Ascent to Power

Chapter Seventeen
Dishonored Promise

A week of patiently waiting rewarded Raoul with one of Christine's letters. Taking the letter to his study his hands shook as he picked up the letter opener and sliced through the wax seal opening the envelope. The words began to swim in front of his eyes as he read. He had expected a love letter from Michael. Never would he have guessed it was a report from a detective. One obviously long in the employ of his dear wife. The detective had been tracking the man the opera house had known only as the Opera Ghost or Phantom of the Opera and personally by Christine as her Angel of Music.

Earlier in the day Raoul stole his wife's personal journal. His guilty feelings of prying on private thoughts he buried under his need to know how far Christine's betrayal had gone. Had Michael been her only transgression? The answers he could not get from the letter he would receive from his wife's own hand.

Having read both the letter and as much of the journal as he could stand without retrieving his firearm and killing his lovely unfaithful wife Raoul dropped both on the floor beside his chair. Michael had not been the first but according to her journal he had been the last. She seemed to have found some sort of comfort with him she could not find anywhere else. After the third man's name mentioned on the journal pages Raoul could stand no more. He had already known he would find Michael's name writen down in his wife's hand.

She wrote of her need to find her Angel of Music. She sought him out in men she took to her bed. For that short time she could pretend he was still with her and sharing her life. Each man had some aspect of her angel that drew her to them. She wrote of her struggle with her shame. She made no mention of feeling any guilt for betraying her husband or the vows they pledged to each other. The shame was not so great that she stopped her search. It did not keep her from another man's bed.

Raoul picked the journal up from the floor and setting the journal and letter in his lap, he dropped his head into his hands. Her voice whispered in his ear. The words were not for him. The name on her lips was not his. The night's of her slip in bed returned with the fury of a summer storms wind. Angel. The word sickened him. At the time he had naively thought she called him an angel having forgotten that was her name for the man who taught her from the shadows. Now he knew for certain she had been pining and fantasizing of making love to that demon below the opera. That was the cruelest blow of all. What sort of man could hold his dignity when the woman he loves calls for another as she lays beneath him in a passionate embrace? Not Raoul. Not any man Raoul knew would stand such disrespect and dishonor. No man wishes to be cuckolded by his wife but especially not with his dearest and oldest friend or a half crazed lunatic who lived for twenty years buried in the ground like a corpse.

Now Raoul understood her true reason for wanting to go to London. The detective had learned of Christine's angel's whereabouts. The fiend had escaped to England with a man named Nadir Khan and another known simply as Darius. He had lived there until recently. Now he was headed to America, his companions still at his side.

Raoul felt as if the past two years had been nothing but one huge fabrication of his mind. Had Christine ever loved him? Had he ever been more than just a safe place to hide while she gathered her courage to chase the man she truly wanted? A part of him wanted to hate Christine. He could not. Damn fool that he was he still loved her. He hated what she had done to him. He could not bring himself to hate her even if for a while he had convinced himself he did. His belief in his hatred had been the only way to withstand the agony he felt. It had been the only thing keeping him sane.

He was pathetic. Not only did he still love his faithless wife but he could feel sympathy for his onetime nemesis. Everyone had lost the battle that last night at the opera. Raoul had thought he had won. It had been a hollow victory. If he had only been willing to listen to Christine's anguished cries for her Angel with anything other than hatred in his heart he might have been able to see Christine cared more for her Angel than he imagined. Arrogance had served him a dish of betrayal. He had been so confident in their love he had brushed aside any possibility Christine held any real feelings of love for that man who lived in darkness. His mistake had been not speaking of the whole matter at the time when emotions were fresh. Honesty would have been more readily expressed when Christine's love had been torn between the two men in her life. Time had only afforded them the ability to bury the truth deeply in their hearts and minds.

The detective Christine had hired had been pursuing Meg in hopes of gaining information. Christine in her cunning knew Meg would not be able to keep information hidden. Her mouth worked faster than the telegraph. Meg was sweet and kind but had no sense of proper etiquette concerning private matters. Christine's detective, Stephen Harrison, had found a letter from a man named Erik Fontaine. The English detective hired by Christine had found the letter and read it. The words written confirmed it was from the man who had terrorized the opera house.

In the letter he sent his apologies to Madame Giry and Meg for destroying their home and taking away their livelihood. He hoped the money he sent was sufficient to tide them over for a couple of years until they could settle into new employment or start a dance school of their own. He had recommended the latter and asked that they let him know if further funds were needed if they opened the school. That letter was written over a year ago. Months after Meg's mother had moved to Italy Stephen had continued to court Meg. His persistance had paid off. A letter addressed to Meg's mother had arrived. The man was obviously not privy to their personal lives.

This second more recent letter told of his departure for America. No reason was given for the hasty departure. He simply stated he would keep her informed of his whereabouts through the post. With this letter he had sent more money. A third letter gave his destination as being headed toward the state of Virginia. It would seem even in a new environment that black hearted devil could not find anyone willing to put up with his murderous ways for any length of time. He mentioned no reason for this departure only that things were not comfortable there and Nadir wished him to agree to moving again. Since he had no great love for New York he was willing to relocate lock stock and barrel. Unlike his homeland, France, New York had no hold on him. Two years after leaving France The Phantom was headed for a place called Virginia, located in America.
Quite a generous bastard is our dear Phantom. One would think he had a heart under all the layers of deceit and murderous intentions. I must admit he did have the voice of an angel even if his soul was owned by the devil. I thought Christine was faking her passion the night of Don Juan Triumphant lulling him into a false sense of security. Now I know the passion had been real and if we had not been there she would have lain on her back and let him have his way with her. She would have given herself to that monster. My presence in the box by the stage kept her from forgetting her purpose. Ironic the box I claimed as mine had an equal claim by the Phantom. Box five, the box he demanded for his exclusive use. The decision she made in the deepest bowels of the catacombs was more due to the fact that the mob was close at hand than she chose me over him. She needed to retreat and hide away from further embarrassment. I have given my name to a woman who chose me for safety and propriety. She had written in her journal she loved me but I have a suspicion she has deluded herself to justify her betrayal of both me and the one who truly holds her heart, the damned Phantom. That man will more than likely plague me until the day I take my last breath.

Closing the journal and folding the letter he stood and went to his desk. He put the letter back in the envelope. He melted wax and resealed the flap. He then returned the now resealed envelope to the hall table. He ran upstairs and returned the journal to Christine's writing desk. He accomplished all of this without any break in his resolve to keep the hurt buried deep in the darkest corners of his mind. For a time at least. For the last few months they had been preparing to move to England. Now plans would without doubt be changing again.

Sighing heavily in defeat he returned downstairs waiting for his wife's return and wondering what lies she would concoct to get them moved to America instead of England. Raoul was really impressed with Christine's ability to manipulate and scheme. If she were a man she would fit in well with the world of business. Manipulating people to purchase things they do not need was a skill only a few possessed. Clever schemes were needed daily to move money from one person's hands to another to encourage investors to trust others with their fortunes.

He did not have long to wait for further proof of Christine's culpability. Two days after her entry into her journal of the news of her Phantom lover's whereabouts she sought Raoul out and began her new lie.

A sudden offer from America. The opera house in England had renegotiated the previous diva's contract. Christine was disheartened and could no longer put off making firm arrangements to return to the stage. She no longer felt confident in the London opera house. The offer in America would be a boost to her career. The war they were still recovering from had left few talented performers. This would be an opportunity to be in on the beginning of a new era. Her voice could rebuild interest in theatrical performances again. There was no formal offer but she was sure if she were present and could demonstrate her talent they would be glad to have her perform.

Even if she did not get the position right away they could still make this their second honeymoon. Maybe think about a baby. Six months ago Raoul would have been overjoyed with the prospect of having Christine with him on a second honeymoon. The mention of a baby and he would have been jumping to the moon in the joy of anticipation of a son or daughter. Now the news felt flat. Rousing himself he tried to show the proper amount of enthusiasm. It was hard but he managed to fool Christine.

Raoul listened to all her many reasons for making this change of plans. As she told lie after lie he wanted so badly to tell her he knew Erik was in America. He knew of her duplicity. Looking at her he could admire her beauty but the tenderness and feelings of love although not diminished they were buried beneath so much anger and hurt they may never resurface. Or at least buried deep enough to temper the pain. In their place lay the bitter aftertaste of betrayal. His solicitor had recommended playing along for a while gathering evidence. The two weeks Jonathan meant for him to spend watching Christine had come and gone many months ago. Now he watched for the moment he could expose her in the most hateful and hurtful way. In front of an audience of adoring opera fans appealed to him. What better way to humiliate her? His humiliation had taken place in front of over a thousand theatre patrons. Her shame should at least equal his. He could wait.

He laughed quietly to himself each night when she gave her pitiful excuses to avoid sharing their marriage bed. His disgust and disillusionment made her pitiful attempts to avoid his touch laughable as he would never lay a loving hand on her again unless he could ever begin to forget her betrayal. If the time came and she grew suspicious about his lack of ardor he had plenty of ready excuses of his own. He was even willing to fake the inability to rise to the occasion in order to further his plan.

They had an unspoken understanding that no mention would be made of their marital situation. Even between the two of them they did not openly admit any trouble in their marriage. Silent endurance was the order of the day. Every day. Christine had asked for time before intimacies be resumed at one point. Suposedly their relationship was on the mend. Who knows, if they had opened up to each other they might have been able to salvage at least a friendship. Raoul was too proud while Christine was too confused about her feelings. As it was they barely spoke to one another. When they did it was brief and quite terse at times. Almost hostile at least on Raoul's part. Christine was so oblivious to all that went on in her own household she did not even notice how cold he had become or seem to hear his snide remarks when speaking to her.

Raoul learned there was no end to Christine's selfishness and devious deeds. A few days after Christine announced her plan to go to America the post brought an unexpected letter.

Raoul had just finished breakfast when the maid brought in the days mail. There were a few periodicals and some letters concerning business matters. At the bottom of the pile there was a pale pink envelope. He turned it over and saw that it was from Meg Giry. Christine had not heard from Meg in months. He was shocked when he recalled it had been over a year since he had spoken to Meg or her mother. With his marital concerns he had neglected to keep his promise to watch over Meg.

The last time they had lunch in Paris with Madame Giry, Meg and a new man Madame had become acquainted with. That had been shortly after he and Christine had gotten married. Raoul could not recall his name. Meg had been quite excited he recalled to have a gentleman courting her mother. There had been talk of Madame perhaps moving to Italy for a time to pursue the possibility of taking over the position of dance mistress at one of the smaller opera houses in Milan. She would travel there and look into the job situation for her and Meg. Meg would be staying in Paris in the interim.

Eventually Madame Giry had married that man becoming Antoinette Mercer. Meg had not wanted to move with her mother so she had stayed behind. Meg wished to stay in Paris to enjoy her independence. Madame had asked both Christine and Raoul to keep an eye on her. They had both assured her they would see to her safety. Raoul had meant to honor his promise to keep an eye on Meg. He had allowed his marital problems to distract him from all moral obligations.

Now Raoul recalled it had been his urgings to Meg to come stay with them not Christine's voiced that day. Raoul and Christine had only been married for a little over six months at that time. Meg had declined Raoul's invitation to stay with them while her mother was away stating it would be easier to look for work in Paris than in the rural countryside. Everyone could see the logic of that so it was left with Meg staying in Paris with the understanding if she needed anything at any time she was to contact them.
Regretfully both Raoul and Christine had neglected Meg over the last year and a half. Raoul had only seen her one other time since the lunch with her mother. An uneasy sence of doom curled around inside of him. What had his negligence caused?

Instead of being addressed to Christine his name was written in the spot where the recipients name should be. Raoul had met Meg only on a few occasions. He could not imagine what she could be writing to him about.

About six months ago Raoul and Christine had been on their way to dinner when he had remembered his obligation to Meg. They had stopped at her apartment to ask her to join them for dinner. Meg had gone reluctantly. She had lost a lot of her vibrancy. She had moved to a cheaper apartment in order to save her dwindling funds. She had assured them a job was just around the corner. Raoul had so many troubles of his own he had forgotten about his promise to Antoinette. Well not forgotten just pushed it to the back of his mind.

If he had been paying attention he would have known all was not well with Meg. She had looked pale and frightened when Raoul looked back on the meeting. Her usual talkative nature when among friends had all but deserted her. She had hardly said a word. Raoul had asked her if she would feel more comfortable living with them. She had looked to Christine before she had answered. She would be staying on in Paris. If she were careful she had enough money to last many months. The opera season would be in full swing long before her money ran out.

Raoul took the mail to his study. He sat everything on is desk except for the letter. He slit open the flap of the envelope with a letter opener. Removing the paper from inside he began to read Meg's letter. With each sentence his anger grew. The disappointment and despair rang out clearly in every word. An innocent young woman suffered because of Christine's callous behavior. A woman she was supposed to regard as her sister. Would there be no end to her treachery? Was she willing to trample on all the people who loved and cared for her? For his part in Meg's hardship he would forever hold the blame in his heart. He had dishonored his word. He had let his problems distract him from his moral obligations. A young innocent had suffered because of his neglect. He was shamed as he had never been shamed before.

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