She opened the door, and was greeted by a throng of admirers clutching flowers and waiting eagerly. "Oh, my," she said, pleased and warm, but very, very aware of a barely tangible shift in the room's mood behind her.

Raoul pushed past her. Blocking the door, as if to keep the others from seeing into the room, or, perhaps, seeing much of Christine, he turned toward her. "I shall bring my carriage around and come back for you shortly. Shall I call someone to help you change?"

"No… no, thank you, Raoul, I shall be able to take care of it myself."

He closed the door and she was alone.

And then she realized that she wasn't. "Madame Giry?"

"You did well tonight, Christine. But he will not be pleased if you neglect your rest in favor of social activities." Madame Giry had moved behind her and was working quickly at the buttons that lined her spine.

The heavy costume fell away, and Madame's warm hands moved over her shoulders and down her arms to push the silk to the floor. "Take care not to anger him, Christine. His wrath is not to be borne. Are you certain it is wise to go with the vicomte?"

So Christine's worry that her angel would not be happy to know she already had an admirer was correct. "But… I must eat, madame. And he is nothing but an old friend, and the brother of the new patron. It can only be good for the success of the theater if he wishes to dine with me."

Madame's face, aged but still beautiful, turned hard with concern. She bent close to Christines ear, her breath warm and moist, sending prickling shivers along the edge of her neck. "Have a care, Christine, for as his pupil, you have the chance to be great, with or without the favor of the patron's brother. If you please him, you will be cared for beyond your imagination. If you displease him, his wrath will be immense. He is brilliant and kind, but he is selfish and would not be willing to share you. Note well what I say, Christine. With him as your tutor, you need not worry about finding a protector, as the other girls do."