An American Home

Plans In Motion

February, 1877

Paris

~*~

“What do you mean you've arranged to sing in America?”

Passing her little daughter over to the waiting maid, Christine de Chagny faced her husband. “Darling, I haven't arranged anything,” she answered, her tone appealing. She reached up and put her hands on his chest. “Your brother has. He told me of the state of our affairs, and I wanted to help in anyway I could.”

“Then, why not sing here in Paris? Or even London?” Raoul demanded. “Why must you cross an ocean?”

“Philippe inquired on my behalf,” Christine told him. “Even with the travel costs, the money I will earn for a few months of appearances in New York City will be nearly triple anything Paris and London would offer.”

Shaking his head, Raoul looked away. “I don't like this,” he said. “You should not worry about money, Christine. It is my responsibility to care for you and our family. I would have figured something out. Eventually.”

“I have no doubt of that,” Christine assured him. “But I can help, Raoul. Let me do this. Let me get our money problems out of the way. And then, I will happily retire from the stage once more. I would much rather be a mother and wife than a star.”

Heaving a sigh, Raoul pulled his wife close and kissed her. “I do love you,” he whispered in her ear. “Anywhere you go, let me go too.”

“Love me. That's all I ask of you,” Christine responded with a smile. “In any event, Meg will have a chance to see her mother. Madame Giry is in New York, you know. It will be an opportunity to see old friends.”

“You should have spoken to me first, but I can't see any problems with this plan,” Raoul told her. “Your voice will astonish a whole new audience.”

Smiling, Christine moved to her piano. “I must practice,” she said.

With an understanding nod, Raoul left the room. He smiled as he heard his wife begin to sing. There was no doubt she still have the voice of an angel. The smile faded as Raoul remembered his older brother's meddling.

“Philippe!” Raoul called out, determined to bring his brother to task for his actions.

~*~

New York

Ahmir Khan stood outside the Academy of Music, that served as New York's opera house. He had spent weeks searching for his target, only to come up empty. Beyond the attendance at the New Year's Ball, he hadn't seen anything of the couple. No one knew a thing beyond that Erik Ombra was an investor and supporter of the opera house, who greatly desired his privacy, although many had good things to say of the man.

It wasn't what his employers wanted to hear. Arden's message had made that perfectly clear. The man and de Chagny wanted absolute proof that their nemesis was in New York. And they'd set a time table: they wanted to know before April when Viscomtess de Chagny would be singing at the Academy of Music. There was no stated threat for failure, but there was no doubt there would be consequences.

A small body slammed into him, making him stumble a step forward. “Opps, sorry, sir,” a young boy apologized instantly.

“Not at all,” Khan responded, but the boy hadn't stayed around to hear it. The boy, leaning heavily on a crutch, was hurrying towards the side entrance of the opera house, clearly late for a lesson of some sort. Though what sort of use a crippled boy would be, was beyond Khan's knowledge. Shaking his head, the man dismissed the boy from his mind and returned to watching the people coming and going. He was watching for one individual in particular.