She begged her father not to subject her to any more of Cousin Berenice’s assistance. It was humiliating to have one’s flaws discussed so openly! Never in her life had Linley felt insecure about her body or her clothing. Now, it seemed like there was nothing more important in the world.
“Papa, I don’t want a new wardrobe. There is no point in spending the money because I will never wear any of it ever again.”
He shook his head and patted her on the hand. “If it is a question of money, please don’t trouble yourself about that. I can spare you a few pretty things, Button.”
“It isn’t only about the money,” Linley said. “I just don’t see why it’s so important that I have a whole new collection of clothes. The two dinner gowns I have aren’t even a year old. They cannot possibly be worn out by now.”
“A normal girl your age can barely think of anything except new frocks and the latest styles.”
She threw up her hands in disgust. “I am not a normal girl.”
“And nowhere is it ever more obvious than here,” her father said. “I want us to make a good impression on society. I need you to look your best.” He held his hands out to her. “No doubt many will remember your mother’s untimely passing when they see you, and I wouldn’t want anyone to think I’ve done her memory a discredit by choosing to bring you up myself.”
Linley sighed. She never wanted to do anything that would damage her father or her late mother’s reputation. She wanted to make them proud. If going shopping with Cousin Berenice for new clothes, and attending every dinner party and ball in London was what it would take, then Linley would do it.
She marched downstairs to meet the woman for their assault on the London shopping district. Berenice already stood in the foyer, coat and hat in hand, as Linley descended the marble staircase.
“Obstinacy is a very unbecoming trait, Miss Talbot-Martin,” she said. “You’ll do well to try and reign in your emotions. No one likes a hardheaded young woman, and certainly, no man wants an unmanageable wife.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
Linley stood beneath the awnings at Selfridge’s studying the window displays. On the ride over, she thumbed through a copy of La Mode Pratique and found some styles she liked. Perhaps there would be something inside she might pick out for herself. After all, she was not opposed to fashion on principle. And even she was not immune to beautiful things.
Once inside the store, shopping for herself seemed much more daunting. There was so much to choose from! Ladies pushed past each other, all vying for the last of the better ready-made ensembles. Harried sales girls tried to keep order and peace among the customers, but it was no use. Linley stood in the middle of the chaos clutching a blue silk day dress to her chest. The matching hat rested high on a shelf, and she tried her best to flag down an employee.
“Pardon me,” she said. “I’d like to see that hat up there—the blue one with the white feather.”
The sales girl held up her hands. “I have to finish with my customer first.”
Another passed by and ignored Linley completely.
“Can someone please help me?” she asked.
“If you want it badly enough, climb up there and get it.” The young woman standing behind her pointed up at the hat. “Here, use my umbrella.”
“You can’t be serious,” Linley said.
“Oh, I’m more than serious,” explained the woman. “If you want something, you have to take it.” When Linley only blinked in reply, the young woman thrust the umbrella into her arms. “Take it!”
With a shrug, Linley gathered her skirts and stepped onto a wooden display table. Using the hooked end of the umbrella, she fished the hat down from the top shelf.
“See, it wasn’t so hard.” The young woman held out her hand. “Gaynor Robeson.”
“Linley Talbot-Martin.”
“My goodness, you are brown!” Gaynor said, studying Linley’s complexion. “Have you spent time abroad?”
“Is it that obvious?”
She took one look at Linley’s freckled skin and frayed hems. “I am afraid so.”
“Wonderful,” Linley said, frowning. “I might as well have ‘outsider’ stamped on my forehead.”
“Some men like the exotic.”
“Not any that I am likely to meet.” She laughed in spite of herself. “This is my first time in London.”
“Then you have your work cut out for you.”
“And I have not the slightest idea how to go about it.”
Gaynor tapped a gloved finger on the blue dress and matching hat in Linley’s arms. “That is a good start, but you’ll need a great deal more if you want to be properly turned out.” She watched the sales girls weaving through the crowd of excited ladies, impatient children, and blouse displays. When one came within grabbing distance, Gaynor stepped out and cornered her. “This lady would like to be fitted.”