Mrs Beauregarde Novels & Stories

But amidst the mirth, I couldn't ignore the guarded expression on my mother's face. Her eyes betrayed a hint of jealousy, observing the conversation with a mix of emotions. It pained me to witness her discontent knowing she had her expectations and desires for our family's future. A powerful knock then sounded on the door. As the powerful knock echoed through the dining room, Chiara quickly moved to open the door. A woman dressed in a navy blue t-shirt and black trousers entered, her long black hair cascading down her back and her cat-like eyes surveying the room. Before I could utter a word, Madame Beatrice took the initiative and introduced her as Jane, her new right-hand woman.

Maison Virelle executives. They all stood when Marcelline entered. One of them smiled warmly. “Ms. Odette.” She blinked. “You’re…” “Jean Moreau,” the man said. “Director of International Partnerships.” Marcelline looked back at the assistant. He simply smiled. Jean gestured toward the table. “We wanted to meet you properly.” “You could have done that earlier.” “We wanted to see you first.” “Why?” Jean smiled. “To confirm something.” “What?” “That the rumors were wrong.”

Kathy said addressing an older woman, seated at the table. "Ah! the lovely Mrs. Dumas. You look brilliant as always, I see you brought a guest. Do have a seat," the small old woman said, pointing to the empty chairs at her table. Her voice was small and coarse. Yet it was firm, steely, and it carried authority. "Ah yes, this is Miss Joan Hargreaves, I told you about her before remember?" Kathy said introducing Joan. "You told me about her, but you never told me she was this charming," Madame DuMont said with a frown aimed at Kathy. "Welcome Miss Hargreaves, I am quite familiar with your family, accept my late condolences on your father's passing."

The woman raised her voice on me. "Stop, Gretchen." Mr. Bertrand stood up from his seat and walked towards me. "What's your name again, young lady?" "Dorothy, sir." "Dorothy, I want you to meet my wife, Gretchen." He introduced me to the woman I bumped into. So I was right. She is the mother of the Young Master. They indeed have similarities. Mr. Bertrand pointed the two who were sitting at the couch so they stood up. "That's Charmaine Heather, the lady's maid. She's the one who helps my wife dress, do her hair, and generally to look after my wife in any way that was needed." He pointed the lady who's just the same age as me.

"Well, you don't have to listen to me ramble, we can take the toured guide," "Great!" I beamed as I parked the car and walked up to the mansion, where a group had already started to gather. "Good Morning my lovelies!" Came the voice of an older plump woman with a much younger blonde quick on her heels. "I'm Mrs. Mavis, Charlene Mavis and this is my daughter, Mara Mavis, she will be taking over all the tours from now on. This will be my last tour, so let's make it special shall we?" Charlene clapped her hands together as the crowd suddenly broke out in sully howls. "Oh none of that, come on lovelies, let's see what we have through these beautiful timeless oak doors!"

They swirled with a dangerous, clingy heat I knew all too well. "And I don't share," he said. Before I could process that, the office door swung open. I jumped in my chair. Sarah Jenkins stepped in. She wasn't alone. Behind her was a tall, sharply dressed woman with an iPad. Two young assistants are pushing three huge rolling clothing racks. "Mr. King," Sarah said smoothly, completely ignoring the tension. "Genevieve is here from Bergdorf's." "Right on time. Thank you, Sarah." Sarah nodded, slipped out, and closed the door.

Zita offered. Rebecca didn't reply nor objected her offer. They both left the dining room and arrived at the living room. Rebecca slowed her pace when she saw who it was. It was a woman, who was in her late fifties, dressed in cream coloured dress. Her hair was short and styled to a bob. The woman caught a glimpse of Rebecca and smiled slyly. "Ah! You must be the new caretaker my son hired!" The woman said proudly, sneering at Rebecca. She looked her from head to toe and disliked her.

For a brief moment, the whole table fell silent. “Wow!” Beatrice exclaimed, her eyes widening. “I can’t believe you actually got invitations to Mrs. Beaumont’s exclusive gala! I heard those things are worth a fortune.” She leaned forward excitedly, taking a closer look at the cards. “Jessy also told me Mrs. Beaumont will be attending in person tonight. Apparently, she’s quite tenacious and has a fiery temper, so you’d better be careful.” “Is the young mistress that formidable?” Beatrice mother inquired, pausing her meal to join in the conversation.

I said and grandma chuckled. "What?" "You're worried about her? She's a smart girl." I raised my eyebrows when grandma said that. "But still grandma.." I said and at the same time.. I heard the door opened. I turned my head to the door and found Beverly walking in. She's wearing a black nike sports bra and nike shorts. She unplugged her earphones and walked inside. She took off her shoes and when she saw me.. she smiled. My eyes went down to her flat stomach. Her body is full of sweat and I closed my eyes. She does know how to make a man go crazy.

He held on to my right shoulder, so I turned to face him. "Will you take your hand off my shoulder or I'll turn you into a mouse?" I raised my left eyebrow, glaring at his cold yet undeniably handsome face. "Whoops!" He immediately took his hand off my shoulder. "You two! What are you waiting for?" The guard on the table called us. He's looking at me from head to toe right now. I quickly walk towards him and say, "My name is Alenna Delevigne from the city of Nalaknabak. I'm a..."