Spanish Angel (Phantom of the Opera)

Chapter 9

Author's Note:

Dear Readers,

Well, this is a very unexpected update on my part. I hadn't thought I would continue writing this story until I got back from camp. But, as it turned out, my characters had a mind of their own and they required I write. So, here y'all go!!!

Enjoy!

sarahlet2999

E-OC

"How is she?" Inquired the Marquis as he stood beside the pale Comte.

"The doctors are telling me to take her away when she wakes up. Take her somewhere to warmth. I'm afraid to take her though! She is terrified to stay but terrified to leave." Raoul leaned forward and brushed a blond curl from the face of his lovely wife. She was unconscious. There was no sleep for her, merely mindless emptiness caused by drugs.

"My last hope refused to help me." He whispered, clinching his fists until his nails dug into the palms of his hands, almost drawing blood. "He won't help." Lowering his head, he held his tight hands against his forehead. "I was so desperate, I sought the Phantom's help! He loved her and I had hoped..." The Comte trailed off again, his voice weak from exhaustion and lack of sleep.

"You went to that madman!" The Marquis exclaimed, surprised to hear of the great length his young friend was willing to go for the sake of his sick darling. The pale girl had done nothing to deserve such affection. The little time the Marquis had known her had only served to tell him of her goodness, not any virtues.

"Yes, I had no other options! But, he refused me." Raoul remembered Candela's request that no one know of her and he would keep his word to his former employee. She happy five stories below the Opera and though he didn't trust the ghost, he wouldn't put her happiness at risk. The girl had always been quite odd.

"I think you best take her away even if she doesn't regain consciousness soon." The Marquis stared down at the sleeping bride of his friend. "Get her away from this place."

"Do you think it can be done?"

"It must be done." The Marquis turned away and strode towards a window overlooking the gardens. "My cousin will be coming a week. With her will come some of her servants. It would be quite simple for us to take care of the town house for you. You may take your people with you and we shall care for it here."

Raoul hung his head and conceded. It was a logical choice. He would leave, taking his dying bride with him. Perhaps they would go to Spain. Or Italy! Somewhere warm with sea air to revive her. Away from the winter of Paris.

"We shall be gone before the week is up. She will get better. She must get better." Jules drew back to the doorway, preparing to take his leave.

"She will, Comte. She will. Now, forgive me, but I must go. I have a lunch date I mustn't break." Raoul almost chuckled.

"With that lady the papers have been talking none stop about? A Spaniard I believe?" The Marquis laughed.

"Yes, I have finally found a woman worth my time and effort. Perhaps, upon your return, I may introduce you and Christine to her."

"We shall look forward to the pleasure."

"And, I as well." With a nod, he left the room and returned to the front door where his carriage waited for him. Speedily they made their way towards the café Candela and he had previously arranged. When on a lunch date with a pretty lady, one must never be late.

E-OC

"Where are you going?" Erik demanded of Candela as she flitted around the living room in search of her gloves. She found the article of clothing before turning to him to address his question.