Beatrice Baudelaire Novels & Stories

Her mother said, and the little girl's eyes widened. "But why do we have them here mummy, if they are for the dead..they should be kept in the cemetery." The little girl said as she discarded the fruits and stood up to meet her mother. "Come here and let me make you a good pudding." Her mother said and carried her up. "Mummy, will it rain again?" Beatrice asked. "It will if little Beatrice does not take her bath quickly." Her mother said. "Ma'am." The butler of the house gave a bow to the woman.

I’m most likely depressed cause even Beatrice throws me a small smile and bobs her head to the sound of the classical rendition of The Greatest by Sia. My gaze skates to the floor as we walk deeper into the finely decorated auditorium, our eyes skating past the occupied tables for empty ones. Students throw surprised glances my way because the sight of Elsida Dalton mingling is one for sore eyes, even Maddie casts a glare at me when we finally locate seats. I roll my eyes at her blatant display of stupidity. “Julien isn’t going to know what hit him,” Beatrice muses and as if on cue, my eyes collide with his.

The drafty study of the Hawthorn estate was bathed in the amber glow of dying embers and a single, flickering candelabra. Outside, the Yorkshire moors howled with a restless wind, but inside, the air was heavy with a different kind of storm. Thalia sat rigidly in a high-backed velvet chair, her hands clasped in her lap, her knuckles white. She wore a high-collared white blouse and a floor-length wool skirt, the attire of a proper young ward, but the fire in her eyes was anything but submissive. Standing before her, silhouetted against the dark oak bookshelves, was Beatrice. As the governess, Beatrice wore a charcoal dress that cinched her waist with unforgiving precision, her hair pulled bac

Her words sent a chill down Bella’s spine. “The Baudelaire’s have always had witches, but not very powerful ones. The name Baudelaire was coined recently for our entire family because my mother, Karen, married a Baudelaire. Her family has the lineage of powerful witches, not werewolves. But she married Hazel’s grandfather, who was an ordinary werewolf, and his family took control of everything. Her lineage had always been mostly female witches, often married to vampires, and many of them were wiped out during the war. Karen was over a hundred years old when she died, and she only became friends with Theresa when she was about sixty, and Theresa was a quarter of her age. Karen was also older

"Marc and Cole would never choose you. They're my mates. And Eric? He's Danielle's mate. Marked and Mated." Beatrice's eyes narrowed. "Mates can be replaced." She leaned closer, her tone turning conspiratorial. "My aunt will see to it. That's right! My aunt is a Blood Witch, and she said she'd help Mother. What Mother wants, she always gets, and I'll have everything I deserve." It was clear to me now. Beatrice's delusions ran deep, and they mirrored Elizabeth's twisted ambitions. I studied her closely, noting the erratic gleam in her eyes and the tension in her movements. It wasn't just arrogance—it was instability.

Tall, dark red stilettos. She’s wearing a sating dress that clings onto her body perfectly, complemented by the dazzling jewelry around her neck and wrists. Her hair, her smile, her eyes, she looks incredible. I soon realise that she is not the woman I met last night. Something has changed, and her aura has shifted into something dangerous. Tristan’s body is still turned to me, but his eyes are fixed on Bella, with his lips slightly parted in awe. Her scent fills the room. “Miss Ward, please have a seat.”

Rebecca said, turning to her side, "Your Majesty, meet Zita. She is my personal help and Lady Cathy's governess." "It's nice to meet you, Your Majesty." Zita said politely and curtsied. "Same here." Violet said calmly, with a warm smile. "Um, I would love to continue this conversation but I have to return home. My husband is coming back today and I..." Rebecca said as she collected Catherine from her, "...plan to surprise him by making him a special meal." Violet felt a little sad when Catherine returned to her mother.

Elara looked up to the heavens and sighed. “I’ll handle it,” said Beatrice. One of the wolves who lived in the mansion. She was always such a great help in situations like this. The way she would show up in situations made Elara think she was like a ghost. Always there when she needed her most. Like right then. At times like this, such helpfulness was hard to get. Especially with a boy with an absent mother. Where was Caitlyn, by the way?

She wanted to be a slender athletic girl who could usually tried in defending herself from danger. Beatrice got to the bathroom, brush her teeth and took her bath afterwards. She exist the bathroom went to her wardrobe in search of clothes to put her. She was still excited about going shopping with Stephanie because there was this latest trending gown that she wanted to buy. Beatrice was called by one of the maid that breakfast was served. So she went downstairs and founded them around at the dinner but William, her adopted father wasn't in the midst of them. "Good morning momma! Beatrice greeted as Rebecca smiled at her. " Good morning sweetie! How was your night? It wasn't that bad though.

The next morning, Maria was the first to wake up, she cooked and met Mr Gabriel in the sitting room. "Good morning sir" she said with a smile, Mr Gabriel smiled and beckoned to her to come and see sit. "What's up with Beatrice?" He asked and Maria sigh, Mr Gabriel wanted to know even though he knew it might cause a lot. "She might have somehow discovered that her mother once attended a fashion school with a woman called Mrs Besse. "Besse!" Mr Gabriel exclaimed, "yeah, do you know her?" Maria asked and he nodded. "Elizabeth always mention her, they were best friends but they broke apart. How did Beatrice know that?" Mr Gabriel wondered.