“Your first ball was not altogether unsuccessful,” she said, staring out the drawing room window onto Bedford Square. “I cannot understand why no one has come to call.”
Linley sighed, closing the book she’d been reading. “If you haven’t noticed, I’m not exactly fashionable. I can’t talk about clothes, or hats, or even shoes. I don’t know any of the latest dances. I’ve never seen a film,” she sighed again, for emphasis. “There is absolutely no reason anyone here should even think twice about being my friend.”
“Don’t you think that’s being rather hard on yourself?”
“I’m aware of my weaknesses just as much as I’m aware of my strengths. I may not be London material, but that doesn’t make me any less valuable as a person. Why, I’d like to see any of these society girls try to tramp through the Congo in their silk ball gowns. They wouldn’t last one whole day doing what I do.”
Berenice shook her head, “I had no idea I was in for a diatribe...”
“Diatribe, my eye!” Linley huffed. “I had managed to make one friend in this entire city, but between you, Archie, Reginald, and Schoville, I’m quite sure he won’t be bothering with me anymore.”
“Oh! Do you mean Lord Kyre? If he were a man worth his salt, he wouldn’t let three overprotective chaps and one tired old woman run him off!” Berenice rounded on Linley, wagging a finger in her direction. “I must admit I was pleased when he showed interest in you, but from what I’ve heard lately, plenty of girls a great deal more qualified than you have thrown their hat in the ring. You could catch yourself a baronet. A viscount, even. But I’m afraid with your unremarkable looks and lack of fortune, hoping for a marquess is simply aiming too high.”
“Berenice! That is hurtful!”
“Come now, let’s be reasonable. You said yourself that you were aware of your strengths and weaknesses. A lack of fortune can be overlooked for a particular beauty, and a lack of beauty can be overlooked for a substantial fortune, but you, my dear, have neither.”
“I happen to like the way I look,” Linley said.
“There is nothing wrong with your looks. Any man would be lucky to have a girl like you, but Kyre is not a normal man. He has his pick of the wealthiest, most beautiful women in the world. All I am saying is you shouldn’t set your hopes on him.”
“I’m not getting my hopes set on him. You are the one insisting I find a husband, not me. All I want to do is leave this stupid town and never come back.”
“You really intend to spend your life digging holes and getting sunburned?”
“I do.”
“Then why not find a man who’s willing to come along?”
***
Patrick meant to stop by sooner. He had every intention of calling on Linley, but between meetings with his solicitors and visits to Hereford House, he never found the time.
The butler showed him into the drawing room. At the announcement of his name, both Linley and Mrs. Hastings nearly jumped out of their stockings.
Patrick saw the tension coiled in Linley’s body. She looked to be wound tighter than a bowstring. “I am interrupting,” he said. “I should come back.”
“No,” Berenice said. “You’ve come at just the right time.”
He could see tears burning behind Linley’s eyes. She looked like a girl desperately in need of a friend. “Would you like to go for a walk?” he asked. “We could take a turn around the garden.”
Linley nodded, brushing past Berenice without so much as a word.
At the pavement, they waited for a motorcar to pass, and then crossed the street.
“Were you quarreling with Mrs. Hastings?” Patrick asked.
“Cousin Berenice and I do not get along,” Linley used her key to open iron gate that led to the private garden in Bedford Square. “She makes me glad I never had a mother.”
“That’s taking it a bit far.”
“I don’t care!” She kicked at a pigeon pecking the grass in front of her. “You should hear the things she says to me.”
Patrick led her to a bench in the shade. “Here, let’s sit down before you trample any more wildlife.”
“Can I ask you a question?” Linley said, sitting down beside him. “And you have to be completely honest.”
“All right.”
“Do you think I’m pretty?”
Without batting an eye, he answered. “Of course I do.”
“You don’t mean it,” Linley said, turning away from him.
Patrick took her chin in his hand and turned her face to meet his. “I do,” he said. “All this pretty brown hair, and your big brown eyes, and that cute little nose. I think you are a very pretty girl.”
She shook her head. “I saw the way you ogled those sculptures the other day—Venus and Clytie with their big breasts and hips. How can you possibly think I’m pretty? I have spotty skin and a flat chest!”