A/N: I forgot to mention that this story will be based more on the movie info than the book.

As Claire sat down to breakfast the next morning she quickly discovered that none of the other servants had heard about her incident the night before. They all acted kindly towards her, and even Claude was nice enough to give her a second helping of eggs. Over the next few days Claire kept to her chores and far far away from the piano room. As soon as the sunset she would return to the servants quarters not wanting to run into the Master. On Sunday, two weeks after she had arrived, Claire went to morning mass at the church with the other servants. Once the service was over she and Liz explored the town, it being the first time Claire had spoken with people outside of the manor since she had arrived. That night Claire went to sleep, feeling that at last she could start her life anew and forget the past.

"Claire!" Claude called to her.

She looked up from her mopping.

"Yes?"

"When you are done here go and clean the library" he ordered.

She quickly finished cleaning the floor and headed up the stairs. Grabbing hold of the smooth brass handle she swung the large oak door open. Claire had never seen one person own so many books. There were shelves upon shelves of books towering to the ceiling. Gazing at the titles Claire soon realized that the Master owned books on every imaginable subject, science, history, art, astronomy, magic, religion; the list went on. Although she was filled with the desire to sit down in one of the plush leather chairs and read she quickly pushed the feeling aside, grabbed a cloth and started dusting.

Claire had just begun scrubbing the floor when she heard the door open. To afraid to look up she kept her eyes on the floor. It was only when she heard the door close softly did she dare to look up. Peaking up over the table she was surprised to see the Master still in the room, his back to her as he searched for a book.

"Have you seen Plato's Republic?" he asked quietly without turning around.

Claire got up and began searching the shelves behind her. She pulled out a beautiful leather bound book with gold etching on the spine.

"It's here" she said nervously walking over to him.

As she approached he did not turn around.

"Maybe he's not wearing the mask" she thought.

She extended her shaking arm to hand him the book. In a swift movement he took the book and grabbed her wrist at the same time. Claire drew in a shaky breath. She did her best to hide the fear in her eyes and was certain that he could hear her heart pounding in her chest. Erik pulled in her in so that his face was an inch from hers. She tried avoided his eyes, but when he gave her another tug she was forced to look up.

"Why did you lie to the servants?" he asked angrily.

Claire blinked in confusion.

"You are obviously not from the Loire Valley and are clearly NOT a servant girl" he continued, a cruel smile appearing on his lips as he uttered the last phrase.

Her mind was frozen. She opened and closed her mouth but no words came out. Claire closed her eyes, too afraid to look at him anymore. Her breath came out in raged gasps. He tightened his grasp on her wrist and twisted it a little. Claire winced in pain.

"Well?" he asked.

She was left with no choice but to tell him the truth, knowing that she could have thought of a good lie anyways. He released her wrist and she nearly fell to the floor. Glancing over at her pail of water he motioned for her to continue to clean as she told her story. He followed her across the room and sat in the chair closest to her so that she was forced to scrub the floor at his feet.

"I told the servants I was from the Loire Valley because" she paused to take a deep breath, dipping the cloth into the soapy water. "because if they knew that I was from Paris they would have teased me and not spoken to me. Rural servants never like servants from the cities."

Looking up she was relieved to see that he appeared satisfied with her answer. Several minutes of silence passed, and Claire could feel his eyes boring into her.

"How did you get tickets to Don Juan?" he asked finally.

Claire could tell from the tone of his voice that he had been debating with himself whether or not to revisit this subject.

"My father" she closed her eyes and took a calming breath.

Erik tilted his head, now very curious.

"and some of his business associates shared a pair of season tickets. They divided them up" she wrung out the cloth, "so that each family was able to go and see 3 or 4 performances a year. I was just lucky…" she stopped.

"Lucky? God, what a stupid thing to say. Only my friends thought I was lucky.."

"…enough to get to see that show" she finished quickly.

"Lucky?" he asked, now looking both angry and amused.

"Damn, he picked up on that!"

"Well" she scratched her head. "I had heard rumors that something…um…out of the ordinary might occur at this performance."

"Like what?" he pressed on.

"Bloody hell, he's going to make me say it isn't he."

Claire bit her lip and stared hard at the floor.

"That the opera ghost might make an appearance" she said in one swift breath, failing miserably at trying to sound calm.

"And did he?"

Claire wanted to fall through the floor. Suddenly she felt a wave of frustration come over her, she had had enough of this game.

"I think so" she said shrugging causally. "But I was a bit distracted by the chandelier falling."

Her last sentence had come out harsher than she had meant it too. As she continued to scrub the floor she failed to see the smile that crossed Erik's face.

"This girl has some spirit in her, she's brave but foolish" he thought to himself. "though very smart."

He still could not tell if her answer had been directed at him or if she was just tired of his questions. Erik was frustrated that his questioning had not worked, still unsure if she knew his true identity.

Another ten minutes passed in complete silence. Claire glanced up to find him deep in thought. She smiled to herself, proud that she had been able to stump him.

"Why did you run away from home?" he asked finally.

Her head snapped up at the very personally question. She gave him an odd look, knowing that this was not a usual question to ask a servant.

"My father…two weeks after…" she could not find the words.

Tears stung her eyes and she willed herself not to cry. Erik shifted impatiently in his chair. Suddenly the words just spilled out of her. It being the first time she had told her story to anyone.

"My father died two weeks after the performance of Don Juan. My mother married a year later" she said bitterly. "My step father and I…" Claire chose her words carefully. "We did not get along well…and so I left."

She looked up to find Erik gazing down at her with an amused look on his face. Erik could tell from the look in her deep brown eyes that his smile angered her. She thought that he saw her as a spoiled rich girl. As she locked her gaze with his, a stony look came across her face, completely devoid of emotion. Two could play at this game. Erik's smile widened as he realized in the candlelight that she was really quite beautiful when she was angry.

Her smooth tanned face was framed by straight light brown hair. The plain blue dress accentuated her thin curved body and was cut just low enough to reveal the top of her well developed breasts. To his delight Erik noticed that her fists were clenched in frustration and anger. He had the sudden urge to grab her and kiss her, but quickly dismissed that thought from his head.

"So" he said slowly, savouring her anger. "You gave up everything, your comfortable middle-class life in the prime of your youth to become a rural servant girl in a far away manor?"

She shrugged and nodded.

His face softened, surprised by how quickly she had been able to confirm that.

"You are brave" he said kindly, the cruelty and sarcasm gone from his voice.

Claire looked away, surprised by the complement. The hint of a smile passed across her lips.

"People do what they have to do, but thank you" she replied in a whisper and giving him an admiring look.

In a flash the cold look returned to his face and she looked away. Without another word he hauled himself out of the chair and headed towards the door. Opening it he turned back around and said with a cruel smile, "oh, and Claire, don't even think about reading any of the books."

A/N: I will write more soon. Thanks so much to everyone that has reviewed.