“Really?” Linley asked. “Could we go there tomorrow? Oh please, Papa?”
He smiled down at her. “I think tomorrow might be too soon. Cousin Berenice intends to take you shopping. The sooner we order your wardrobe, the better, Button.”
Linley glanced from her father to Berenice. “What is wrong with what I have?”
The woman wrinkled her nose at the young girl’s faded traveling suit. “Every young woman can benefit from an update of her clothing from time to time. I’m sure what you have is very nice, but wouldn’t you like to have pretty new things?”
“I…I suppose so.”
Berenice nodded. “Very good. We will begin tomorrow.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
Linley hardly slept that night. The sounds of the city right outside her bedroom window proved too much for her. She peeked from behind the heavy silk draperies onto the street below, and to the lush private garden beyond. She had watched the street lamps come on, sat up with their yellow light all night, and finally saw them shut off. It was now mid-morning. A nanny pushed a perambulator. Motors came and went. Someone walked a pair of spaniels across the street. All of them oblivious to the excitement their mundane lives brought the young woman sitting in the second-floor window above them.
There was a knock at Linley’s bedroom door. A maid carrying a breakfast tray shuffled in. “Good morning, miss.”
“Good morning,” Linley replied.
The maid sat the tray on a small rosewood table. “I’ve brought your breakfast. Mrs. Hastings didn’t know what you liked, so she ordered you a bit of everything. Usually you’d serve yourself downstairs, but I thought you might still be tired from your journey.”
“That’s very kind.” Linley studied the plates—sausage, eggs, beans, and tomatoes. There was also toast and marmalade, as well as a glass of orange juice and a cup of coffee. “I hardly know where to begin.”
As she ate, the maid moved around the room. The woman drew back the curtains, filling the room with light, and then went to work tidying the bedcovers. “Did you not sleep well, miss? The bed’s hardly been touched.”
“I was too excited to sleep,” Linley said, taking a mouthful of beans.
The maid smiled. “I remember my first trip to London. I’d never known so many people could be packed into one place.”
“It’s really rather impressive, isn’t it?” Linley continued. “I’ve been all over the world, but I’ve never seen anything like this.”
Once she deemed the room satisfactory, the maid slipped out the door. “If you need anything, miss, my name is Clare,” she said, and pointed toward the bell-pull on the wall. “Just ring and I’ll be right up.”
After breakfast, Linley bathed, dressed, and went to find Berenice. The woman sat in the drawing room going over the morning papers and dispatching orders to her housekeeper. Not wanting to interrupt, Linley stood silently in the doorway.
“Come in, dear. Come in!” Berenice waved her into the room.
Linley took a few steps forward and smiled at the housekeeper, who seemed grateful for the break.
“You are an early riser,” Berenice said. “What a very good quality in a young woman. I cannot abide those who sleep the day away.”
Linley did typically start her days very early, but she dared not tell the woman that, in this instance, she had not been to sleep at all.
“I’ve ordered the motor to be brought ‘round at eleven. Of course, it’s too late to even think of gowns from the best shops. They’ll be busy with orders for the season made well in advance. Mothers plan their daughters’ debuts for years. We are attempting to do it in weeks, so we will have to be more creative with our purchases.”
Linley nodded, pretending any of this made sense to her.
“I know an efficient little dressmaker on Holles Street,” Bernice continued. “At least she can see to your evening clothes. Suits can be bought and tailored if need be.” The old woman sat forward in her chair. “Do you have reliable shoes? And what of your under things?
That last question caused Linley to blush. No one ever asked her about her underwear before.
“I will add a few good corsets to our list.”
“Why?” Linley asked. “The one I have works quite well.” She ran her hands along her abdomen for good measure. Everything seemed to be in its proper place, so what fault could the woman possibly find with her figure?
“Proper foundation garments are imperative,” Berenice explained with a wave of her hand. “They aid the posture, improve breathing, disguise imperfections—”
“I don’t have any imperfections.”
Berenice pointed her finger in Linley’s direction. “Are you naturally that skinny or have you been ill?”
“I am naturally this thin.”
“Exactly. You have no shape about you whatsoever. With a good corset, we can give the appearance of a figure. Enhance the bust, define the waist.”
Linley huffed and crossed her arms over her flat chest. “Enhance the bust, my eye!”
***