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A New Beginning	By : Lum Category: M through R > The Phantom of the Opera > Het Views: 5783 -:- 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
- 5
- 6
- 7
Disclaimer: Please see the prologue

A New Beginning

Chapter 5

Meeting

Her father was like a giant boulder on this subject of marriage, a gargantuan obstacle that held steadfast and dense. He refused to listen to her pleas, her short bursts of anger and her fits of melancholy.

She had decided that since none of her words could move him to pity he would receive no more questions or answers, hellos or goodbyes, not a single phrase, word, or letter. All in all she simply decided to never speak to him again for as long as she lived, or until he finally came to his senses.

When asked at dinner to pass the salt she acted as if he had never uttered a word, she looked past him when he walked by her in the hallway and she turned her cheek when he attempted to kiss her goodnight.

He was saddened by this but refused to give in to her childish behavior. Madison passed the days by keeping herself busy, refusing to dwell on this particular dilemma. She read and painted, went horseback riding through the edge of the mountain’s forest, anything so she would not have to think of her impending nuptials.

There were no concrete reasons for her skittishness about wedded bliss, merely a heavy dread that hung in the pit of her stomach. A husband would control her life and her body, if not her mind. It was not fair, many men remained happy bachelors and yet it was socially unacceptable for a woman to remain unmarried.

She feared her days of freedom and independence would end with marriage. A husband led to children and she was still unsure if she could risk it. Women often died in childbirth, her mother one of them.

The raging silence between father and daughter had gone on for two weeks when the inevitable happened. A storm had been rolling in from the north, a battering of torrential rains, booming thunder and streaks of angry lightning.

The storm lasted late into the night, a foreshadowing of irreparable change. It was still raining in the early hours of the morning when he arrived, an ominous shadow atop a great black stallion. The Arabian whinnied as a bolt of lighting flashed in the distance, the booming thunder following closely behind.

The horse reared back and pounded the earth as he returned, his rider gripping the reins. Erik led him forward, rain dripping rivers off his sodden hat and onto his cape.

The old manservant rose from his bed in a great rush as a great and fierce banging resonated through the halls to the small room off of the entryway where he slept. At first the old servant believed that the strong winds had blown the great entry door open. He opened the door as another banging thundered through the house.

______________________________________________________________________________________

Madison sat in the library, one of her favorite novels perched open in her lap as she surveyed the night sky. Summer storms were rare but fierce in the south, providing the much needed relief from the hot muggy days.

A bolt of lightning flashed by the window, soon followed by a horses’ cry. This in itself was odd because the sound was not carried from the direction of the stables. She rose from her seat to see out the large library window.

Craning her head she could just barely see the front of the house, another flash of lighting revealed the dark shape of a rider upon a great beast of a horse. The rider dismounted and walked towards the door.

Madison made her way quickly down the hall towards the front. Her corset had been bothering her earlier in the evening and as she was the only one awake at such hours of the night she had opted to be comfortable in a soft white muslin night dress and wrapper. The thin overcoat of the wrapper provided some amount of modesty, covering the thin material of her night shift.

The fabric rustled around her ankles, she hurried to the balcony that led to the front stairs as a fist banged loudly upon the giant oak door. Her dark blonde hair fluttered around her face, forgotten as the unruly locks escaped the single plait down her back.

She reached the end of the hallway in time to see the old manservant Brian open the door. Rain darkened the marble entryway as the storm gusted in as the rider, swathed in darkness, stepped over the threshold. In a bustle of activity the butler hurried to pull the door shut as it fought against the winds.

Madison could hear snippets of their short conversation, gathering that the stranger had asked directions in town and begun his way before the storm hit.

She knew there was little in the way of housing or shelter between here and town and that he had been forced to continue his journey in the pelting rain. The old manservant assured him that the master would not mind him staying the night and left to stable his horse.

She watched him as he surveyed the house, he was tall and broad shouldered, his damp clothing hugging his figure.

The stranger removed his hat, giving her full view of the rest of his features. She was curious as she examined him. A white half-mask hid most of his face, leaving only a teasing glimpse at his sensuous mouth and sharp jaw line. His dark hair was mussed from the wind, an effect that did little to dampen his otherworldliness.

“Traveler, to which house is your destination?” He jerked his head up in surprise to look at her, amber cats-eyes meeting soft-green hazel ones.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

Christine. That was his first thought. As he looked at the vision above him his weary eyes sharpened. No, not Christine. The eyes and hair were different, her face not as poetic and her figure not as small or slender. He stared at her a moment, entranced, her hair seemed to halo around her face, soft waves escaping their confinement.

The dim light provided just enough to see soft arms that rested against the banister or the stairway, to see the curve of her neck that disappeared into the fine white fabric, and just enough to see the soft swell of full breasts and hips through the thin material.

The fabric of her night shift rose and fell with the steady rhythm of her breathing. Erik noticed her studying him, her gaze wandering up and down his torso, falling on the mask in silent questioning.

She was a vision of lovely womanhood, a sharp reminder of what he could never have. Their eyes locked again, but this time his were guarded.

______________________________________________________________________________________

Madison regarded him thoughtfully, entranced and at odds. He brought a curious fluttering to her stomach accompanied by a delicious warmth to her cheeks. He was a striking figure, and when he answered she hardly heard the words for she was so wrapped up in his lovely voice. She shook her head free of the cotton that must surely have replaced her brain as she asked “I beg your pardon?”

“I am seeking the Swift household, mademoiselle. Do you know of its location?”

The fluttering in her stomach turned heavily, the flush fading from her cheeks to be replaced by a vague feeling of dread. “This is the Swift household, my father is Jonathan Swift. But for what purpose have you come here?”

“I am an architect and designer, traveling here at the direction of your father.”

The butterflies had turned to rock. She stared at him in wonderment and despair. Her hands clenched at the banister. Brian opened the doors and stared at the scene before him. “I see you’ve met the young miss, then. This way sir and I’ll have you settled in for the night.”

Madison gave a huff of disapproval and one last withering looks as she turned abruptly and stormed down the corridor to her bedchamber.

The manservant seemed puzzled and apologized to Erik as he led him upstairs to a guest chamber, “don’t mind the young miss, sir. She has not been acting herself lately. Here’s your room, sir, I’ll have cook send a breakfast tray up at nine. If that’s all sir?” Erik nodded his ascent and closed the bedroom door behind him. He would never understand women.

Author’s Note

This chapter was so exciting and nerve wrecking to write. Erik and Madison have finally met, too bad it couldn’t be love at first sight. I dare say she’s inclined to hate him in the beginning. In my mind that’s the best kind of love story, where the hero and heroine are stupid till the end and take forever to fall in love. Thanks to everyone for the reviews so far, I look forward to hearing what you guys think about this chapter.

Review Responses

1. To Marie. Thank you so much for all of your wonderful reviews. This story actually is on fanfiction.net too, a pg-13 version that will be toned down for more delicate readers. Thank you for pointing out the error about the corn field, it will be fixed. Your reviews are encouraging and I look forward to hearing more from you.

2. To NotScarlettOhara. Thank you also for your review. I realized that it would be a touchy subject for most to include any reference to slavery in my story but as this is a historical fiction it would have been remiss of me to wipe out an entire population's history, no matter how nasty it was. I tried to find an e-mail address but since you are not a registered author at aff.net this was the only way to respond to your review. I understand where you are coming from, I would just like to you know that it is not my intent to be bigoted or hurtful. Ummi will be an important character for Madison as she is the only mother-figure she has ever known. You have every right to be offended just like I have every right to write my story like I see fit. Although I have never been called "buckra white trash" before I will ignore such childish antics. Surely there was a better and more adult way of showing your displeasure? Such name calling should be left if High School. Thank you again for your response, I will be extra careful to make Ummi a well-rounded character and try not to play into stereotypes in the future.
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A New Beginning