A/N: Thanks for all the reviews! I don't have a lot of work this week...so more posts will be coming soon!

"Claire! Claire, get up, or we're going to be late for church!" Liz cried as she tied her bonnet on.

Claire groaned as the door flew open and Rachel burst into the room.

"My goodness girl, you're not even dressed yet."

She grabbed Claire's corset and, shoving it over her head, began to lace it up violently.

Rubbing the sleep out her eyes Claire, gave a gasp as Rachel tightened the strings. She had been up late last night, reading with Erik. After her piano lesson, they would often go to the library to read or discuss a book. At first, Claire had kept to her room to read, but as soon as Erik realized this, he had given her permission to read in the library.

Over the last couple of weeks, Claire had developed an interest in philosophy and politics. However, the topics and books had become more difficult to understand, and Erik had taken it upon himself to explain the concepts to her. She loved it when he taught her; it was as if a whole new world was opening up right before her eyes. And yet, secretly, she knew it was something more. Although she would never admit it, Claire enjoyed being in Erik's presence. Somehow, he made the rest of the world, along with all her troubles, fade away.

Claire was shaken from her reverie by Rachel slamming her bonnet on her head.

"Ouch!" Claire exclaimed, rearranging it.

"Well, wake up!" Rachel snapped, but then her tone softened. "You've been staying up far too late, with him," she whispered. "It's not good, you know. He's not…" She paused, searching for the right word. "Normal," she said, tapping her head.

Claire rolled her eyes and grinned.

"Foolish girl," Rachel muttered, heading for the door.

"Hurry up!" Liz said, grabbing Claire's arm and dragging her out of the room.

Upon entering the church all, the servants took their usual seats near the back. The town was small enough to fit everyone inside the church, and since attendance was regular, people had quickly developed a seating arrangement.

Claire smiled as she picked up the bible in front of her and began to flip through it. She loved Sundays. Although she enjoyed the manor, it sometimes became dark and suffocating, and she enjoyed being able to get out, see people, and wander the town. It reminded her of her life in Paris, before things had gotten bad.

"Well, well, if it isn't Claire! Don't you just look stunning today!"

Claire blushed as a well-dressed gentleman sat down in the pew behind her.

"Why thank you Philippe," she said, half-sarcastically, half-truthfully.

"How have you been this week?" he asked, removing his overcoat.

"Very well thank you. And you?"

"Very well, but not as well as today," he said with a smirk.

Claire gave him a questioning look before turning back around.

"He's so handsome," Liz whispered in her ear. "I'm jealous."

Philippe was a gentleman who had just moved into the town and had taken an interest in Claire. He was polite, yet flirtatious, with soft brown eyes and hair to match. For the last three Sundays, he had escorted Claire, Liz and Rachel around the town after church. When the service ended he was prepared to continue their little tradition, offering Claire his arm and taking them to see the newest dresses that had just arrived from Paris.

Claire closed her book and tried to fall asleep, yet, despite her exhaustion, found that she could not. Her head swam with a thousand thoughts about life, philosophy, Philippe and her future. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to block out the thoughts, but it was useless. With a sigh, she threw back the covers and got out of bed. After wrapping a blanket around, her she quietly opened her door and stepped out into the hall.

As she made her way to the piano room she smiled, remembering all the times she had made this trip before. However, since Erik had begun to teach her piano she found that she no longer needed to come up and listen; she would now automatically hear the songs in her head when she lay down to sleep. She knew, however, that tonight it would not help. Upon reaching the top of the stairs, she heard a slow tune coming towards her. Then it stopped for a moment before starting again.

Perhaps I should knock and ask, she thought. He might get angry if I don't.

Holding her breath Claire gently knocked on the door. The music stopped instantly. Claire gasped, knowing that she had caught him by surprise, an incredibly rare event.

"Yes?" he asked, opening the door and looking frustrated.

Claire stepped back as he loomed above her. "I was wondering if it would be all right if I listened."

Erik gazed at her for a moment and Claire once again found herself lost in his eyes, all her troubles vanishing from her head.

"Yes, it would be all right," he replied softly.

He reached down and took her hand, gently leading her over to the couch. His hand felt warm, yet rough in her own.

Claire sat down and looked around. There were only a few candles lit, casting the room into shadows. Glancing at the piano, she saw that there were music sheets scattered about, and a quill and bottle of ink lay open on the top. The sheet of music on the stand laid half-blank.

He was composing, she suddenly realized.

She had been so distracted by the piano that she had forgotten he was still standing there, holding her hand. Staring up at him, she found that he was gazing down at her, a hint of a smile on his lips. Slowly, she pulled her hand away.

"Thank you." She smiled up at him.

Erik nodded silently and returned to the piano. Claire watched as he put his music away and pull out an old sheet of music.

"Oh, I'm sorry! I didn't mean to interrupt you."

"It's all right," he replied gently, not turning around.

He didn't dare turn around, for if he did she would have seen the tears that had come to his eyes. No one had ever been so considerate before; no one had shown such simple respect for his music. Instead he put his hands on the keys and began to play an old song.

When he finished he turned back to look at Claire. She was lying on the couch gazing at him, a look of peace and tranquility upon her face. Claire smiled kindly when she saw him look. Erik sighed. This was how it should have been with Christine, if only she hadn't removed his mask. If only, maybe…

Erik pushed the thoughts from his head by beginning a new song.

A few songs later, he turned around again, this time to find Claire sound asleep, curled up in the blanket. He gazed contentedly at her sleeping form for several minutes. She was beautiful in sleep, with her light brown hair framing her smooth tanned skin. At last he stood up and walked to the couch. He was about to pick her up when he stopped. Perhaps he shouldn't. What if she got scared or thought that he was trying to take advantage of her? At last, he decided that it would be best if he woke her up, although it pained him to do so, for she looked so peaceful. He sat down on the very edge of the couch and gently shook her shoulder.

"Claire. Claire," he whispered.

She stirred and opened her eyes. At first she looked frightened, but that quickly vanished when she realized where she was.

"You should go to bed," Erik said, standing up.

Claire nodded sleepily. Sitting up, she put her legs over the edge of the couch and slowly got to her feet. Erik headed for the door and she followed him.

He walked her all the way back to her door. Claire smiled at such a gentlemanly act, for it was not as if she didn't know the way. He stood aside to let her pass. Upon reaching the door, she turned around and looked up at him.

"Good night," she whispered.

She subconsciously opened and closed her hand as if to reach out and touch him, before quickly putting back at her side. Erik noticed and took a small step back.

"Good night," he said quickly, suddenly seeming very uncomfortable. With a quick nod, he turned on his heel and rushed down the hall.

Claire stared after him, confused. As she got into bed, she frowned. Closing her eyes, she let her thoughts begin to drift. She didn't know why, but she really wished that he had taken her hand, or given her a hug, or maybe even… and she fell asleep.

Erik raced back to his own room and shut the door, breathing heavily.

Control, control! he screamed to himself. The way she had looked at him, the way she had moved her hand… Erik had to get out of there before he did something... something irrational... like kiss her goodnight.