Page 102 of Our Strange Duet

I glanced again at Raoul’s door, indecision twanging within me. Impulsively, I broke away from the doctor and hurried down the hall. I entered his chamber without so much as a knock.

Raoul was positioned in the middle of his bed. A dark-blue cover had been pulled up over his bandaged chest.

“Mademoiselle!” the valet hissed. He’d been sorting through a tray of bottles on Raoul’s bureau, lining them up in neat order.

“I’ll only be a moment,” I promised before leaning over the side of the bed.

Despite all my time spent at Raoul’s town house, I’d never been in this bedchamber before. It was done up in dark greens and an even darker wood grain. I was touched to see the little tintype photograph we’d taken together at a studio along the boardwalk positioned on his bedside table; it must be the last thing he studied each night before turning in.

I picked it up, admiring the pretty gold frame. Though taken only months ago, the picture already inspired a feeling of sentimental nostalgia.

“We look so young,” I whispered to Raoul.

He didn’t stir.

Dark circles lined his closed eyes. I’d never seen him look so exhausted.

I glanced back to the tintype, studying our faces. We did look young then. Young and blissfully unaware of all the woes coming our way. I wished I could slip back through time and somehow warn us of the approaching danger.

Don’t return to Paris, I’d say. Stay away! Stay away!

Beneath his mound of eiderdown blankets, Raoul shifted, stirring as if in a bad dream.

I pressed a quick kiss to his forehead, willing him to wake up and smile. I’d give anything to see him smile again, like that picture from the boardwalk, so pure and radiantly hopeful. I’d cherish that smile, that hope as I should have. I’d protect it and keep it safe.

“Miss Daaé, please,” the valet insisted. “Dr. Auberjonois was so adamant about his rest.”

I nodded to the man, then turned back to Raoul, leaning in close so that only he could hear my whispered promise. “Sleep well, my love. I’m going to take care of everything. The moment you’re up and ready, we are leaving here forever. Never again will we ever darken the door of the Opéra Populaire. We’ll be safe, together.” I kissed him once more, this time on his stubbly cheek. “Dream of me.”

Chapter 35

When the hansom cab stopped outside my apartment, the sun had not yet begun to rise.

The shadows thrown by the streetlamps were long and so dark I didn’t see the figure outside my door until I was almost upon them.

“Meg?” I exclaimed, alarmed to see her at such an early hour.

Her hair was mussed, and her eyes were rimmed red, as if she’d been crying.

“Christine!” she gasped, and rubbed her cheeks with trembling hands to smudge aside tear tracks. “I’m so glad you’re here! I know it’s early, but when you didn’t answer, I got so scared, and I didn’t know what to do.”

“What’s the matter? Are you all right?” I asked, fear staking my heart. I recognized the look of grief on her face. I knew it all too well, having seen it in my own reflections, and instantly conjured up the worst thing that could have happened for Meg. “Is it—is it your mother?”

She frowned in confusion. “What? No, no, she’s fine. I just…Could I come in?”

“Of course! Give me a minute to find my keys,” I said, fumbling with my reticule. “What are you doing up so early?”

“I haven’t been to bed,” she admitted. “I haven’t been able to sleep since—”

My door opened, and she hurried inside. She bustled about the apartment, turning on lamps and filling my kettle with water before lighting the stove.

“You’re coming home awfully early,” she said, holding up the still-lit match. “Or very late.”

“Late,” I agreed. “There was…Something happened to Raoul…” What had the physician called it? “An altercation.”

Meg let out a gasp and flicked aside the match as it singed her fingertips. “What happened? Is he at the hospital? Oh, Christine, how awful!”

“He’s fine,” I said, stepping around her to run a towel under the tap. “His doctor was able to see him at home, but I stayed until he’d been treated. I’m more worried about you.” I wrapped the cloth around her hand, cooling her fingers, and guided her to the settee. “You’re shaking all over. What happened?”