A/N: Thanks to linalove, AngeliqueBouchard1972 and dionne dance for reviewing! :) Sorry if this sounds a little rushed, please let me know what you think!

Angelique barely managed ten stitches before her mind began to wander again. The little bird on her linen was nearly complete. It was only missing a claw and it made her wonder what it would be like if it was alive. Would it have that wonky wing, a missing claw and lopsided eyes? Or would it be perfect? It would be such fun if she could have it as her own little pet, something to keep her occupied during the long, lonely days when all the servants were working. Yes, it would be lovely to have to have such a bright bird as her own. It could sing for her and she could teach it to do little tricks like the Collins' dogs. She would have to give it a name, maybe something like Marlène or Sèraphine, meaning to –

Angelique was jogged out of her daydream by the sound of tiny flapping wings. Looking up curiously, she tried to find the source of the noise, but was confused when she found that there was nothing there. Sighing, she realised it must have just been her imagination going overboard and went to go back to work.

Except that, when she looked down, needle poised to finish off the bird's claw, she got the biggest shock of her life. There was no work to go back to. Laid on her lap was the scrap of white linen, but there was no bird embroidered on it. In fact there was nothing at all. It was as though she'd never stitched anything!

A shrill tweet had her looking up to the eves once more. There, she got another big shock. Something her eyes had somehow missed a moment ago. A fiery coloured bird was hovering near the ceiling, one wing slightly bent, with a crooked eye and only one claw.

Angelique gasped. The needle dropped to the floor. What was going on? How had that happened? She hadn't done anything! She couldn't be… no, she definitely wasn't one of… them. They were evil; burnt at the stake for spreading their sin around the world. It had to be the thread. The vendors must have been selling it off cheap because it had magical qualities and no-one would buy it. Maybe her mother hadn't realised. Yes, that was what it was. The thread. Not her.

Suddenly, as she watched, entranced by the delicate creature suspended in the air, it wobbled. And again. Angelique stood up, her eyes fixed on the little thing. It looked like it was going to fall; like it couldn't keep its strength up anymore. She couldn't let that happen. It was her fault after all. Then it did fall, circling around and around as it dropped, chirping desperately. The young girl jumped forward, hands outstretched and landing on the floor with a loud crash. She winced at the sound, but she'd caught it. The bird was safe.

Tentatively, she opened her hands. The little thing looked a bit shaken with its feathers all ruffled, but, thankfully, it was unharmed. Angelique smiled, admiring the glossy crimson feathers as it lay in her palm. But then, all of a sudden, it seemed to realise where it was and started to struggle to get up.

"Hey, shh, I'm not going to hurt you," the child murmured, but it seemed it wasn't like in the fairy-tales she'd been told. The bird didn't listen, and eventually, after straightening itself out, it took off, heading for the open door.

"No! You can't go that way! Angelique cried frantically. She couldn't allow anyone to see it! What would they say to seeing a red and yellow songbird? One who was missing a claw, had one eye lower than the other and a wing at a weird angle?

Quickly, she jumped up and ran for the door, shutting it just in time. However, the bird only twittered and darted the opposite way. Angelique realised too late that her mother had left their small window open and the bird flew out before she could do anything, leaving her standing there in dismay. A part of her felt sorry too, for it would have been nice to have a little secret and to have looked after it all by herself. Who knew how long the bird would last out there in the cruel world?

Then her mind turned back to reality. She looked back at the linen on the floor. What was she going to do now? How on Earth was she going to explain the disappearance of her sewing? There was no way to explain without getting herself into a lot of trouble. The only thing she could do was start something new. She still had a bit of thread left and she could only pray that her mother didn't question it, even if that was highly unlikely.

However, it was the only thing she could think to do for at least then she could show that she'd done something that day. Her mother would be furious if she thought her daughter had done nothing useful all day.

Hours later, she'd started the head of a cat, using the red thread for the eyes, mouth and little button nose and yellow for its fur. She was just about to start the inside of the ears when the door opened. Looking up, Angelique saw the familiar shape of her mother in the dying light. She quickly sat up straight.

"How have you got on?" she asked, coming over to inspect her daughter's work for the day. "What happened to the bird?"

"I… it…" Angelique stuttered, avoiding her mother's eyes. Her gaze came to rest on the tiny fireplace, where the fire had long since gone out. "It went wrong and so I burned it." The young girl regretted her words as soon as the housekeeper's eyes narrowed to slits, but it was too late now.

"You. Did. What?" Her eyes scorched through Angelique. "You really think we can just burn things regardless? Do you know how much that piece of linen cost me?"

"Désolée maman."

"And for goodness sake, parles l'anglais, you stupid child! We are not in France anymore and it would do you good to remember that. Now, tell me where you got this linen if you burnt the last piece."

"I… I found it under my bed. I think I split one piece in half a while ago because it was too big," Angelique lied.

"Well, for being so wasteful with burning your last piece, you can go to bed without any supper."

"But, maman–!" the young girl protested. This wasn't fair, she hadn't actually done anything wrong!

"Don't argue with me, Angelique. Now let me see this sewing before you get ready for bed." She snatched the linen off her daughter's lap and immediately frowned at it. "Dear Lord child, can't you get the eyes level? It looks ghastly! And where is the cross stitch I asked you to practise?"

The young girl's heart sank. In all her excitement that morning, she hadn't done it. She'd forgotten.

"You are a disgrace! Go get ready for bed. Now!" she added when her daughter didn't move.

Angelique nodded meekly and did as she was told, washing and changing into her nightgown as quickly as she could.

She looked down when she saw that her mother was waiting for her when she came out of the bathroom, standing with her hands on her hips impatiently.

"Good, now go to sleep. I'm going down to eat with the other servants and you'd better be asleep when I come back up, understood?"

"Yes, maman," the young girl murmured as she climbed into the hard and uncomfortable bed.

"Goodnight." Lucille blew out the candle her daughter had lit earlier and shut the door on her way out, plunging the room into darkness, but Angelique knew she would not fall asleep. She could tell it could only about six o'clock. She normally didn't go to bed until eight or nine at the latest. There was no way she could get her brain to switch off so soon.

So instead, as she lay under the thin covers, her mind wandered back to her earlier thoughts. She was going to do it. She had to get out of this room somehow. To have a few hours freedom. However, she needed to explore the house without being seen by anyone, and when could she risk never being seen? At night? When her mother was asleep? She would only be a few hours, back in bed long before anybody woke up.

Yes, that's what she'd do. Starting that evening, every other night she'd wait until her mother was asleep and then sneak out and explore every nook and cranny of the house. Angelique smiled in excitement. It seemed she was getting her little secret after all.