With a sigh, Henri accepted the glass that Erik offered him. “Its a bad business, to be sure,” the oder man commented. They were in the library at Rose Lodge. Crutchie and Pip had been sent off to the kitchen. “The de Chagnys have better things to worry over than whether or not you have a decent enough life.”

“And yet, here we are,” Erik responded.

“Well, I believe I shall be able to help you, at least as far as Arden is concerned,” Henri said decisively. “You see, he is wanted for murder.”

Sitting up straighter, Katherine frowned. “Murder?” she repeated, her tone shocked. “I mean, I can believe that he is capable of killing, but who did he kill?”

Henri sighed. “Your brother.”

Instantly, Katherine choked on the lemonade she'd developed a taste for during her pregnancy. “What? Pierre is dead?”

Her father nodded. “I will be the first to say there was no love lost between myself and my step-son, but the way he died...no one deserves that,” he admitted. “I'll spare you the gruesome details, my dear. Khan, actually, was the one to bring me the news. You see, I'd hired the man to find your brother on your mother's request. She did dote on Pierre. She did not take the news well.”

Breathing out, Katherine shook her head. “But why would Arden have killed him?” she asked, feeling a bit guilty that she didn't feel anything on hearing of her half brother's fate. “I thought they were friends.”

“They were, and there is no proof of what I suspect. I asked Khan to halt the investigation. Finding the killer wouldn't bring Pierre back for your mother,” Henri admitted. “Pierre was never himself after I threw him out, and he was only ever in Arden's company. Carlotta left him, you know. Because of his change in fortune, and because she learned what he'd done.”

Erik took up position behind his wife. “And what was that?” he asked.

“Killed Ubaldo Piangi.”

Swiftly, Katherine looked up at her husband. “He was jealous of the man, I know,” she said, her mind connecting the dots. “He was always backstage, trying to get Carlotta's attention. If he found Piangi unconscious, as Erik had left him, he could have seen it as an opportunity to finally have what he wanted.” She shook her head. “I can hardly my brother capable of taking someone's life!”

“Khan was certain Pierre had done it, just as certain as I am that Arden is behind Pierre's death.”

“If Khan is as honorable as you say, why would he accept employment from a man he knows to be a murderer?” Erik asked.

Sighing, Henri lifted his shoulders. “As I said, I requested him to stop, so he may not know.

“So if there is no proof, how will this help you?” Katherine wanted to know. “You know what Arden is capable of, Papa. I don't want to see you get hurt.”

With a chuckle, Henri caught her hand and kissed her fingers. “I have influence here, Katherine,” he informed her. “I've long done business with several men who live here. I will alert them to the situation, inform them that Arden is suspected of murder, and they will arrange his transport back to Paris.”

“You seem very sure of yourself,” Erik remarked.

“Arden has caused my family enough harm,” Henri responded. “I do not intend for him to continue doing so.”

“I find that knowing this about him only makes me more terrified of him,” Katherine admitted. She smiled as her husband squeezed her shoulder. “He is truly a madman.”

“My dear, with Erik and I to watch over you, Arden will not lay a finger on you.”

Leaning down, Erik kissed his wife's cheek. “You see, my rose, you have found your other way,” he said to her.

With a nod, Katherine forced a smile. Deep down in her heart, though, she was no more assured of her family's safety than she'd been before. She only hoped her father was right.

“Now, have you given thought to how long you will continue to wear the stage makeup?” Henri asked, nodding towards Erik's face. “I understand that it was because of Khan, and merely a way to throw him off his task, but you will not be able to just disappear again. Not after taking New York society by storm.”

Erik shook his head. “It had not occurred to me to think beyond protecting my family from this danger,” he answered.

“Well, you ought to,” Henri told him. “There will be long term effects of this masquerade you've been playing.” He drained his glass of its contents. “I'm impressed with work you've done with my businesses here in New York, Erik. Your eye for detail is astonishing. I look forward to overseeing the details with you.”

“I am at your disposal.”

~*~

Late that night, Katherine awoke with a start from a nightmare to find herself alone in the bed. Taking a deep breath, she rose and pulled her dressing gown on. She walked for the door as she tied the ties around her waist. The moonlight was the only light she followed as she moved through her house, her steps silent on the floors.

She paused at the door of the music room, and then decided not to disturb her husband if he were in there composing as he sometimes did. Instead, she made her way to the library. There, she bent to light a candle and held it up to examine the books that lined the bookshelves. Lightly, she ran her fingers along the spines of the volumes on the fourth shelf up.

When she reached a small, untitled book, Katherine slid her fingers to the top and pulled the book halfway from its place on the shelf. To her right, a small section of the bookcase slid back silently, revealing the hidden tunnel beyond.

Casting a quick glance around the library, the pregnant woman moved into the narrow hallway. By the dim light of the candle in her hand, Katherine walked down the spiral staircase. She knew every step of the escape way she and Erik had both agreed upon, so it came as a surprise when she stepped on something at the bottom step.

Frowning, Katherine bent down and sighed when she saw the slingshot that lay there. “Pip,” she said, shaking her head. She picked the wooden object up and slipped it into the pocket of her dressing gown, intending on returning it to the boy with a stern lecture about being where he wasn't supposed to be.

“Crutchie won't be able to handle those stairs.”

Startled, Katherine turned to find her husband only a foot away. He was missing his dark wig, looking like the man she'd first seen in the tunnels beneath the Opera Populaire. “Erik, you startled me,” she said. She lightly slapped his arm. “Don't do that to me!”

“You should be sleeping.”

Raising an eyebrow, Katherine gave him a pointed look. “And you should as well,” she retorted. She gestured towards the rest of the tunnel with her candle. “Is everything in order?”

Carefully, Erik reached over at took the candle holder from her. “As it ever is, my rose,” he responded. “Why are you down here?”

Wrapping her arms around herself, the woman shook her head. “I don't know. I guess I wanted to be sure that the way was still clear,” she answered. “I don't like the thought that the front door and the kitchen entrance is the only way out in case of emergencies.”

“Your father's plan didn't calm you?”

“How could it?” she asked. “I've been in Arden's power before. I'm afraid my father is underestimating just how cunning Arden is.”

With his free hand, Erik reached over and pulled his wife close. “Madame Giry once described me as a genius,” he commented. “I think I'm a match for him. I outwitted the managers of the Opera Populaire and Raoul de Chagny.”

“Yes, and think of the destruction that was left behind you,” Katherine chided. She rested her head against her husband's chest. “I'm frightened. And this is all my fault.”

“I hardly see it as your fault,” Erik responded, stretching his arm out to leave the candle on one of the steps of the staircase. He then wrapped that arm around his wife's back and began to rock from side to side, almost as if they were dancing. He sang softly in her ear, “We love, we live, we give what we can give and take what little we deserve.”

“That's new,” Katherine whispered.

Resting his head on top of her's, Erik responded, “Something new I've been working on.”

“You deserve all the love I give you, and I'm happy for whatever you give me in return,” Katherine informed him with a yawn. “I hope I can hear the rest sometime.”

“Its time for you to be back into bed,” Erik informed her. He picked up the candle once more, and led Katherine by the hand up the stairs.

The library was as silent as before. Erik closed the secret door and then blew out the candle. Without a word of warning, he scooped his wife into his arms, bridal style. “Erik, I am capable of walking,” Katherine told him, even as she wound her arms around his neck.

“Hush.”

Heaving a sigh, Katherine rested her head against his shoulder. “We should ask Crutchie if he would like a proper name,” she said, thinking aloud. “'Crutchie' is hardly a respectful name, and I never stopped to think about whether he is offended by it. Remind me to speak to him about it in the morning.”

Erik made no response as he carried her up to their bedroom. He laid her on their bed and then slipped under the blanket behind her. He put his arm around her, pulling her close. He pressed a kiss against the back of her neck. “Good night, my rose,” he whispered.

“Sleep well, my love,” Katherine responded, her voice drowsy.