𝐅𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐇 𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐒𝐒 | benedict bridgerton

► un talent artistique

*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. 

"Excuse me, what's that supposed to mean?" She glared at him, ignoring her moment of vulnerability on the dance floor. "Listen, you're clearly not suitable for courting, by any means, since all you do is laze around and drink all day. You clearly only think about yourself," He whisper-shouted at the girl who looked at him ludicrously. She got him so worked up, some could laugh at it. 

"You think I do nothing all day? I laze around?" She stared at him, getting worked up herself. "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. So, Violet, Lady Danbury 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 income 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. She began walking away, her eyes stinging as 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 people looking their way. She halted and he almost ran straight into her. "No," She whispered again 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. 

"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 at all," Violet reassured her, failing to mention Benedict's name. Marie nodded, clearing her eyes with her singular glove and breathed in a deep breath. Violet gently took the other gloves from her arm. "Here my darling," Violet smiled, placing the diamonds back on Marie's neck, covering up the scattered freckles which peppered her neck generously. 

►►►

Benedict 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. "Marie, I'm sorry. I shouldn't 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."