A/N: This is nowhere near my best chapter and it will be edited! But I thought you would like an update after so long! I had really bad writer's block :( Anyway, please let me know how to make it better!
Also, thanks to Maricella and dionne dance for reviewing the last chapter!
Thursday came quickly and using Sèrpahine, her and Barnabas had reminded one another to meet down in the sitting room at midnight. All day, Angelique had been fidgeting with excitement and when her mother came back up in the evening to see how Angelique had done with her sewing, she was not happy by her progress.
"Angelique, you have done next to nothing!" she scolded. "What on Earth have you been doing all day?"
The young girl looked down. "I'm sorry, maman. For some reason, I have not been focused today. I don't know why."
The older woman rolled her eyes, but knew she could not punish her daughter for being a child and what the young girl had managed to do hadn't been bad at all. Not that she would tell her so, for giving a child like Angelique such compliments made her not quite so determined to do better. "Come on then, the others are already eating and if you hurry up, there might be enough left for you."
The young girl jumped off the bed, grateful that she wasn't going without her dinner and hurried out of the door just before her mother, just in case she decided to change her mind.
Dinner was the same as usual, the leftovers of the Collins' supper, mainly consisting of vegetables with a tiny bit of meat that had been clearly scraped off the bone. Although, she was lucky that she got any with her and her mother being the last down.
"How was your day then, Angie?" Martha asked as soon as her mother had disappeared to talk to one of the maids.
"It was alright," Angelique replied. "Same as always, but I wish I could do something other than sewing, I don't ever do anything else."
"How about I persuade your mother to let you come down here and help me a few times? It would be good experience for you if you are to become a working servant soon, even if you are a maid in the main house."
"I don't think she will let me. She wants me to learn to sew properly," the young girl sighed, pushing the last few vegetables around her plate. "She doesn't understand me."
"Your mother is a very hardworking woman, Angie. She is used to being strict with the other servants and she has a lot of responsibility. Sometimes, she is too hardworking and she thinks of you as just another servant whom she is trying to make as good as possible. She only wants the best for you, even if it doesn't seem that way most of the time." She came over to the young girl and placed a soothing hand on her back. "Your mother does love you, you know."
"I just don't understand why she is so mean to me. I try my best, I really do. I just want to play like other girls do, I want to have a doll and be able to run around on the streets like the ones I see out of the window."
She barely had time to put down her fork when Lucille's harsh voice cut into the room. "You are not a vagabond, Angelique, so don't say you want to act like one," she snapped and only Martha saw the hurt in the young girl's clear, blue eyes. "Come on, it's your bedtime. I expect a lot more sewing to be produced tomorrow than today and that won't happen if you're tired."
"Lucille, could I speak to you while Angelique gets ready for bed?" Martha asked as the girl got up and headed over to her mother.
The woman nodded curtly. "Angelique, go up. I'll be along soon," she ordered, watching as her daughter did as she was told.
Once out of sight from the kitchen, Angelique stopped and attempted to listen out for anything that would let her know what was going on, yet she could hear nothing and Angelique surmised that they must have been whispering. So, after a couple more minutes, she trudged up the next flight of stairs. That was until she heard her mother's voice screaming at Martha.
"How dare you tell me that I treat her too harshly! She is mine, lest you have forgotten! You have no right to talk to me in that way."
The voices lowered again as Martha spoke, but the damage was done. Angelique was sure the entire household must have heard those words and scuttled up the rest of the stairs, afraid that her mother would come storming up and find out that she had been trying to eavesdrop on them.
When Lucille finally mounted the stairs, her daughter was tucked up in bed, seemingly asleep. She was glad. How dare that woman tell her that her Angelique wasn't happy? Of course she was. She was the daughter of the Head Housekeeper, a reasonably high standing for a servant. She had a future planned out for her and a roof over her head. What more did she want?
She went over to the bed, and smoothing the young girl's dark hair from her forehead, she kissed her gently, all the while Angelique tried to keep her eyes closed.
When she finally went to wash and change, the young girl breathed a sigh of relief and turned over, facing the wall so her mother wouldn't be able to notice if she was still awake.
Barely ten minutes passed before her mother's familiar snores rumbled the air and Angelique could sneak down to meet Barnabas. Once again, she found herself admiring the many portraits adorning the walls. She was just studying the woman that must have been the grandmother of Barnabas when the young boy himself walked in.
"Are you still looking at those paintings? They're not that fascinating, you know," he told her matter-of-factly.
"They are!" Angelique protested. "We have nothing like this up where we live. The walls are just plain, I have never seen anything so pretty in my life!"
"I'll show you a painting that is really beautiful, if you would like?"
Angelique's eyes widened. "There is something more beautiful than this?" she asked.
"Yes, of course there is, my grandmother isn't that lovely."
Angelique's eyes widened ever more. "You can't say that!" she gasped, appalled that he could even consider criticising his grandmother in such a way.
"Yes, I can, she's my grandmother, besides it's true and I've always been told to tell the truth!" And with that remark, he marched out of the room, head held high, and expecting his friend to follow.
As they walked through the corridor, neither said a word, that was until they reached the painting. It really was beautiful. The large yellow sun lit up lush, green fields, dotted with flowers of blues, reds, purples. And then, to the left, the sweet country cottage with roses climbing around the doorway, the straw thatched roof, the little garden.
"Where is this?" Angelique breathed.
"The countryside. We have a house like that, but it's a lot bigger. That's where we go in the summer sometimes."
Angelique nodded, she knew that they had a full set off staff where they went during the summer as those few weeks were the only time during the entire year when her mother could spend time with her.
"You are so lucky to have such a place you can go to."
Barnabas wrinkled his nose. "Not really. It stinks of manure there. I much prefer this house and the city. At least the smell of the streets doesn't reach the house. In the countryside, it gets into the rooms and then up your nose. It makes Mother sneeze, you know. The only reason we go is for the fresh air."
"Oh." Angelique didn't quite know what to say. She would have loved to go, even if it did make her sneeze. It just looked so glorious.
"Come on, let's go. Where do you want to visit now? You've seen the dining room, the sitting room and the drawing room."
"What else is there?" the young girl asked, hurrying to keep up with Barnabas as he walked out.
"How about we go up here?" He stopped at the bottom of a grand staircase.
"No," Angelique said, stepping back and shaking her head. "No, what happens if we get caught?"
"We won't," he replied simply, then sighed when Angelique looked apprehensively up the stairs. "Oh, come on, don't be such a milksop!"
Angelique furrowed her brows. "What's a milksop?" she asked.
"Someone who's scared of everything." He didn't look at her and started up the steps. "Are you coming or not?"
The young girl knew she couldn't. "No, I can't, Barnabas. I don't want to get caught. Seeing downstairs is enough for the moment."
"I can't believe you!" he snapped before storming up the steps leaving Angelique to find her way back to the servant's quarters alone.
While she hurried through the corridors, she started to panic. What if he told on her? She would be in so much trouble with not only her mother, but the entire household. She could get her and her mother thrown out of the house in disgrace!
Stopping at the bottom of the servant's stairs, her fears took over and she let out a little sob of despair. What had she done? She should have known it was a bad idea to sneak out at night. Now all she could do was wait and pray Barnabas wouldn't say anything.