Gathering (1)

When Beatrice looks back, it is Lady Williams that calls her.

"Hope no problem, lady Williams." She smiles at her as Lady Williams walks towards her.

"I just want to commend you of your work today. Well-done. And I also hope we can be friends." She says and Beatrice smile at her. She knows that Lady Williams is never genuine and only wants to get close to her because she seems to be intelligent.

"Thank you lady Williams." She shakes her slightly and enters her carriage, with her maid. The coachman drives her carriage out of the Westminster palace, straight to Southwark.

It is late at night when the carriage steps into the Viscount of Southwark mansion. It's that same time Marianne walks inside too, but she has changed into her coat.

The Viscountess rushes outside with beaming smile on her face, trying to welcome her daughter.

"My daughter eventually gets lecture from the best duchess of all time. I'm so proud of you my daughter." The Viscountess beams at Beatrice who hugs her mother.

The Viscount comes out also with a smile on his face.

"Well done." He simply says and Beatrice blushes in joy.

"Thanks so much father." She was so happy. Even if she is not the Viscount biological daughter, she can be more useful than the biological son, who is as useless as ever.

Marianne watches them with smirks and walks toward them.

"Well done, sister." She says and Beatrice returns with that her smile, which she is very sure is fake.

"Don't be jealous of your sister. Wellz it's normal for you to feel that way. But just learn from her." The Viscountess says but she ignores her and greets her father before she enters.

"Get dressed and prepare for the gathering." Her father says, following her and she nods her head and enters her room.

She steps into her dressing room, looking for something suitable she can wear to the gathering. She can bet she misses Theresa, who's always ready to help her dress. She checks a selection of finely-tailored coats, each more exquisite than the last.

She run her fingers along the fabric of one coat, admiring its rich texture.

"Try it on," Something in her encourages, and she picks the coat. She slids her arms into the sleeves, she fasten the buttons by herself.

The long, fitted coat called a "justacorps" she is wearing is typically made of wool or silk, and it often has elaborate embroidery or trim. The coat is in a dark color, like a navy, and she wears a knee-length breeches and stockings.

In addition to the justacorps, she wears a powdered wig, which she styles in elaborate curls or waves. The wig is made of horsehair, and it's lightly powdered with starch that gives it a distinctive gray color. She also wears a shirt with a high collar, a cravat (a type of neckcloth), and knee-high leather shoes.

She stands before the mirror, smoothing the wrinkles from her justacorps. She adjusts the collar of her shirt and straightened her cravat, before pulling on her knee-high leather shoes. She takes one last look in the mirror, admiring the way the justacorps accentuated her slim figure and complimented her fair complexion. She feels confident and ready for the gathering ahead.