A/N: Greeting wonderful readers! Here is the latest update of Claire's life. I had to rewrite this chapter several times because I wasn't quite happy with, but I think it's good enough to post, so here it is. Also, notes for reviewers are listed at the bottom of this page.

Chapter Four: Dinner for Four

When Claire and her father returned home that night, Andre turned to her and said, "By the way, I've invited Madame Asthore and her son, Aubrey join us for dinner."

"Oh," said Claire, as her father opened the front door, beckoning her inside. "Will they be by soon?"

Andre shut the door behind him, hanging up his dark coat on the coat rack. "They should be here at six o'clock. It's funny, I told her where our home was and she said she knew the place, so she didn't ask for any directions." he said cheerfully.

Claire glanced at the grandfather clock in their large living room. It said 'five thirty'. "You should probably get changed," Andre told her. "And wear something nice to dinner- will you?"

Claire nodded, climbing the grand staircase to her room.

When she finally came back down the stairs, she heard a pair of knocks at the door. She glided gracefully to the door, before Margaret could reach it, and carefully drew it open.

A tall prim woman with a cream dress stood at the foot of the door, accompanied by a tall young man with almost shoulder length light brown hair.

It was easy to comprehend that the two were wealthy, if not rich. Both woman and man were dressed in evening attire, and both held their bodies with elegant posture, just as Claire had been taught.

"Hello," she said politely, ushering them inside the warm house as the maid offered to take their coats. "You must be Madame Asthore?" the woman nodded graciously. "And you must be Aubrey," Claire said glancing at the handsome stranger.

"I am; and my guess is that you would be Claire?" he asked charmingly.

"I am," Claire smiled back.

"And of course even more beautiful than your father described," he bent forward, carefully taking her hand in hers, and placing a gentle kiss on its top.

Claire blushed, timidly. "Thank you," she added just as her father entered the room with a warm grin.

"Good evening," Andre said, entering the room. "You're both early."

"I thought we should be punctual," said Madame Asthore. "I hope you don't mind."

"Oh, no; not at all," Andre said with a smile. "Come, we will start dinner soon," he beckoned them to follow him into the dining room.

Madame Asthore was a beautiful woman for her advanced age. If she was anywhere close her father's age, Claire guessed she was in her mid to late forties. Her rich brown hair hung loosely in curls that bounced on her shoulders as she walked, and her lips were thin and the color of a pink rose.

Claire began to feel quite jittery by the time she sat down at the table across from Aubrey. It seemed the man couldn't keep his eyes off her, and though Claire always noticed him glancing at her face, all this attention made her slightly uncomfortable.

She felt incredibly shy under the young man's frequent gaze. Claire knew precisely why Aubrey was there- her father continued his search for Claire's soul mate, but Claire knew it would be in vain.

For the past five years Andre had played match maker, and he never was really good at it. Claire was lucky enough that her father would honor her with the right to choose her own husband, but he couldn't help but often offer suggestions.

Though the man loved his daughter dearly, he knew she was quite old to still be under his wing. He wished her well, in the care of another, for he grew wearisome from raising a child to adulthood, and nearly on his own. If he had one wish for Claire, it would be that she found a good, wealthy husband of high society, and that she'd abandon him to the peace and quiet of a daughterless household.

Madame Asthore wanted the same: for her son to marry a young, wealthy woman of high class background and upbringing. The woman had a strict taste for the plentiful women she offered her son, but as he once told her, he was in no way ready for marriage.

The man was young, naïve, and restless. All he had wanted to accomplish in a single day would be to kiss and hold the prettiest woman on the street.

Aubrey definitely was well known in the Opera Populaire, and such theatres around Paris, and he was known for his wit, dashing smile and looks, and most of all, his undying affection towards women.

His mother thought of him as beast that must settle; to be tamed by the most appropriate of women, and Claire was her next subject to offer him. To Mme. Asthore, Claire was a 'last resort'; the key to her freedom, and as all that her late husband left her was slowly waning in amount and size, Mme. Asthore wanted to bind her son in marriage quick, with a woman who would promise great wealth to the family.

Aubrey, though not thinking much of the Bonamy child at first, soon grew a liking to her; one not always offered by him to other women. There was something about how his mother first spoke of Claire to him, which forced him to think of the girl in a more serious manner; he was to think of her as a wife, not a mistress like he was used to.

He was sure it would not be, but what did his mother expect of him? Perhaps, he wondered. This is the woman who could tame my heart…then again, Aubrey didn't want to be tamed. He had everything he wanted; knowing little about the short income his mother was receiving. Though the woman held her head high, wore the most expensive of imported dress dined at the most beautiful oak table, and denied all the flying rumors about her expenses, she knew in her heart the money flow would falter; it was only a matter of time, and Aubrey was too proud to see it. Mme. Asthore often cursed the man for leaving her too soon, and with 'so little' to spare, but she knew cursing his name would do know good. The weight of the family's dignity, honor, and wealth rested upon her son's shoulders, and he didn't even realize it.

Throughout dinner, Aubrey hesitated not to flatter the pretty young woman before him. He praised her, a falling cascade of compliments drifted from his lips.

"My breath was nearly stolen away at the sight of you in that emerald gown. You must know how to wear a dress of such elegance…Claire, you do have such beautiful hazel eyes…"

Claire did not mind the flattery, and she felt her cheeks glowing red almost every minute, but also, her cheeks grew sore of all the bashful smiling. And of course, Madame Asthore never failed to submit a story to the dining table about the countless heroic deeds of her son, Aubrey. She seemed to be serving the boy to poor Claire on a silver platter; and she wouldn't take a 'no'. Claire did not appreciate the awkward feelings that flowed freely through her.

She felt as though she had to smile, she had to accept the flattering words of her father's latest discovery. She knew, just by the hopeful smile plastered on the man's face that her father thought the evening was going quite well.

"This young man's been around," Mme. Asthore said with a slight giggle. "He's worked as a banker, a salesman, an actor…He once worked at your famous Opera, Andre."

"Oh, really?" asked Andre with astonishment. He never had expected that.

"Yes," Madame Asthore said with a prompt nod as she cut into her meat with her knife and fork. "He has the voice of an angel," she chimed, gleaming at him.

"Well..." Aubrey grinned, embarrassed. "That was long, long ago," he assured everyone, and glared at his mother for bringing up such a raw topic to the table of flattery. "I have done much more interesting things..." he tried to lead his mother off topic, but she couldn't take the hint, nor realize the tension in her son's voice.

Mme. Asthore waved him off as he if he were talking like an idiot. "Nonsense, Aubrey. He and his brother spent his brother took three full years of their busy lives to take part in the many wonderful productions at the Opera Populaire."

"You're brother?" Claire asked, trying her best to sound interested, though the conversation had left her bored long before.

"My son, James," Mme. Asthore began, shaking her head with disapproval. Her thin voice filled out as she spoke in a much darker tone. "He didn't make it past his twenty fifth birthday," she gasped, as if she were about to faint.

Claire thought her exaggeration in tone was all too dramatic, though she did pity the poor woman.

Andre grimaced. "Madame, I offer you my deepest sympathies," he said, comfortingly.

"Thank you, thank you," the woman echoed. "That was years ago; but it still tears as my poor heart," she shook her head again, lowering her eyes. "And my poor Aubrey!" she raised her voice, glancing at her second son. "He- he was released from his duties there!"

"Fired?" Andre spat.

"Yes! And for what reason? None, I tell you- none!"

"Mother, please," Aubrey cleared his throat with mortification. "There's no need to bring this up now…"

"I think we should!" Mme. Asthore interrupted. "As long as I'm on the topic, I must say, it was a dreadful year for Aubrey. It happened just after his brother died…"

"I wasn't fired," Aubrey tried to correct her. "It was of my choosing to leave." He sighed. "But I was influenced to leave," he said, sounding more embarrassed than ever.

"Oh, yes," Mme. Asthore said quite curtly as she adjusted her seat at the table. "The mangers thought it was best for him to…take some time off after his brother's and father's death," she said. "Aubrey came to help me then, at the shop."

"Well that was thoughtful," complimented Andre. "Now, you say your husband owned a glass shop?"

"That is correct."

"Now, what else did your husband do- for I know you are quite a wealthy family, and with all do respect, I wouldn't imagine a business in glass ware would offer you much to…to spend."

"Oh, no, you're right, Monsieur," Mme. Asthore said briskly. "He was also a lawyer; he bought and ran the shop in his own time." She added a quick smile at the end of her statement.

Both Claire and her father had reason to believe not the entire story of how Aubrey lost his job at the theatre was being fully told, but they both hid their tongues in their mouths, and smiled politely.

Claire glanced desperately at the grandfather clock in the living room. She had to strain her eyes to read it: seven o'clock; and they were only on the main course.

Margaret seemed to be slow in the kitchen, but Mme. Asthore didn't seem to mind; it only gave her more time to brag about her son.

Aubrey leaned forward, beckoning Claire to listen to him. She leaned inward over the table too, following his gesture, not knowing why. "She could go on for hours," he said, jokingly.

"I would not be surprised," whispered Claire.

"Perhaps it bores you?" asked Aubrey.

"Oh, not at all," Claire lied quickly, falling back into her chair as she caught her father glaring at her for whispering at the table.

"Perhaps," Aubrey offered. "I could visit you in the theatre some time?"

Claire was slightly taken aback by his offer. "Of course," she replied. She couldn't admit she was looking forward to it; she wasn't. But then again, she wasn't about to admit to him that she was not interested either- especially with both adults keenly watching, like hawks stalking their prey.

Claire squirmed uncomfortably in her seat, but said nothing. After only a half an hour later, she finally hinted she was growing quite weary, and Aubrey politely suggested they take their leave- to Claire's surprise and relief.

She tired her best not to mix the feelings she had for his mother, with Aubrey himself, but she couldn't say she liked either of them very much. She watched in silence as he bid her farewell and left her house that night with his mother beside him.

Quite frankly, Claire didn't see anything special or eye catching in him at all. She had been with men like him before; charming, witty, handsome, rich, and over secure. Her father had always encouraged her to appreciate his type, but she never found she could- they were all the same.

Claire wanted something new, something different. She wanted to meet her soul mate confident that he loved her for her, not her wealth, and she got the sense that Mme. Asthore, and perhaps her son as well, did not care much for what she had on her mind, but what her father had in his account.

Marie Erickson: Thanks so much for the review. I'm glad you like Claire. I understand that there are plenty of Erik/ Christine 'people' out there, or Erik/Meg 'ppl', and I'm always glad when they appreciate my story. And I agree, Gerard Butler is an amazing Phantom. He's one of my favorite actors, and I love his voice! It gives me the chills! What's MOTN?

Masked Rose1205: I'm glad you like the story so much! I hope it will live up to your expectations in the future.

ScarletQuill: I like to call myself a creative speller. Lol. Thanks for the heads up on how to spell franks. I'll go back and change that later, but thanks to you, I won't make that mistake again (hopefully). Thanks for your review.

AngelofMusic45: I read your fic and I love it! Thanks for the review.

So, what do you guys think of Aubrey?Please continue to review everyone, and if you have any ideas, or anything, let me know. Thanks!