Royal Regard

Chapter Nineteen, Part 2

While Michelle tightened the ropes under the mattress and straightened the bed linens, pillows, and coverings, Bella immersed herself in the warm bath, taking with her one perfect pink rose.

Once Bella had bathed and the tub removed from the dressing room, Michelle helped her into a fine lawn chemise, the tightest stays Charlotte would allow her to buy, a petticoat embroidered with a pattern of spring leaves, and clocked stockings with green garters. Partially clothed, she sat down in her dressing room and Michelle draped the combing-out cloth across her shoulders, to keep loose hair and powder from her linens.

The mirrored dressing table in the sky blue room was Louis XIV, painted in gilt, detailed with oil landscapes to match the ceiling and walls, all covered in gold-trimmed murals from Grecian mythology. The Pomona-green jacquard morning dress she had requested lay across a soft armchair in the corner, taken from the matching French armoire reflected in the looking glass. Michelle poured another cup of chocolate, then started Bella's morning toilette.

Working swiftly and efficiently, Michelle used rose oil to remove Bella's nightly Unction of Maintenon, and said, "The skin is lighter already, non? Only a fortnight and you can see your face is much more the fashion."

"Yes," Bella agreed, turning her face from side to side to gauge the relative whiteness of her skin. "Much better."

Michelle took out a basket of other items, and Bella stuttered, "Oh! You... you bought all of those... I'm not...well... I'm not accustomed..."

"So you have said, Madame. You have doubts? You are afraid, perhaps, I cannot make you as beautiful as I say?"

"No. No. It's not that. I'm just not..." Her voice grew smaller as she mumbled, "Will it not it appear strange if I suddenly look pretty?"

"Every woman is a work of art, Madame. There is skill to make one pleasing to the gentleman's eye. Like a picture, not so lovely with paint placed on the canvas pêle-mêle, no respect for the work, but the right proportions, a light hand, attention to the smallest detail, a masterpiece is created. And Madame, with all humility, I am a master artiste. Should you find I overstate my abilities, we may remove the cosmetics, and you will be just as always. Does this meet with your approval? Shall I begin?"

Bella swallowed hard, staring into the mirror with shaking lips but determined eyes, heart pounding in anticipation. She drummed her fingers against the seat of her chair. "Yes. Yes. It can only be an improvement." With narrowed eyes, she asked, "I suppose you have done this all in celebration of the occasion?"

Only the slightest commiserating smile crossed the maid's lips when she said, "There is an occasion, Madame? I know of nothing special about this day."

Before Bella could either confirm or deny the statement, Michelle started applying Milk of Roses to make the skin appear supple and fresh, followed by cherry-laurel oil around the eyes, where the lines were deepening since the Huntleighs had returned to England. Bella screwed up her nose at the bitter smell of almond, but Michelle just said, "With the fragrances I have brought from the perfumery, you will not mind so much the scent of the paints."

"You must be very careful with the cherry laurel, Michelle. It is quite poisonous, even in small doses." She looked askance at the bottle, but added, "I suppose if one doesn't ingest it..."

"Of course that is so, Madame, for many women find it of use in the toilette." She carefully set the bottle into a drawer.

A small amount of chalk, mixed in the palm of her hand with rose oil and a dab of Pear's Bloom, created a beige tone, just a bit darker than Bella's face. She traced Bella's nose from brow to tip with the blend. Adding more chalk to the mixture, she smudged the lighter shade onto the sides, rubbing it in to blur the two colors.