“Bedford,” Berenice spat. “You are an old fool. You’ve been in the jungle for too long. You’ve forgotten how the world works. Either you can hope and pray that one of those men on your archaeological team decides to marry her, or you can do the sensible thing and find her a respectable husband while she’s still young enough to get one.”
Linley’s father pushed his chair back from the table, causing the legs of which to scrape across the hardwood floor, making everyone at the table cringe.
“Papa, please!” Linley begged. “Cousin Berenice means well. You both have my best interest at heart, but whether or not I marry is not your decision. It is mine. And when the time comes, I will make it for myself.”
CHAPTER NINE
Linley stood at the base of the winding staircase. Berenice stood on one side of her, and her father stood on the other. Neither had exchanged a word to each other since the argument that morning. Each ascending step was both an agony and a relief for Linley—the tension between her chaperones hung thick and uncomfortable in the air. She longed to escape them, but the only means of escape was into the ballroom, and she wasn’t sure her nerves could handle that.
On the top step, Linley was introduced to her hosts, the Robesons. From there, she and her party descended into the ballroom.
An orchestra played from the gallery above, their music seeming to materialize from the chandeliers. Well-dressed couples twirled around the dance floor below and others crowded along the mirrored walls. The music was loud, and the conversation louder. Laughter was everywhere. Linley grew dizzy from it.
Her father placed a reassuring hand beneath her arm, guiding her down the rest of the stairs and into the assembly of guests. Berenice held Linley’s dance card, eager to pencil in the name of any suitable young man desirous of an introduction. It was clear her father and his cousin would fight over her the entire night just to prove a point.
“Miss Talbot-Martin!” Gaynor materialized from the crowd, calling her name. “How marvelous you look!”
Linley couldn’t see how she held a candle to the beautiful Miss Robeson. Gaynor’s thick hair was tucked neatly into a feathered headdress, and she wore a gown of the finest crepe de chine. It clung to her perfect figure as if she had been poured into it. As far as Linley was concerned, Gaynor Robeson had no equal.
“It is you who looks marvelous,” she said, finally finding her voice.
Gaynor waved her off. “This is a horrid dress. I look like a fat peacock!” She wiggled the feathers on her head for emphasis.
Linley wanted to protest, but at that moment, a young gentleman pushed his way to their side.
“Miss Talbot-Martin, this is my elder brother, Allard,” Gaynor explained. “Allard, Miss Linley Talbot-Martin.”
“How do you do?” he said.
If Linley thought Gaynor beautiful, Allard Robeson must be the most handsome man alive. Unfortunately, he must not have thought so highly of Linley. Forgetting her completely, he entered into a lively conversation with her father. He never even asked for her dance card.
Gaynor either did not notice or did not care. “Even though this is only the beginning of the season, we have quite a turnout tonight,” she said, glancing around the enormous ballroom. “Hopefully everyone brought their chequebooks. Mama will be so upset if she doesn’t raise a fortune for the Portrait Gallery. It is her pet project.”
“What exactly is the National Portrait Gallery?” Linley asked.
“It houses portraits of famous British people.”
“And do balls like this raise a lot of money for it?”
Gaynor nodded, sending her feathered headdress dancing. “Usually. That’s why Mama would be crushed if hers was a failure.”
“I would like to visit the Gallery while I’m here in London.”
Instead of being encouraged by Linley’s interest, Gaynor frowned. “Ugh! It’s dreadfully boring. Once you’ve seen one portrait of the Duke of Wellington, you’ve seen them all. The Royal Academy Exhibition is much more fun.”
“Then I suppose I will have to add that one to my list as well,” Linley said. “I want to see everything London has to offer—all the best museums, and galleries, and the opera, and—”
“Excuse me, Miss Talbot-Martin, but I see Lord Littlecote, and I promised him this waltz.” With that, the young woman disappeared into the crowd of dancers, leaving Linley standing on the sidelines.
“Button,” her father said, taking her arm. “I believe it is time we started making our rounds. I’ve just learned that the Earl of Dorrough has a fascination with Celtic artifacts of the early Bronze Age.”
Berenice pulled at Linley’s other arm. “Oh no you don’t, Bedford! You are not going to ruin the young lady’s very first ball!”
Linley looked from one to the other. There had to be a way to go about this without hurting someone’s feelings. “Cousin Berenice, why don’t you try to find me a dance partner while I walk the room with Papa? No one would be able to choose a more suitable gentleman for me than you could.”
The woman nodded and released Linley’s arm.
“Come now, Button,” her father said. “We have much work to do.”
***