𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓 | b. bridgerton

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐈𝐗 | into the fire

(CW- Panic/anxiety attack)

"But Her Grace's hair is just so lovely and long."

"She really ought to wear it up for her first ball."

"With the right style and accessories, leaving it down would not be scandalous. It is the fashion nowadays, for debutantes."

"Her Grace is not just a debutante, though. She is one of the highest-ranked noblewomen in the Ton."

The maids continued to bicker behind where Jo was perched at her vanity.

"She is still only young. We do not want to age her."

"But–"

"Jo, how would you like your hair?" Alma interjected, appearing over the girl's shoulder in the mirror. Her words, coming from the most senior of Jo's attendants, caused the two maids to right themselves.

"Hmm?" Jo looked up from where she was deciding on what earrings to wear, oblivious to the situation unfolding behind her.

"Your hair?" Alma asked again, brows raised expectantly.

"Oh. Just... whatever is quickest," she replied with a small smile.

The women looked at her, Alma holding back a slight grimace. That seemed like the worst option out of all of them.

Eventually, they got to work on styling Jo's hair. Alma oversaw the task, instructing the girls on which curls they should accentuate with the heated rod and how they should tame the frizziness with rosemary oil, all while helping Jo apply her cosmetics.

As Alma combed through her eyebrows with a little burnt cork, Jo perused the shades of rouge on her vanity, opening and closing the tins and pots to find one she liked. She dipped her fingers into a blush-coloured balm, warming it in her palm before applying the shade to her cheeks then her lips. Jo tilted her head back slightly and closed her eyes upon Alma's instruction, so the woman could apply a little more burnt cork to her lashes using a small brush.

Once Alma quietly mumbled that she was finished, Jo opened her eyes to inspect her visage and her newly-styled hair. Despite the hassle it took to get her hair together, the maids had styled it perfectly. Somehow, they had managed to contain her huge mass of unruly curls into a stylish duo of braids that ran into a small curled piece, left to hang over one shoulder.

Jo smiled, the warmth in her cheeks intensifying. She decided that she liked this feminine indulgence, this little ritual of grooming and pampering. It felt nice, for the first time in forever, to feel pretty - to want to feel pretty - without that ugly flare of guilt that often followed. It had been a long time since Jo had allowed herself that, years even, not since she used to host Rafael at her residence and she'd spend hours at her vanity, prettying herself up with rouge and tint, almost excessively, in anticipation of his arrival.

Alma tapped Jo's shoulder, urging her to stand so she may be helped into her ball gown. It had arrived earlier that day, along with two simple-looking day dresses that Madam Delecroix had managed to finish in the short period after Jo's visit to the modiste.

She braced herself against the footboard of her bed as Alma worked on the buttons and the other two girls adjusted the skirts and sleeves. Once it was finished, Jo turned towards the mirrors in the corner of her dressing chamber to look at herself. Her attendants watched with bated breath as Jo stepped closer to appraise the dress thoughtfully.

The main fabric of the dress was that same shade of silvery-white that they had selected at the modiste, with a panel of white pleated tulle extending from the back into a short train. The embroidery along the bodice was completed in its entirety, though more of the overlay had been added to the bottom of the skirts. It seemed that Madam Delecroix had also accentuated some of the swirling patterns along the hem with dark teal stitching, blending surprisingly well with the white-gold beading. Rather than the sleeves being the puffed or tulip style that were currently the fashion amongst the Ton's noblewomen, the sleeves on this dress were about an inch thick, sitting snugly on Jo's shoulders and scooping down low on her back.