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The Silent Wish	By : LaurieBaker Category: M through R > The Phantom of the Opera > Het Views: 14629 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own The Phantom of the Opera, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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Their secret time together was nearing an end.

Aurora’s mind raced with unanswered questions, but she knew one thing for certain. She did not want to leave. She knew her duty and what her father expected of her. But she did not know how she would be able to let this man go. This mysterious man in the mask who had stolen her innocence...and now her heart.

The more time she spent with Erik, the more she was falling in love with him. While the attraction between them was undeniable, there were other things. The way he made her laugh with his wry sense of humor that he did not seem to even be aware of. The way his eyes lit up as he talked about architecture. The way he caressed the keyboard of his organ as he played his compositions. The way he gently held her hand as they walked along the banks of the Seine.

And there were times when he was so vulnerable and in pain. She felt like he needed her badly. And she needed him. Yet, he had given her no indication that he wanted anything more from her than these short passionate interludes. She did not blame him. After all, he had never made her any promises nor had she demanded any. They were never meant to be anything more than what they were now.

Even if he did fall to his knees with a wedding ring, she honestly did not know what she would do or say. Her heart would say ‘yes’, but there were so many impossible problems to face. He would forever be a wanted criminal living down underground. She would forever be an outcast, perhaps even disinherited if she were to become Erik’s wife. It would be so complicated.

Miserably, she began to pack her things in the small valise, even as she watched her naked lover sleeping peacefully in the big bed with the red velvet covers. But her soft footsteps made him stir.

“Leaving so soon?” he asked.

“I’m afraid I must if I don’t want to be missed,” she answered.

Holding her breath, she waited to hear him give her a reason not to go. Anything. But there was no sound save a sad sigh.

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Erik wanted to beg Aurora to stay with him. He wanted to make her his wife and spend the rest of his days lost in her sweetness. But he knew he could not force a woman to love him. He had learned that lesson the hard way. He could only take what little crumbs that she threw his way.

And he did not even know if he loved her. How could he know? What did he know of love, save his demented obsession with Christine Daae? His mother never loved him. His father never knew him. He did not know what love was supposed to feel like. All he knew was that Aurora was the first person who ever showed him true tenderness, whether in affection or in lust. She did not laugh at his tears but held him close, comforting him with all of her softness. If this was not love, it must be something close to it.

And if she did not love him, he did not want to know.

Despite the sordid circumstances of their first meeting and all of the carnality of their later encounters, there was a dignity about the time he had spent with her that he cherished. She saw him as a man and seemed to respect him as such. He would not lose that respect by groveling at her feet, begging her to stay. And he was afraid to see the look of remorse, disgust or pity in her eyes if he were to attempt an unwanted wedding proposal. He did not want to remember her that way. He just wanted to remember her as she had been last night with her eyes full of moonlight in the dark by the Seine.

There was a finality about their last kiss outside of the dance hall corridor. Yet neither one of them had the strength to say goodbye.

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When would people learn not to underestimate the Baron de Rothsberg?

Everyone had given him up for dead after his attack by the Phantom of the Opera, but they did not know the steely nature of the Rothsberg blood. When the rumors started to fly about just who was responsible for his strangling, he immediately hired a private investigator to look in on the matter. Granted, he could ill afford such a luxury, but his life was at stake. The detective found nothing at all about the Phantom. The Baron was not surprised as he had more or less expected that. But his man found out a good deal about Aurora Sorelli...enough to knock that ice princess off of her pedestal permanently.

First of all, three days ago, Mademoiselle Sorelli had left her home with her father instructing the coach to go to the hospital. But instead, she arrived at the Paris Opera House. After a short sojourn to her father’s house, she went back to the building and had not been seen for several days since.

The Baron very clearly remembered that the man who attacked him wore a mask and was undoubtedly this Phantom that everyone was talking about. He recalled his words, “Nobody takes what belongs to the Phantom and lives to tell about it.” He had taken nothing from this Phantom. Damn, he had hardly even heard of the fellow since he had been away in Germany for so long!

Yet, with this new information regarding Aurora Sorelli’s behavior, things were starting to make sense. And the picture was not a pretty one for Aurora...not a pretty one at all. Such deduction allowed for the Baron to plan accordingly and take the next step in his plan to gain his fortune for he had that bitch right where he wanted her.

As soon as he was released from the hospital, he paid a call on Mademoiselle Sorelli. After all, he looked none too worse for wear, merely having to hide the burn marks and bruises on his throat with a high collared shirt and an ascot.

When driving about the park in his carriage, once more he gave her a chance to accept his marriage proposal with a modicum of dignity. As soon as he had once again asked the question, her eyes turned as cold and hard as stone.

“Please, Basil...I have not had sufficient time to even consider your last proposal.”

“I disagree,” he retorted. “You have had several days to think about it. The fact of the matter is that you do not want to marry me. What is wrong with me, Aurora?” he asked pointedly. “Am I not attractive enough or wealthy enough?”

Aurora Sorelli began to pout, obviously taken aback by his abrupt questions.

“I do not like being interrogated, Monsieur Baron,” she sniped, deliberately looking away from him and paying an unusual amount of attention to the greenery surrounding them in the park. “You are a perfectly fine gentleman,” she continued. “But I have reasons to believe that we would be an incompatible match. Please do not question me further on the matter for I should like to keep my reasons private.”

At last, he could come in for the kill. And he absolutely gloried in it.

“What a self-righteous little whore you are!”

Aurora’s face turned ashen as she gasped and looked at him as if he had gone mad.

“Take me back to my father’s house at once!” she cried in outrage as she moved so far away from him that she could have fallen out of the carriage. “I will not be insulted in such a manner!”

“You shall be insulted in any way I choose, my dear, especially when you are my wife!”

Her eyes narrowed like a little hellcat’s.

“I will rot in hell before I shall ever consent to be your wife, you cur!”

“Will you?” the Baron asked pointedly. “Shall we put that to the test, Mademoiselle?”

“Oh, what are you prattling on about now?” she said dismissively. “I believe you’ve gone mad!”

“You are the one who is mad if you think that I shall be fooled by your little charade any longer,” he said, tiring of toying with her. “I know all about you and your Phantom lover...”

Her eyes widened at his accusation and she looked like she was going to faint.

“You shall agree to be my wife and you shall tell your father such else I shall not hesitate to let the police know that you are no better than an accomplice to a criminal,” he threatened. “Your reputation will be shattered. You shall be disinherited. Your bandit lover will be deservedly hung on a gibbet for the monster that he is. So you see, my dear Mademoiselle Sorelli, it would be in your interest to say yes to my proposal once and for all.”

Her back straightened with pride.

“So you are so craven that you have to stoop to blackmail to get a woman to marry you?”

“You are the last person to lecture me on morality, Mademoiselle. You have lied to your father repeatedly. You are having wicked assignations with the most notorious man in Paris! What do you think your father would do if he found out about what was going on underneath his own nose?”

She said nothing.

“Do not misunderstand me, my dear,” the Baron countered. “I care very little about who you have chosen to spread your thighs for, my dear. But your little tryst is over now for I shall not be a cuckold once we are married. If you comply with no more trouble, I am prepared to forgive you for your whoring. All I want is the Sorelli fortune along with one or two little family heirs. And, my pet, you will give those to me.”
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The Silent Wish