Mrs Beauregarde Novels & Stories

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.

The evening was shaping up pretty well... Apart from the fact that Mrs. Dupuis and Mrs. Hailey wore the same hat and she had a hard time telling them apart, everything was going well. She was trying to maintain the same detached look that Mirabelle had, but she had trouble doing it... She had learned more than fifty names by heart and now she was afraid to call someone by name. from someone else. Without forgetting that she should especially avoid talking about goods to a banker thinking that he was the wealthy businessman on the west coast... Just like she had just done with Mr. Cadet...

She straightened her posture, took one last glance at herself…Phoebe Rogers, before walking out to join Brant downstairs. She hoped to be there when Carol woke up. _______ "Ma'am, you are back." Bériot Mise, one of the brothers who helped her acquire shares in Phoebe's name, greeted her when she and Brant approached Carol's ward. "Mr. White." He gave a brief bow to Brantley. "ça fait longtemps. Comment va Janvier ? (It's been a while, how is Janvier ?)" Phoebe asked. "He is fine, he had a meeting at the company so he could not make it." Bériot replied in french.

the woman with the large French twist greeted. “That’s Deronda and this is Margo. I’ve known them for years,” Beverly said proudly. “Hi,” Margo slurred. “Nice to meet you,” Bruce said as Beverly sat down in a chair. Bruce sat down next to her. What the hell have I gotten myself into?

Her behavior seems suspicious to Isabella. What is behind this door? Mrs. Garrett is the head of the maid. She's in her late fifties. When she came here Alex introduced her to that kind looking lady. She has been working here since Alex's birth. Isabella felt somewhat at ease in the company of the older lady. Without giving it much thought, she made her way downstairs. After having her dinner she was about to leave the place, a car horn broke off. Isabella's instincts kicked into motion. She climbed up the stairs quietly and raced towards Zara's room.

I murmured, stepping into the freezing air. He led me through a massive set of double doors into a grand foyer. A middle-aged woman in a crisp gray dress uniform was waiting for me. She gave a polite, stiff bow. "Good afternoon, Miss Beaumont. I am Mrs. Gable, the house manager. Mr. Sinclair is expecting you in his study. Please, follow me." I wiped my wet shoes on the mat and followed her up a wide, floating staircase. The house was dead quiet. There were no family photos on the walls, no colorful decorations. It felt like a museum.

My wings tingled nervously; I’d forgotten how handsome he was. “I think you should meet him,” Rosette said, and before I could stop her she took my arm and guided me towards him. “Mr. Beauxdera, may I introduce you to Maraina Blackwood?” “Of course,” said Mr. Beauxdera, giving me a kind smile. “A pleasure to meet you, Miss Blackwood.” “You as well,” I said, feeling overwhelmed. “Mr. Beauxdera and I have a mutual interest in statistics,” said Rosette. “I understand that you, too, care for this most noble of subjects?”

She was a ghost, a signed piece of property. A sharp knock at the door startled her. Before she could answer, the double doors swung open, and a troupe of five women in identical grey uniforms marched in. They were led by a woman with a sharp bob and even sharper eyes who clutched a tablet like a weapon. "Good morning, Mrs. Vane," the woman said, her voice devoid of any real warmth. "I am Beatrice, Mr. Vane’s head of styling. We have exactly four hours to prepare you for the Founders' Gala. Please, step out of bed. We have much work to do."

“That’s nothing. Enjoy the party, but I’d like you to keep an eye on Brianna so that Nathalie isn’t the only one looking at my granddaughter. There are a lot of people there.” “Yes, Madame!” Donna replied warmly. “I’ll keep a close eye on Brianna. “Thank you. Alright, I’m really going now,” Mrs. Beatrice said, as she took her leave of us. Everyone fell silent as Madame Beatrice stepped out here in the sitting room, the surrounding area became noisy again. The makeup artist instinctively touched her chest. “It’s really true then, Madame Beatrice Watson’s aura is sophisticated, yet intimidating.” “That’s right,” the hairstylist chimed in. “I thought she was going to eat me alive with that star

“Madam Gosling, Miss Yaleman, you’ve come! Welcome! Welcome! There are many new designs in our shop now. I can help you to pick out a few of our new items!” “No need for that. We’ll take a look around by ourselves!” Madam Gosling replied immediately. All of a sudden, her daughter started tugging on her clothes. “Mom, all of you, look! Isn’t that, that person?!” The girl pointed in Gerald and Bea’s direction. “Hmm? It’s Gerald! Bea is actually here with him too? Hahaha!” Madam Gosling snickered. That’s right. Madam Gosling was none other than Gerald’s first aunt, Rose.