Princess Marie, a renowned troublemaker of Paris has entered the Ton. Marriage, children and any prospect of love have always been a 𝘥𝘦𝘵𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘧𝘶𝘭 thought. This Author can sense a love story brewing from the moment she steps off that boat.
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After the end of the ball and many alcoholic cocktails, Marie stumbled up the steps to her house, realising Bea was asleep. The whole house was silent, it being a few hours before the downstairs staff had to begin preparing the house for Marie's awakening. Sometimes she wished she could be a maid, having no responsibilities and expectations but to serve somebody above you. She hopes that she treated her staff well enough and tipped them generously for their work.
She giggled as she pulled out the clothes and long grey coat from the cupboard, grabbing a glass bottle of whiskey from the cellar as she left the house. Her feminine laugh bubbled up through her throat as she walked towards the art club, tipping rather large amounts of alcohol into her mouth. Young beggars watched with gleaming eyes, it was rare you hear such a joyous sound in the slums.
She slipped past the curtain door and placed herself at an easel at the back of the room, watching people talk and joke before settling to paint. She put her hand over her mouth, suppressing a drunken laugh which would blow her cover to the respectable gentlemen. What a mess she would be in then. Headlining British newspapers too.
Marie spent long hours of the morning painting, her 'borrowed' pocket watch telling her it was quarter past two. Many of the customers had left at that point. She laughed to herself as she noticed all the oil paint on her fingers. She took another swig of the bitter alcohol, deciding to use her fingers to add to her painting.
"I wouldn't do that," A feminine voice whispered making Marie turn around, offering a drunken smile. "It's beautiful, don't ruin it," The girl took Marie's hand away from the painting, hanging the canvas up before bringing her away from the chance of ruining her artwork.
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"What's your name?" The woman asked gently, covering herself with a thin sheet. "You're a model?" Marie smiled, noticing the girl's petite frame, barely shielded from wandering eyes. "I want to be an artist, I can listen to the lectures by modelling. I don't think I could be as discrete as you when painting," The girl offered, taking the pin from Marie's hair and letting the chestnut waves fall down onto her shoulders.
Marie faltered, looking around the room in hopes nobody saw them, but she only saw a few men engrossed in their painting. Most had gone home, the hours being too early for them to paint. "What is your name?" The girl repeated, "What's yours?" Marie retorted. The girl chuckled, balancing herself on a stool. "Kate, you?" She sighed, scratching her scalp which had been plaited into a tight hairstyle for men to attempt to paint. "Claudia," Marie lied. Kate noticed the hesitation but didn't push on it.
"I'll leave you be," Kate smiled when she noticed someone walking through the door. She returned to her stall, winking to Marie who laughed. "Brother, this is not what I meant when I said to get drunk," Colin Bridgerton's voice filled the room, a sweet laugh shortly following.
"Free alcohol and models, what more could you want?" Benedict's answer echoed his brothers, his voice making Marie cringe. She disliked the Bridgerton brother more than most of the Ton she had met. And that was saying a lot. "Right well I'm getting more from the bar downstairs," Colin announced and then left, saluting to Kate. Marie watched as Benedict let out a lop-sided smile, his expression opposing any kindness he'd ever shown her.
