Page 65 of Angel's Flight

The first door was a bedroom with all the furniture covered in sheets.They looked like shrouds – ghostly, sad things – and Meg guessed that this was the late Philippe’s chamber.The next room was practically empty, save for a bed that was half disassembled, and the next door was locked.

The fourth door she tried was the powder room, and it was impressive in its size and appointments, but Meg ignored it for the door next to it.It opened to a room that smelled of perfume and femininity.

“What are you doing?Who are you?”a female voice demanded from the bed.Meg froze as a woman rose from behind the curtains of the canopy and came around to confront Meg.

“I’m sorry!I was looking for the washroom!”Meg stammered as she looked the woman over, taking in every vital detail.She looked like a darker, colder version of her brother, this Vicomtesse.

“Who the hell are you?”Sabine de Chagny hissed, pulling her robe closed too late.

“I’m Meg.I was returning a watch to your brother that I found in the Opéra.It was your brother’s – other brother’s.God rest his soul,” Meg said all in one breath.

“Get out of my room and out of my house, little rat,” Sabine growled.

Meg rushed down the stairs to obey.She found Blanche and Raoul still in the office, with Blanche leaning towards the Comte in a way that someone might find seductive if they were lacking their spectacles.

“I’m ready to go!”Meg said as she grabbed her friend.“You have our reward?”

“I do,” Blanche grumbled, fighting Meg’s attention.“But we can stay!”

“We will talk some other time, Mademoiselle Carcaux,” Raoul said with a tone and expression Meg couldn’t discern.“Good day to you both.I trust you can find your way out.”

“We can,” Meg smiled and dragged Blanche to the front door through the sad, empty hall.“Goodbye!”

As soon as they were through the gate, Blanche shook her off.“What is wrong with you?I was having a lovely conversation.”

“I didn’t bring you here to flirt.”

“Yes, you brought me here on the promise of five francs and good gossip.One of which I now have and will be keeping.”Blanche jangled the coins in her hand.“Now, where is this scandal I was promised?I didn’t see anything of immediate note.”

“That’s because you didn’t see the sister.I did,” Meg smirked.She wondered if it was a useful thing to tell Blanche what she had confirmed for Shaya.It would cause a scandal indeed, and the family would know exactly what the source of the rumor was.It was risky, but if Sabine was already using a married name, this was why.

“What’s wrong with his sister?”Blanche pushed, and Meg exhaled.Better to know where a fire started if she was going to watch the flames.

“Nothing is wrong with her, she looked quite healthy.I’m sure her baby will be healthy too.”

London

Christine had not wantedto dine alone.Alone, of course, was a relative term.Letitia had been there, and Adèle, and a score of other people in the smoky pub, but it had left Christine feeling alone because Erik had not been there.She didn’t blame him, of course; it wasn’t the sort of place he enjoyed.It was too loud and packed too close.She wouldn’t have wanted him to come, but she had still been left offended to be in a crowd alone again.

Letitia had sensed her melancholy and engaged her in conversation.Perhaps it had been loneliness that had made Christine mention the things she had and therefore learn more than she could have imagined.There was no unlearning it, however, and now, here Christine was, walking back to their room at the Reubens with a fire in her brain and something altogether unexpected in her hand.

Erik had also wanted to stay back because he had fallen into a new fixation in the last few days.Christine didn’t understand completely why he was so excited about the English texts of electricity and currents that he had acquired, but they had engrossed him for days.Christine wasn’t sure, but it seemed to be his method of coping with the continued limbo they found themselves in.

It had taken Christine a while to not take offense at the way Erik’s mind would put its entire, impressive power behind one new pursuit or obscure idea.She had become used to being that idea, but even a man who loved her as much as Erik couldn’t keep his focus on her entirely every hour of every day.Nor should he have to, Christine told herself as she rushed quickly through the lobby, holding her shawl in front of her to conceal her dangerous prize.

Tonight, she wanted to be that obsession again.She wanted to feel – or more accurately, be reminded – that his devotion was hers and she could make his attention hers too.If she could get up the spine for it.She was still unsure, but her discontent was morphing into need that pushed her along, all the way up to their room and through the door.

Erik had not budged from his chair by the hearth, the only change in the way she had left him being that some of his books had moved.

“Did you even eat?”Christine asked without ceremony when he looked up at her.He was wearing his old, white mask.He did that when he was alone in places like this, where some maid or concierge could come in with a key.It made him feel safe, but it made Christine sad that he needed it.

“I...don’t think so,” Erik answered, and she could hear his brows furrowed in contemplation even though she couldn’t see them.“We did have a large lunch.”

“You would die without me,” Christine sighed.“Not from a broken heart, but of starvation.”

“It could be both.Did you enjoy your evening?”

Erik had not noticed her shawl, which was good, and Christine exhaled as she set it on a chair near the bed.

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