Chapter Thirty: A Willing Bride or a Successful Artist

Dearest Readers!

Let me offer you my most sincere apologies for taking this long to post the last chapter. Although I have abandoned the story for quite some time, I always knew that I would not leave you without an ending. It will be an emotional rollercoaster, but I believe it is the ending you deserve. When I started writing Franny and Benedict's story, I planned to have an ambiguous ending, so everyone would interpret it however they wanted. But as the story progressed, Franny and Benedict begged to differ. I thank all my lovely and loyal readers for the love and support I received from you, your comments and messages made my day. This fanfic and you helped me get through the pandemic and I had immense fun. ✒️All good things shall come to an end. This will be the last chapter. I'll post a short epilogue later and I also thought about writing sth like "Inside Coal Among Diamonds" where I would share my inspirations and how the story changed throughout the process if you are interested.

So here you go, a long chapter to conclude the Bridgerton-Granville saga. Enjoy. ✨

L.H.

➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖

✦

Franny didn't close her eyes for a second. She tossed and turned in bed, knowing that judgement day was afoot. The moment the letter came ordering her to make an appearance at the queen's without delay, she would have collapsed if it wasn't for Benedict holding her.

The ride went by silence, everyone was too caught up in their own thoughts even to attempt small talk. They all knew that the consequences might be favourable or entirely horrific, but nothing in between. They devised and implemented their devious ruse and the moment of truth finally descended upon them.

"I shall talk to Miss Greenville alone," commanded the queen and there was no arguing with her. Seeing how livid Franny grew, Benedict planted his foot, but Violet and Lucy joined forces to gently drag him away.

Franny gulped as she was trembling like a leaf from head to toe but met the queen's dark gaze brazenly. If the end was nigh, she would meet it with her shoulders straight and tall and her head held high. She has kept her eyes down long enough.

"Can you recall the first thing I said to you, girl?" Queen Charlotte inquired, casually leaning against her throne, her face emotionless.

Franny cleared her throat to find her voice, "I believe it was something along the lines of And that you could have my head for how I replied," then she added quickly, "Your Highness."

The monarch nodded, slowly rose from her seat and walked by Franny, not taking her eyes off her for a second. As she approached, Franny suppressed the urge to flee and stood her ground. The smell of expensive patchouli hit her as the queen stepped in front of her and grabbed her by the jaw.

"Your memory serves you well. I also said that you would serve me great entertainment should I decide to spare you."

Franny didn't speak a word as the coal black eyes scrutinised her and fingers heavy with golden jewellery held her captive. For a minute or so they remained silent, eyes locked, tension sparkling in the air. Franny could her hear heart pounding in her ears and seconds moved excruciatingly slow as the queen's heavily powdered face was in line with hers. She felt as if she saw right through her and there was no need to ask how they implemented the ruse as she could read even the tiniest detail in her eyes. Her partners in crime, of course, should remain in secret, under no circumstances would she rat anyone out. She alone was to bear the consequences.

Suddenly, just when she thought she could no longer hold herself still, Franny heard the sound of the heavy doors opening. Queen Charlotte's eyes skipped over her and darted to the entrance. Her bloodred lips rearranged into a small grin.

"And as always, I was right." Without offering any further explanation, she dropped her hand, turned tail and walked back to her throne.

Franny remained frozen, her mind not registering what has just transpired. Did she escape beheading, again? Did she get away with sneaking her paintings in Somerset House? Was she now some sort of criminal mastermind?

"My dear guest, we have been eagerly waiting for your arrival, please, come, sit next to me," beckoned the monarch and extended her hand to a comfortable looking chair.

Franny saw someone passing by her in her peripheral vision, but the spike was yet to return to her. Only when the mysterious guest took her seat, was she hit by the realisation. The woman in front of her with dark curls, a white silk dress and a curious expression on her pale face was no one else than her biggest idol, everything she ever hoped to become.

"Marguerite Gérard," Franny couldn't help but blurt out as her jaw dropped and her mind went completely blank. Remembering social convention, she bobbed a quick and rather clumsy curtsy.

The queen let out a heavy sigh, "Please excuse Miss Granville, Marguerite, I would say she forgot her manners, but I am not sure she had any to begin with."

The painter nodded somehow awkwardly, while her searching eyes fell on the girl gasping for air, "Well then, you must be Frances Granville, her greeting was soft, with a touch of French accent.

Completely scalded that the one and only Marguerite Gérard knew her name, Franny's mind went into a frenzy, "Ms. Gérard I can hardly express how honoured I am to be in the same room with you. You are everything I ever aspire to be."

The Frenchwoman seemed somehow uncomfortable by Franny's admiration and spoke out in a soft tone, "I heard that you also paint and saw some of your work... ... on display at Somerset House."

Franny nodded frantically, clutching her hands together nervously, still not quite believing who she was talking to. Or to be more precise, there was not much talk involved as she concentrated on not breaking down completely. The guest's eyes darted to Franny's wrist, recognising the spot of orange paint. Franny's ears started burning, as she remembered how Benedict, unable to calm her down, snatched a brush and splashed a spot of orange paint on Franny's wrist, exactly where he first kissed her, saying that it will bring her luck.

"Let us now waste time with I admit I might be biased, but I could not take my eyes off the picture with the I see potential in you, Frances. I shall return to France in a week, should you wish to be under my apprentice, accompany me. Travel is rather difficult given the situation we face, so the journey should take half a year, "

Franny, who was in the middle of her third heart attack in a row, could not utter a single word.

The painter nodded, administering the lack of response as consent, "I shall leave in a sennight, "

Franny's sharp intellect returned just in time to stop the two women from walking out of the room, "Ms. Gérard, as much as I appreciate the offer, and it is beyond words how overcome with happiness I am, I am about to get married, I cannot leave the country now."

The queen shot a murderous look at her, thinking that perhaps she shouldn't have spared her, but Franny's eyes remained fixed on Ms. Gérard. Narrowing her eyes and cocking her head slightly to the side, the painter turned around.