► la guerre est finie

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"Miss Howard?" Ursula, one of Marie's new maids called with demure. Ursula was a skinny strawberry blonde whose calm face always seemed an angry red. Marie awoke with a beaming smile the prior days events leaving her in a happy mood. The day had peaked aurora. "Please, call me Marie, Ursula," Marie said, admiring the girl's finer quality maids dress. "There is a ball tonight and I overheard you mentioning you'd like to finish your painting so we thought we would wake you and then get you ready a little later?" Ursula asked with her head down. "Perfect, that was brilliant thinking. Thank you Ursula. I'd like the house to be a little quieter, here take this and take Anne and Talia with you," Marie decided, pulling out a pound coin. Ursula stared at Marie with awed eyes, bowing her head and rushing out the room.

Marie got out of bed, shivering as her feet touched the cold floor. She picked up the childhood memoirs and sent up a quick prayer for Bea. Marie knew the letter off by heart now, and thought about it as she bathed herself. Marie didn't trust anyone to bathe her since Bea was gone, and especially after her meltdown before the ball Daphne forced her to go to. "Yasmin," Marie called, the now-Head Maid peaking her head through the door. "Yes Marie?" The girl asked, her dark brown hair packed into a sleek bun. "Can you call Daphne around for afternoon tea?" She requested, scrubbing her muddy nails with a scrubbing brush. "Of course," Yasmin said, cracking her neck as she left the room. Marie smirked with the memories of her cracking her neck when she first moved to England at the debutante ball. Another debutante ball had just passed, the Queen's annual ball was taking place that night. Marie got out of the bathroom, slipping on a shimmery blush dress which matched her pearl necklace, a gift given to her from her God-mother in order to bribe her to make an appearance at the debutante ball. 

► Marie's dress

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► Marie's dress

"Ahh Daphne!" Marie smiled, hugging her best friend as Daphne walked easily through the door. "Shall we?" Marie offered, pulling the redhead through the door of the drawing room to sit on the sofa. Marie's favourite past-time was talking to a Bridgerton whilst painting - which was exactly what she would then be doing. Marie hadn't realised how close her and Daphne had become until Daphne had asked Marie to be her bridesmaid at her wedding to the Duke. Marie had cried that night in joy and it was the first time she had prayed to Bea with a smile on her face. She pulled the stained apron around her dress and pulled out her paints, adding the finishing touches she had to a painting she had started a couple of months ago and discarded. It was of an overgrown bungalow, formed from her complete imagination. "This must've been a midnight painting," Marie commented as she stared at the canvas with a funny look. Without looking, she held her hand out in sync with Daphne who had finished pouring her a cup of tea. "You come over too often," Marie mumbled, both of the girls giggling as they sipped on their tea. 

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Time passed quickly and the maids surrendered to their quarters, preparing themselves to get Marie ready. Daphne had left a few hours before, deciding that she would need to get Eloise and herself ready which would take a straining amount of effort - it was Eloise's debutante year. Marie took herself upstairs after clearing up her artistic supplies and taking the empty tea tray to the kitchens where she greeted all of staff with a warm smile. The whole of the house adored Marie and her view to treating her services. She believed good work ethic and hard work should be rewarded, a view not many of the Ton shared. 

Talia started getting Marie ready by curling her hair with a heated curling iron - which had been lying by the fire for some time. Every strand of her nutty hair was curled to perfection, her freckled skin complimented by the pink bow which hung loosely in her curls. It was one of the biggest balls of the year which meant everyone and their mothers would be attending the ball. Marie had to look breath-taking as it was her real social appearance since Bea's death. The Featherington's ball didn't count because the dancing was a little stop-start due to the splint on Marie's leg and not many people stayed around in the Ton for long - flying back to their home countries with married debutantes. 

Anne was the seamstress of the three maids and she had spent the past week creating a gold dress which shimmied down Marie's curvy body in jagged layers. It fit her perfectly and Marie was buzzing because of it. "I will buy all of you girls dresses and you can come to the next ball with me," Marie said with a wink, the maids looking at her in disbelief. "You'll be my little Cinderella's just don't spill my secret," Marie giggled, shutting her mouth as Ursula pat red dye onto her lips. 

► Marie's hair

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► Marie's hair

► Marie's dress

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► Marie's dress

Finally, the maids left the room, letting Marie psych herself up for the major social event. Marie let out a loose breath, holding her stomach as she calmed herself and put on her smiley elegant face. These events were seriously draining with all the backhanded compliments and judgey looks from girls and their mothers. Talking to the whole Ton and more was a lot of work, even for a Princess. Marie looked down at herself in her dress and smile, walking over to her messy bed and relaxing into it. She then picked up the thimble, playing with it in her hand as she replayed Bea's letter in her head. She placed the thimble down and then picked up the toy horse, balancing it in her palm as she hummed the song Bea always sang as she cleaned Marie's room. "You saved my life," Marie quoted Bea's letter, her eyes becoming watery. "I did that," She told herself as she played with the button which lay next to the other objects. 

Marie held her eyes closed for a while until the sound of the carriage arriving made her come to her senses. She walked over to the box which stood isolated on top of the fireplace in her room. "I did that," She repeated, reaching into the box and smiling as her hand closed over the ruby necklace. 

𝐅𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐇 𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐒𝐒 | benedict bridgertonWhere stories live. Discover now