True Beauty

Five

"I wish I had your hair," Cat sighed sadly she took the brush through Bel's long, dark hair. She wondered if Bel was taken or not. Was she engaged to be married already, or was she going to be like her older sister and never marry? Cat remembered the success-filled stories of Stacia from Mr Donner, but she knew he wished it was Bel who had gone to Paris to serve as a royal doctor. She didn't blame the sick man, either. Bel was kind, caring, selfless. She'd be the perfect wife and/or doctor for someone. 

"Thank you for fixing my hair again, Cat. You know you aren't obligated to, right?" Bel asked, turning slightly to see the girl. Her response was simply a smile and a shrug.  

"I like to do hair. My mum said Marie Antoinette would like my technique." 

Bel laughed softly until Cat asked, "Are you getting married soon?" 

"No man wants me," she wanted to reply, but couldn't. What if Cat still believed no one could find love? She didn't want to be the one to give her a reality check. She didn't want to ruin a young girl's innocence.  

"I haven't found a man I loved yet." 

That was an acceptable explanation, she hoped. Cat would be satisfied and maybe she wouldn't bring it up again. 

"Are you looking for a man you love?" 

She almost shook her head, but stopped herself. She wondered if she said no, Cat would take the matter into her own hands and search the town for a man to marry her. That couldn't happen, so she decided to smile and nod.  

"I don't understand why men aren't making offers with Harry to marry you. You're the perfect wife: quiet, caring and beautiful!" 

How she wished to correct the young girl on the last one. No man could ever find her appealing in the least. 

"You know, I don't understand something. A woman like Melinda who is haughty and conceited found love so easily, while women like you are falling out of style. I think something is wrong with this world, Bel, I really do." 

What she said made sense to an outsider, but her ignorance to Bel's heinous appearance made her see the situation that way. If she wasn't so immune to it, she would understand why. Nothing is wrong with the world; it's just vain. 

"Do you like makeup?" Cat asked; opening and closing several drawers of the vanity, searching for something. 

"Makeup? What is it?" 

"It's what kept your blind father's interest in his mistress," she whispered, giggling like a small child. "You knew Mica, yes?" 

Bel scrunched her face in disgust. Mika was the first to put her ugliness into perspective, but she wasn't the one who made Bel realise she would never be loved by a man; she figured that out herself. Her father's mistress just reminded her of her unlovable face and body. She never knew that the beauty wore makeup. The thought made her laugh. 

"How much makeup did Mica wear exactly, Cat?" 

"I believe she looked like a Michael without it," the girl explained before crying out. 

"What's wrong?" Bel asked, panicked. 

Her maid stood, using language that would make the devil himself blush. "I shut the damn drawer on my hand! But I found what I was looking for!" 

Her pained expression soon turned to one of thought and creativity as she figured out what to do with Bel. "What shall I use on you?" 

It doesn't matter; nothing can make my face any worse. 

She smiled and said, "I trust you, if you made up Mica." 

Cat threw her head back, laughing as she tried to speak. "I-I guess I am-pretty good!"