chamber to herself, jewels… a man who could walk the streets in the day, and escort her to parties and soirees and to the shops in Paris… a man who did not let fear make him cower in the darkness for a decade?
The cheese crumbled in his fingers, scattering on the floor before him. It would be much easier for Christine to choose a man of light. Better for her. What sort of future could she have with a man who remained in the dark?
'Stop it, Erik,' Maude snapped as though reading his mind. 'You have come too far to give it up now. I vow to you, she is the stronger of the two of you at this moment-much to my surprise. I thought she would be wailing in the corner, frightened like a little kitten-but no, she is determined to do what she must until you can come for her. She truly loves you.'
Maude was right, of course, and he was annoyed with his momentary lapse. 'I know she does,' he said quietly, suddenly desperate for Christine. Erik forced himself to take a bite of cheese. It tasted little better than paper, but it was sustenance. And he trusted Maude like he trusted no one else, for she'd been as much of a mother as he'd had since his own had died nearly fifteen years ago.
It was Maude who'd helped him find sanctuary in the depths of the Opera House when he'd finally had to get away from the Chagnys. She had been against his love for Christine from the beginning; if she was supporting it now, it was the right thing.
Maude touched his hand; her fingers were warm on his skin. 'You've been so used to hiding from the
'But it has been ten years since he forced me into hiding-ten years of living underground because of something I didn't do. The images of the bodies of those three women-no, girls, for they could not have been more than fifteen-have never left my mind. It was abominable what he did to them.'
'What proof does the
Maude closed her fingers around his wrist, her touch so comforting to a man who'd had little affection. 'Strong in mind and heart, so strong in so many ways, you are, Erik… but one great weakness, one thing you haven't been willing to risk-your freedom, or going back to a life of ridicule, and loss of yourself. That's not so surprising, nor is it a great failing. Who among us would not do what we must to keep our persons free?
'You were young, then, remember, Erik? You could not have been more than seventeen, perhaps eighteen, when you had to take refuge. And what was your life like before then? Full of derision and pain… it's no wonder you made the choice you did. No wonder.'
'Even now, when the thing I love more than anything is at risk, I hide. I scuttle in corners like a beetle and rely on you to bring me news, and on you to speak to her, to soothe her.'
Maude looked at him, an unfamiliar glint in her eyes. 'Erik. Do you need me to tell you that you are doing what you can? No, I don't think so,' she said, shaking her head. 'I help you because I love you, and because I want you to have something
He had finished the cheese and now took a drink of wine to soothe his suddenly tight throat. No one had ever spoken to him with such kindness or confidence. 'Thank you,' he said, with a short nod. Then he threw off the mantle of doubt and darkness that had come over him, and put his agile mind to work.
'I know all of the ways to enter the chateau, but I'm certain my brother will be expecting that,' he said. 'He'll be watching for me. We'll have to find some way to get Christine out. Tell me… does she spend most of her time… alone? In her chamber? Or…' He took another drink of wine, his fingers tight on the smooth glass bottle.
'She dined with the Chagny brothers and the
'The moment Raoul's back is turned, he will do what he wishes.' Erik bit into the last of the bread. 'Christine must escape before then… There must be a time when Philippe will be busy or otherwise distracted from her presence.'
'I heard mention that he expects visitors tomorrow. Perhaps when he is busy meeting with them-'
Erik was already nodding. 'Yes, yes. That will be a good time. Philippe will make the grand gesture; he and Delia will dine with them… but what of Raoul? If he is there, Christine will likely be on his arm at the dinner table.'
'Raoul must return to Paris tomorrow morning, something related to his enlistment and upcoming voyage.'
Which meant that Christine would be without her protector. 'Then we must do it tomorrow,' Erik said. 'Do you know when the guests are to arrive?'
She was glancing out the window. 'Late in the morning, I hear. The
Erik nodded. 'Good. Raoul will be gone and that will make it easier. I'll need you to make a distraction that will call the guards' attention away from her escape-a fire in the bam would do it. The horses will be out to pasture, but the fire will be a threat nevertheless.'
'I can attend to that,' Maude agreed.
Cesar nickered nervously, his ears cocked and flickering, his feet prancing in the small cottage. Erik reached to pat him on the haunches. 'Easy, boy,' he murmured, wondering if he'd sensed a wolf. 'Take care on your return to the chateau; there have always been wolves about, and they have little fear.'
'I will indeed.'
He turned his mind back to the details. 'If the fire is begun in the stable during dinner, that will pull Philippe from his meal and his guests. Start it a quarter hour before the meal is to be served, back in the upper loft. By the time its noticed, it will be a full-fledged blaze. Have Christine slip from her room through the pas-sageway I told you of, and she can leave the estate on the south side, farthest from the barn. Cesar and I will be waiting there for her.'
'I'll do that.' Maude took his face in her hands, something she'd never done. Her fingers were cool on his bare skin and, on the other side, pressed the leather of his mask into his nerveless face. 'Have a care, Erik.'
He nodded, and allowed her to draw him into an embrace. 'Thank you, Maude. Thank you for all you've done.'
At the door of the cottage, he stopped her, listening. The faint rustle he thought he'd heard wasn't repeated, and after a long moment of watching and waiting in silence, and noting that Cesar remained calm, he said, 'Go now and beware the wolves.'
'Au revoir, Erik,' she said. And she was gone.
Chapter Twenty-one
'Christine.'
The sound of her name wavered through the lull of sleep, and Christine opened her eyes, her heart pounding when she realized someone was in the dark bedchamber with her. It was a frightening moment before she ascertained that it wasn't Philippe, or even Raoul. She smelled lilies.
'Madame?' Her voice was low by design and from sleep, but before she could say another syllable, a hand was pressed over her lips.
'It is I,