almost quivering.
Erik folded his hands over his chest, his eyes trained on Jules' behavior. He knew his employee well enough to know that something else was on his mind. The numbers were not the only purpose of his visit, nor the main one. He furrowed his brows slightly before answering, "I trust they are satisfactory?"
"Yes, Monsieur, most impressive." He approached and placed the folder on the desk in front of Erik to examine. "Opening night is sold out, and the next three night after is also sold out."
Erik nodded, then opened the folder, glancing briefly at the numbers neatly written out on the first page. Impressive, indeed. "Thank you, Jules, is that all?”
Taking a deep breath, Jules summoned the courage to reveal the true nature of his visit.
"Monsieur...."
A long pause falls.
“Yes? What is wrong?” Erik sat back and folded his arms over his chest.
Again, Jules took a deep breath.
"Monsieur....I know it is sudden, only having discussed the matter of you taking a wife only a few short hours ago.....yet....." he stops and gestures toward the door of the library, pulled to the frame, but not totally shut.
Erik suddenly felt a creeping sense of apprehension, knowing immediately, by Jules' glance toward the door, that another visitor was there, waiting to be introduced. He curses silently. "Jules, what are you saying?"
"I am saying, Monsieur, that I have brought you a wife."
Chapter Three:
Erik's heart leapt in his chest. He looked up sharply at Jules, his hand gripping his fountain pen. "You have brought me a wife", he stated incredulously.
He nodded slowly, not sure how this new turn of events would settle with his employer, yet, he felt he had no other choice, if he had waited....given Erik the chance to think about it....he would have backed out.
"I know that I should have consulted with you first, but as I said earlier, I had already found a couple of prospects."
Erik let out a large intake of breath, then nodded slowly. "I suppose I do not have a choice, I cannot very well leave a lady out there, waiting indefinitely", Erik replied.
Of course he couldn’t, but why did he feel trapped like the proverbial mouse?
"Of course, allow me to bring her in and make the introductions..." he went to the door and opened it and with a wave of his hand, gestured for Danielle to come inside.
Erik immediately sat up straight, clearing his throat. His hands moved up to slick back his hair, then he smoothed the front of his black velvet jacket.
Yet, he could not ignore the knot that was forming in the pit of his stomach.
Danielle walked inside, not hiding the gasp that escaped her mouth at the site of the spacious library before her, but especially the man who she saw sitting at the end behind a large desk. He was everything she envisioned, yet nothing like she'd expected. Covering her mouth, she looked over at Jules, who by this time was having trouble containing his amusement at her awestruck nature.
"Come inside," he prompted. "Don't be nervous."
Taking her hand, Jules walked her close to Erik's desk and said, "Monsieur, this is Mademoiselle Danielle Durand."
Erik then stood up and, walking around his desk, stepped closer to the young lady before him. He took her hand in his, immediately noticing how delicate it was, yet the skin was slightly rough.
The hand of a worker.
He bowed his head, his eyes taking in her appearance. "Mademoiselle Durand, it is a pleasure to meet you. Welcome to my home. I am Erik Renault.”
Danielle was again awestruck by his height as he stood before her. Tall herself, taller than most women her age....or so her father had told her....she rarely encountered men who stood over her, until today.
She bowed slightly at the waist and replied, her voice trembling with nervousness as well as her typical shyness, "Thank you, Monsieur Renault."
Then her eyes darted downward, unable to look at him any longer.
Erik's apprehension slowly faded away as he watched the slight blush forming high on her cheeks. This lady was not used to meeting new people, especially not men. He found her shyness charming.
He glanced down at her peach colored gown, adorned with lace embroidery and silk ribbon. It was meticulous and clean, the material of good quality. Yet, she was not a woman of society, it was easy to see. He narrowed his eyes, completely leery, yet completely intrigued.
He cleared his throat again. "Please have a seat, Mademoiselle... and Jules". He gestured to the two seats in front of his desk.
He then walked back to his own chair.
Danielle glanced over at Jules, who gave her another reassuring smile, and with that, Danielle sat down in the chair, knowing they awaited her to do so. This pleased Jules.
At least she understands some social graces… He said to himself with relief.
Erik settled in his chair, crossing his long legs, resting his hands on his thighs. "Mademoiselle Durand, I trust that Monsieur Bernard explained the purpose of your visit this afternoon?"
"Yes, he did, albeit rather briefly, Monsieur."
Erik glances at Jules, then back at the shy lady sitting directly in front of him, waiting for her to say more, but she didn’t. He noticed that she was beginning to relax slightly, though her demeanor was still shy and reserved. "Then you know that I am in need of... a wife," he hesitated. "If you agree, you will be well compensated for your efforts. I will require your service twice, and twice only. Do you have any questions?” He stared at her, waiting for her reaction. The blush was still there and he was sure she had not move an inch since she sat down.
Tons of questions came to mind, yet Danielle could only shake her head, remaining silent, feeling her cheeks blush even more as she kept her eyes on the mask. It was just too much to take in and she felt every bit the coward for not speaking up.
Would she know how to act in a social environment? Would she be too embarrassed to reply when spoken to? Perhaps it was too much for her; she seemed overwhelmed as it is.
Erik continued to regard her for several seconds, hoping that she would at least utter one word, but she simply remained there, blushing, silent.
And she was looking at his mask.
…studying it.
Jules looked back at Erik, then at Danielle. This was certainly not the talkative woman he'd encountered in the carriage ride over. She'd suddenly lost all of her nerve.