Modiste Bridgerton Novels & Stories

The servants, dressed in crisp black and white, moved with precision, carrying trays of champagne flutes and making last-minute adjustments to the decorations. And there, standing near the grand staircase, waiting for us with a glass of champagne in hand, was Charlotte. She was stunning in an elegant, pale green gown, the soft satin draping around her figure effortlessly. The dress was modest yet sophisticated, with delicate beading around the neckline and sheer sleeves that gave it a touch of ethereal grace. Her blonde hair was styled into an elegant chignon, and her jewelry was understated but expensive, a single diamond bracelet glimmering against her wrist. She looked every bit the pictu

Her eyes glimmered with desperate hunger, but to Alejandro, the display was pathetic, even revolting. “I invited myself,” she purred, her smile dripping with arrogance. “After all, I’ll be the queen of this mansion soon.” She looked at him as though he were a meal she intended to devour. Alejandro’s lip curled in disgust. “Out. Now.” His tone was ice. But Bridgette didn’t move. She only smiled wider, her defiance as brazen as her presence. Slowly, deliberately, she slid her hands along her sides and peeled her dress away, letting it fall to the floor.

"In his words, you dress like a woman trying to disappear and honestly, I can't agree less.” Cassie didn't know if she should be offended. “Soft colors, modest cuts, nothing that draws attention.” The woman continued. “That worked for your past reputation but now?" She snapped her fingers. "Now you need to make them look." Dom finished his call and crossed to them, sliding his phone into his pocket. "Margot is the best in the business. She's dressed everyone from minor royalty to major scandals." "Which category do I fall into?" Cassie asked.

Both Ladies curtsied and Bridget took her leave. Sir, this way. Mum, I have sent word with Bridget to send you a dress for a Lady and accessories to match. Please wait here for them.” Turning to Bradford, “Sir, into your chambers. A bath is needed. The smell of Earth and Potions fills the nostrils.” With that Bradford was washed, perfumed, clothes, hair brushed and his livery collar replaced on top of his Princely apparel. He now looked like a Prince. He still didn’t feel like one. Not yet.

But a voice froze her in place. “Mrs Young, is this how you welcome your distinguished guests to your stepdaughter’s eighteenth birthday party?” Gasps echoed around them. People paused mid-conversation, heads turning. The press, who had been idling by the decorated archway, immediately swarmed closer. Mrs Mickelson stepped out of the car with an elegance that silenced the crowd. Her gown flowed like liquid midnight, absorbing and reflecting the lights in a mesmerizing sheen. Her makeup was flawless, her jewellery subtle yet regal, and her confidence filled the air like an expensive perfume. Several onlookers audibly gasped as she radiated wealth, power, and the assurance of a woman who was u

I no longer looked like the small-town girl from nowhere and instead looked like a movie star. I looked like someone who could be with a billionaire. “Holy crap,” Charlotte whistled, peeking her head in the door. “I do good work.” Charlotte opened the door wider and came in. She was wearing an off-the-shoulder gown with a subtle mermaid tail in royal blue. With her dark hair and eyes, she was breathtaking. “You look gorgeous, Charlotte,” I told her. She grinned. “What? This old thing?” She grinned. Charlotte looked like she had just stepped out of a fashion magazine. She circled me, evaluating my dress and appearance. She reached up and adjusted the comb in my hair. “Sebastian’s going to los

She had just stepped out, not even having made it upstairs, when the doorbell rang again. Who had Leandro arranged this time? Charlotte had no choice but to turn around and open the door. As soon as the door opened, she was met with an elegant lady. Charlotte paused, "Hello, may I ask who you are looking for?" The lady of high society was dressed in an Armani haute couture suit, the white camellia on the black skirt made her look dignified and elegant. The lady spoke with utmost elegance, "Ms. Bernard, hello, my name is Marissa."

This isn't merely a dress; it's a masterpiece, decorated with elegant silver patterns and highlighted with subtle sparkling details that complement her radiant beauty. The dress drapes effortlessly, and her complementary leggings fit her flawlessly, signifying both elegance and strength. She stands out in this exquisite setting, exuding confidence and grace. Every element of her attire speaks of creation, showcasing her as the perfect blend of creativity and fashion. A single glance is enough to captivate onlookers, as her attire resonates with both artistry and style. Leonardo DiCaprio Collymore shook his head to the side. He closed his eyes and opened it several times. He couldn't believe

tea that they are drinking is enticing me to sit down and drink. but Yuri reminded me of what we were there for. and we are already late for my appointment with the modiste. “Your Grace, the modiste is waiting in the room.” Yuri whispered to me and pointed at the room where the modiste is in. I looked back at the ladies and had to decline their offer, “I am sorry ladies but I am afraid I cannot join you for tea right now. The modiste is already waiting and I am very much excited to fit into my gown." With that, I waved goodbye to them goodbye before entering the room. inside the room was the modiste still making adjustments to the gown that i commissioned to her, a full body mirror, some co

"And they said Bridgerton is a crappy show." Chase helped me put on the dress and minutes later, he was zipping the back of the dress without ruining my hair and makeup. Both of us studied my reflection in the mirror. I take in a few breaths before turning my body from side to side, adoring the clean material against my skin. The slit made it look risqué and modern, while the color still made me feel like a bride. I blinked at my reflection in the mirror and tried my best to blink away the tears. A stubborn one escaped, but I gently wiped it away with my fingers.