FOUR
of garments
Arabella spent the majority of the morning scanning the road in front of her house for the arrival of her best friend, who had travelled to Europe to explore the tastes of foreign men. Due to Sophia's wealth, her family had afforded to go on a holiday in the midst of the season.
Sophia had promised to share all of the most scandalous details and show of the garments she had acquired. After a couple more minutes, a white and blue carriage halted in front of Sophia's house, and Arabella raced down the stairs to find her mother about to ask her to greet Sophia calmly.
After her mother's approval, Arabella grasped her skirt and raced down the steps of her house as she crossed the road and ran into her best friends arms in the most unladylike like way possible.
"Oh Arabella, you must come with me at once," Sophia said, grabbing Arabella by one hand and a rather large bejeweled suitcase in the other.
They ran through the house and up to Sophia's bedroom, "You have to brace yourself for all that I have learned!"
Arabella sat eagerly on Sophia's bed as she watched the girl unpack her bag and pull out clothing by clothing.
"Isn't it beautiful?" Sophia questioned as she laid out a red velvet hand-sewn corset. The embroidery was magnificent. Arabella took in the corset in her hands and felt the fabric; it was smooth and silky.
"It's for you," Sophia said eagerly, looking at Arabella with a mischievous gaze.
"What on earth would I need this for?" Arabella asked, staring at the corset and then back at her best friend, who had recently learned all the trades of France: sexual and culinary.
"For when you acquire a man, of course,"
"A man?" Arabella pondered.
"Oh dear, the French were right. Our society has indeed failed to teach women their purpose and roles within a marriage," Sophia exclaimed, a hand on her forehead to symbolise unease and disappointment.
"Just tell me what you mean," Arabella asked.
"The corset, and everything in this bag, pertains to the art of seduction. When one acquires a man or a suitor, they must be dressed appropriately, as if to keep the man interested,".
"You are saying that if i- us women do not dress accordingly to this 'seduction' method, then men will not desire us?" Arabella asked incredulously.
"No. No, my dear. You mistake me," Sophia continued, "I simply mean that in France, some women choose to wear undergarments of various colours and patterns to appear more attractive during intercourse."
"Intercourse?" Arabella exclaimed quietly. "Do not speak of such things; it is not ladylike,"
"My God, Arabella, what has gotten into you? Ladylike, it is indeed ladylike, your mother's gotten in your head again,".
"How do you know so much about this?" Arabella questioned, edging closer to her best friend.
"I've laid with a man," Sophia said, quietly, "In France, they are so open about the ideals for both men and women, I chose to partake in certain advances, and now I understand everything."
"Oh, Sophia, your innocence, your reputation, how will you get a husband-" Arabella questioned with a worried scowl on her face which soon turned to confusion, "Your mama...".
"I always thought myself worth was based on my virtue, but now I understand that I have not changed and that I am still as desirable as I was before France," Sophia said, "However, please do not speak of this to anyone else. The English are not as welcoming to such things as the french are."
"Of course, Sophia," Arabella said with a smile, "Now, you must tell me what you know,"
"I'm afraid no amount of words can describe the delicacies of a true partnership to its full capacity,"
Arabella and Sophia spoke for hours on end, garment by garment. Sophia told stories of her adventures and everything she had learned.
"How do you think I shall go about receiving these experiences," Arabella asked Sophia.
"Marriage," Sophie said frowning.
Arabella sighed, "I assumed so, our societies are not accustomed to rogue women,"
"You simply ask a man to teach you, because the standard is doubled as women are expected to stay virtuous while men can have every woman they desire,"
"That's- , asking a man to teach you such things without the bind of matrimony seems rather obscure,"
"Do as you please Arabella, just promise me that you shall be careful."
...
Arabella walked down the stairs of her home toward the main dining room where her mother sat. She had put on a light pink gown with small dots of white splattered along the top, today was yet another ball and countless hours spent wasting time with boys.
When Arabella was first told about the seasons and the marriage market she assumed that it would be easy but the idea of courting for a few weeks and then getting married seemed so impractical.
The process was indeed tedious and not at all what she expected.
Once she arrived at the ball, Arabella's father, Benjamin guided her over to the sidelines where the young women were being asked to dance. Her father made his way over to the gentlemen's table where the older men would discuss whatever they were discussing. Arabella's face scowled at her fathers abandonment, he didn't dare lift a single finger to make sure Arabella had a hand up during the season.
After two minutes in utter silence, a handsome young man approached Arabella and asked if he could have a dance.
"Benedict Bridgerton," he said, as he danced flawlessly, "My name that is,".
"Arabella Leversay," Arabella smiled sweetly as she told him her name, for the remainder of the song they proceeded to indulge in small talk about the weather, dresses and all kinds of topics.
"So Benedict, do you have any siblings?"
"I do indeed I have quite a few," Benedict smiled, as he spoke about his siblings, "My oldest brother is Anthony, I come after him and then my younger brother Colin, then my sister Daphne, then Eloise, Francesca, Gregory and Hyacinth."
"I met your brother last week, the Viscount, yes?" Arabella said. Benedict let out a small laugh and grinned at her.
"Yes, you have to excuse him. Social gatherings are not his favourite."
"Well, I imagine the Bridgerton house has no boring moments," Arabella said.
"The young ones can be quite a handful, but we manage, I'd like to think we're a very close-knit family, my mother really takes time to help each and every one of us best she can," Benedict smiled sadly at the thought of his mother, "She's a strong woman, especially since-,"
"Since what?" Arabella asked softly, as she looked him in the eyes and saw sadness gloss over him.
"Since my father died after that Anthony became Lord of the house. He's supposed to take responsibility for all things that occur regarding the Bridgerton name, however sometimes he does distract himself," Benedict continued, as they slid across the dance floor, "Drives my mother absolutely mad."
Arabella smiled as he listened to him speak about his art, and his passions. A small window out of the marriage world, she gripped onto each detail, asking the questions that popped into her head without hesitation. Benedict was more then happy to oblige.
After another dance, Arabella parted ways with the man, as any more would be deemed improper. As suitors swarmed her, she looked around for her father but saw he had much more interest in talking to his colleagues.