Page 58 of Angel's Flight

“I received very good care from Julianne, but I’m too old for her.I knew it was time for a new start.Your departure was really what inspired me,” Adèle answered with a twinkle in her eyes.

Christine had never been entirely sure what had happened between Adèle and Julianne – brief love affair or a deep friendship.It wasn’t her place to pry, but if it had helped Adèle, she was grateful for it.

“Why London?”Christine asked.

“Why not?It’s quite the city, and so different from Paris.I needed a change.”There was sadness in Adèle’s eyes for only a moment.“And I had an excellent offer from the Opera at Covent Garden, thanks to a recommendation by Armand Moncharmin.The journey was a chore, however.”

They all sank into seats in Adèle’s well-appointed parlor as they relaxed into conversation.It was comforting to talk of everything and nothing – to hear the predictable tales of rivalries and affairs at the London Opera House that were so similar to what had gone on in Paris.

Adèle was doing well, receiving great acclaim by the audience, but had yet to be welcomed into polite society in the city – being a singer and French were two sins too many.Letitia assured her that it was of little import, and that she would see her acquainted with the underground of artists and creatives that she knew.Apparently, she had recently met a man claiming to be a sorcerer and member of a secret society of magicians, something Erik would be fascinated by, and she felt comfortable saying as much.

Soon enough, an hour had passed and it was time to go – at least for Adèle, who had to prepare for curtain.

“You will visit again soon?I’m free tomorrow,” Adèle asked as Christine rose.“Tell me all the things you can’t today.”

“I don’t want to take up too much of your time,” Christine muttered and received a gentle glare for her trouble.

“I want to see you here tomorrow, for luncheon.Bring your husband, if he can bear it.”

“If I can tear him away from whatever dusty tome or composition he’s engrossed in, I shall.”

“Good,” Adèle said, and pressed a friendly kiss to Christine’s cheek.“I’m so glad you are well.”

“And I you,” Christine said with all the sincerity she could muster.She was grateful, truly, for old friends and new.It made her feel like more of a complete person to go out and about, even as, at the same time, it made her eager to get home to Erik.

Home was a strange thing to call their rooms in the hotel, but as she had sworn to him and kept reminding herself, there was no home for her but him.

Paris

“How many more churcheswill we be going to?”Darius demanded the moment Shaya stepped into their flat.He looked as frustrated and exhausted as Shaya felt, which was saying quite a bit.“I’m one more record room away from converting.”

“No luck for you either?”Shaya sighed.Perhaps it had been a stupid idea to look through parish records for any note of a marriage between Antoine de Martiniac and the mysterious Madame that had hired men to spy on Shaya and traipse around Europe hunting a ghost on the same person’s whim.

“None.She could be lying, whoever she is,” Darius offered.

“If my hunch is right, then she’d want a paper trail, at least to give things legitimacy.”

“What sort of things?”Darius asked with narrowed eyes.“I know there’s something you’re not telling me.”

“It’s just a suspicion.I might not have seen what I thought.I can’t always trust these old eyes,” Shaya muttered.“But if you insist—”

The revelation was cut off by furious knocking at the flat door.Shaya and Darius exchanged looks before his former servant answered it, perhaps out of habit.

“Who are you?Where is—” Meg Giry demanded as she craned her neck to look into the flat.“Oh, there you are.I’ve been knocking on doors and I think I may have upset one of your neighbors.”

“You were following me?”Shaya balked, more impressed than annoyed.

“Well, you haven’t contacted me at all since I solved your case!”Meg cried, entering without invitation as Darius stepped back.

“The case, as you call it, is far from solved,” Shaya stammered.“And I was allowing you to observe goings on at the Opéra.”

“Someone stole money from the box office,” Meg sighed, much to Shaya’s surprise.“It’s apparently been going on for a while in small amounts.”

“Armand would have told me about that,” Shaya said, more to Darius than Meg, worrying what it meant that he hadn’t known about it.

“He doesn’t know!One of the clerks has been trying to have an assignation with an alto from the chorus – which says a lot about him – and he ran to her today in a panic over the discovery and I heard it all.”

“And that’s what you ran here to discuss?”Darius asked, garnering Meg’s attention once again.

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