𝐅𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐇 𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐒𝐒 | benedict bridgerton

ARTISTIC TALENT

*re-edited*

Benedict returned with a glass of champagne for Marie and some stronger beverages for himself. "Please," Marie scoffed, taking the crystal glass and taking down the liquid in one gulp. Whiskey. "I'm not surprised," He mumbled in distaste. She had recovered from the previous wave of emotions randomly sprung on her during their dance. Queen Charlotte was listing out the next list of dancers. 

"Excuse me, what's that supposed to mean?" She glared at him, ignoring her moment of vulnerability on the dance floor. "Listen, we are never going to be friends. You are not good for my family." 

Marie stared at him before beginning to laugh. "Oh? You think this is funny do you?" Benedict was red in anger. Marie's giggles slowed. "I cannot believe my presence works you up so much. I am allowed to make acquaintances as I please," She chuckled, shaking her head. 

"You're not suitable for courting, by any means, since all you do is laze around and drink all day. You don't worry about your image, or your family, or anyone else around you. You only think about yourself," He whisper-shouted at the girl who looked at him ludicrously. She got him so angered, some could laugh at it. 

"You think I do nothing all day? I laze around?" She stared at him, getting wound up herself. There was something about her that lit Benedict like a match. 

"Anthony is working on his Viscount duties every day, he's too busy to court your sisters and get your family a stable income through marriage. Violet, as directed by Lady Danbury, came to me. I know Simon Basset very well and I have been working out a way for me to help your family. That is the role I have been playing. I am getting Daphne a husband with a good title to help your family. The last thing I think about is myself but obviously, you are correct because you know me so well and are superior because you are a man," She seethed, spitting out a sarcastic comment at the end. Benedict took a step back, shocked and defeated at the girl's words. 

Marie turns as her eyes widen, realising she shouldn't have spilt such a large secret at a ball since anybody could be listening. It could end up in the Whistledown social papers at any moment. 

Gently, she swallowed. Her eyes flickered to his face whilst her hand harshly placed the glass of finished whiskey onto the table. Beginning to walk away, her eyes stung whilst she made her way through the bustle of people. "Marie, look I'm-" Benedict chased after her in an act of defiance against his previous words. 

"No," She voiced loudly as she turned to him, a few well-dressed people looking their way. Mama's tried to listen in, hoping for gossip to chatter about at the next tea party. 

She halted and he almost ran straight into her. He had subconsciously gripped her hand."No," She whispered again, her voice broken, before tugging her arm out of his hand, her glove being pulled from it. She then ran from the ball, pulling her dress up from her feet. 

►►►

Marie choked on the air outside, the crisp cold air causing her throat to burn and her eyes to water. She gagged, breathing in deeply as she sat down on a fat stone pillar. She heaved in deep breaths as her bare hand held her chest. She ripped the diamonds that littered her neck, hoping that it would help her breathe but it didn't. 

The sky was peppered with blinking stars, watching pitifully over the crying Princess. He was too much. She couldn't understand how someone could be so aggravating. Darkness surrounded her, the only source of visibility being the lanterns that lit the steps up to the Queen's ballroom. 

She knew he was trying to dig at her, get a reaction, but deep down somewhere she knew he was right. She turned away suitors, she slept in until ungodly hours of the morning. She painted and chatted. She was lazy and uncourtable. And perhaps her mother had been right all along: Marie Howard was unlovable. 

"Marie?" Violet Bridgerton's soft voice called out into the air. Marie tried her best to keep quiet in hopes that she wouldn't bother Violet but she couldn't help the violent sob that wracked her whole body. "Oh baby," Violet came down to aid the girl who was having an anxiety attack. Violet held the girl, helping her breathe. "Calm down, baby," She stroked Marie's hair, raking her hands through it. Marie snuggled into Violet's lap, crying as she recognised the situation she was in. 

After a short while, Violet convinced Marie to re-enter the ball. "It will be such a scandal, my dear, go back inside and smile. You don't have to talk to him," Violet reassured her, failing to mention Benedict's name. It hurt Violet, to see how much harm her son did to a woman. Where did she go wrong?

Marie nodded, clearing her eyes with her singular glove and breathed in a deep breath. Violet gently took off her own gloves from her arms. "Here my darling," Violet said with a warm compassion, placing the diamonds back on Marie's neck, covering up the scattered freckles which dotted her neck generously. 

►►►

Benedict, after half an hour of indiscreetly asking, found Marie isolated, staring up at a painting of a woman lying down in a sunflower field. He walked up to her, his footsteps almost silent. The room was separate from the ballroom, the sounds of delight coming from dancing girls were muffled by the thick wooden door. 

The room was quiet, a few old couples walking around together but all together, silent. She looked down, her jaw wobbling slightly. "As a child, I used to pretend that was my mother. She was waiting for me in a field. I would run to her in my dreams, fall down in the midst of the flowers and let her hug me."

Silence hung around them. 

"Marie, I apologise. I should not have said that about you," Benedict admitted, his rough voice cut through the air like a knife. The girl didn't move. 

Benedict took a deep breath, ruffling his already messy hair before placing his hand on the girl's shoulder. He turned her toward him. She stared at him, taking a shaky breath herself. He studied the red-rimmed eyes of hers, the brown circles almost toffee-coloured. He watched her brown curly hair fall in front of her face, a few strands at a time. Admired the golden tone of her skin, the curve of her jawline and the freckles which sprinkled down her neck and chest. He placed the lace glove back onto her hand, their eyes saying more words than they could form. 

He turned away from her, causing her to do the same. "I didn't know you were into art passionately, Your Royal Highness," His voice was strained as he noticed Cressida Cowper and her mother enter obnoxiously. They observed the conversation, but Benedict and Marie acted as if they didn't know they were there. "I am not, Mr Bridgerton" She answered, her voice cracking slightly under the strain of her tone. 

He placed his hand on her wrist, out of view, with his thumb stroking her palm in reassurance. "Of course not," Benedict continued. "I attend an art club, we paint pictures just like these," He took the lead, steering the conversation. "There was a devoted drunk man who walked in once," He smiled cheekily, watching her lips turn upwards slightly. 

"What is your favourite piece from this art club?" She asked, quietly as her eyes flittered between the picture, Benedict, and the Cowper's who were strolling with a keen interest in their conversation. "There was a beautiful one, of two women sat down. The colours and blend were perfectly done," He watched her look down and blush at his words, knowing he was referencing her artwork. "Sounds lovely," She cleared her throat, pulling her hand from his as the Cowper's crossed behind them, hoping to maintain her dignity from another scandal.  

"Ah, Mr Bridgerton and Princess Howard," Cressida's mother smiled, curtseying. "No chaperone?" She watched the two, offering a patronising smile. "He went to the washroom, I can introduce you if you would like. I'm sure Cressida would love to get to know Bertie. Since she seems to throw herself at any man in the Ton. From what I can tell of course," Marie's calm and quiet tone was so polite it was hard to tell if she'd actually said what she did. 

"Excuse me-" Cressida began but Marie cut her off again. "I'd be very aware of what you are about to say to me since Her Majesty Herself is my Godmother and can very quickly ruin your reputation," Marie spoke clearly once again, her brutality rubbing off on the unfortunate pair.

"Goodbye now Miss Cowper and Lady Cowper," Marie spared them a smile and turned back to the painting. The Cowper's left in a hurry after that and once the door slammed shut, Benedict burst out laughing. 

"Good play, Princess."