A/N: Hello again! For this story, I've taken a bit more liberty with the timeline, so don't expect it to follow either ALW's or Kay's version. I know this may be very seem similar to Under the Veil of Honorable Marriage at first glance, but it's not. All other characters in this story are original, so please don't snag them, k? This first, short chapter has been posted without the help of a beta, so if you find a mistake, please tell me in private, not in a review, thank you. I'll post more chapters in the next few days. I hope everyone enjoys it. :)

By Erik's Belle Noire

Disclaimer: I do not own any version of Phantom of the Opera...Leroux's, ALW's or Kay's. I've made no profit from this or any of my stories and nothing is meant to offend anyone.

"Money, dear lady." he answered placidly, taking the last sip of his brandy, "money can buy anything."

"Even true love?"

He paused, and set down his glass. Then with a chilling resonance that shocked even her now desensitized façade, Erik replied, "There is no such thing."

"You truly should take a wife." Lord Thomas Sutton stared down his nose at his business partner, Lord Frederick Renault, as his lit his pipe. "You are a man coming of two score, you have considerable wealth, you need heirs."

Erik Renault concentrated on the ledgers, writing numbers with his fountain pen, never looking up. "Yes, I know I should. Your wife has said as much to me over the past months. Pesky that she is, I know she is correct." He smiled dimly.

Thomas Sutton smiled back at him, knowing he was being far too polite. Yes, his wife Elizabeth could be quite persistent. "Nonetheless. I am sure there are plenty of fine young ladies here in the area, perhaps if you went to socials or to the theatre, anywhere but that stuffy office of yours, you could look for…."

"Who is to say I have not already?"

The more portly, auburn haired man, a good five years Erik's senior, stopped his rant cold when Erik looked up at him.

"What, looked?" he asked.

"No, found."

His eyes darted in confusion. "Who, where?"

Erik looked down at his ledger once more, "The daughter of Simon Hawkins." His voice was even toned, detached.

Thomas studied him closely as he tried to retrieve the name. He was usually good at names, but blame it on the hot August weather, he just couldn't bring recall the man. "Hawkins, Hawkins…I do not seem to recall a Lord Hawkins…"

"He is not a Lord, and yes, you met him. The overly tall, thin, gray haired American. He was dressed rather inappropriately disheveled." Erik spoke as he continued to write.

Thomas gasped, "Wait. Oh, the American…yes, the one that seemed so anxious to find you?"

"The same."

"Ah yes, now I recall the fellow." Thomas took a moment to inhale his pipe. "A strange one he was, at that. Yet, I was to understand that Mr. Hawkins traveled here alone this past month."

More writing from Erik, then, "He did."

"Then when did you meet the daughter?"

A pause, the pen slowing down, yet only slightly.

"I have not met her."

"What?"

Finally, Thomas' persistence caused Erik to cease the last few entries of his ledger. He sat his pen down, folded his arms across his chest and studied Lord Sutton closely, "I said I have not met her. I was told by him that she was a young widow of twenty-eight, a school teacher in Delaware."

Thomas threw his hands in the air, "Have you lost your good senses? Do you mean to tell me that you intend to marry a woman from America, sight unseen?"

"Yes."

"And one not even a maid?"

Exasperated, he replied, "Yes, Thomas."

"Why?"

Erik sighed and leaned forward, "My friend, if I am to marry, then I wish to marry with much haste, not bothering with the pitiful trifling of love and courtship that most younger, more innocent maids can bring. Simon Hawkins… a foolish man; he arrived in London with lofty dreams of wealth and instead, gambled away his family's savings. He was too ashamed to go home and face them, so he came to me for money, a loan. He had nothing to offer, of course. After speaking for a time, I learned of his wife, a son and only daughter named Isabella. Then the idea came to me. He said she was a mature, well educated, beautiful…."

"All fathers speak of their children being beautiful…"

That caused a momentary stutter, "Yes, very true."

"Have you even seen a photograph?"

"No, I have not."

He shook his head and said, "Continue."

"He agreed to give his daughter to me in marriage and for her dowry, I would pay off his debt, plus a little extra for his trouble, of course."

"When is this to take place?"

"Within the next month. He left a week ago to return and prepare his daughter for her travel here. She should arrive within the next couple of weeks. Louis went with him with the money to ensure she boards the boat and I am having Dùghall meet them when they arrive in Southampton."

"You are not going to meet her yourself?"

"No, I am rather busy with this new merger we are undertaking. I simply wish to get her here, marry her as quickly as possible and be on with my business."

"I am not sure how you expect to have heirs at that rate." Thomas snorted as he stood up, then leaned over to tap his pipe in the ashtray.

But Erik was steadfast in his resolve. "I do not need love to produce heirs."

Thomas slid his pipe in his pocket, walked to the door and said softly, "But it makes the production much more enjoyable." Then he left, sure Erik hadn't heard.

But he had.