A Love That Never Tires (7 page)

Gaynor took the clothes from Linley’s arms and handed them to the girl. “Once you arrange that, come back. She will have more things for you to set aside.”

With a nod, the sales girl shuffled off in search of a fitting room.

“How did you do that?” Linley asked. “I’ve been trying to get someone to help me for the better part of an hour.”

Gaynor smiled. “You must be firm with them like you would a horse or a disobedient dog.”

“I will remember that. Thank you very much for your help.”

“You are quite welcome,” she said. “Good luck to you.”

The two young women shook hands just as Berenice arrived. “Miss Robeson!”

Gaynor smiled at the older woman. “Hello, Mrs. Hastings.”

“How is your mother?” Berenice asked her, thrusting an armload of clothes on Linley.

“Fine, thank you.”

“I see you two have met,” Berenice said. “I am assisting Miss Talbot-Martin in her come-out.”

Gaynor turned to Linley and smiled. “How wonderful! Mama will be hosting a benefit ball for the National Portrait Gallery next week. I’ll make sure you receive an invitation.”

Berenice clapped her hands together. “That is so kind of you, Miss Robeson.”

“Not at all,” Gaynor said. “Now, if you don’t mind, I must join my brothers in the Palm Court. They’ll be wondering where I’ve run off to.”

When Gaynor was gone, Berenice took Linley by the arm. “You have remarkably good fortune. Being seen at the Robeson’s will secure you invitations for the rest of the season!”

***

With all the work put into preparing for her debut, Linley still had not found the time to visit the British Museum. She had, however, memorized proper address for the peerage and familiarized herself on topics of conversation deemed proper for a young lady of society. Berenice insisted all of this was far more important than expanding one’s mind by visiting history museums.

“History has come and gone,” the woman explained, “But your future is still to be determined!”

So Linley grudgingly went to dress fittings and court rehearsals to prepare herself for her presentation before the King and Queen. Mr. Talbot-Martin also prepared himself for his investiture. The evenings for both events rapidly approached, and both father and daughter’s nervousness increased with each passing day. Berenice handled it all with cool reserve, and if she worried whether Linley would make a poor show of herself, she never let on.

The court presentation came and went with very little fuss. Linley waited in line with the dozens of other young debutantes to be presented. She curtsied before the King and Queen and managed to back down the aisle without tripping over her feet or her train. Afterwards, she went home and slept for fourteen hours straight.

With that hurdle out of the way, the Talbot-Martins could finally get down to business—securing investors for future expeditions.

“The Robeson’s ball will be the perfect place to find people interested in the arts, and with deep pockets,” Berenice explained over breakfast. “Linley’s first evening gown just arrived from the dressmaker, so I think the ball tonight would be the natural place to start her introduction into society. The Robeson children keep very good company. They’ll know plenty of young ladies and gentlemen whom Linley could benefit from by association.”

“I am certain Linley is more concerned with securing an expedition for the summer than with your societal ambitions,” Bedford replied.

“But introducing her to society was your idea.” Berenice shook her head, refusing to be thwarted in her plans for the young woman’s future success. “Surely you cannot expect her to traipse around the world collecting rocks and bones for the rest of her life.”

“She may do so if she wishes.”

“But she is already twenty years of age. Too much more of this nonsense and she will never find a husband. Linley is not an heiress, as you well know.”

Mr. Talbot-Martin nearly slammed his fist against the breakfast table. “If you are insinuating that my daughter could only capture a husband through money, you are sorely mistaken. Linley is smart, sensible, and considerate. What she may lack in beauty or finances, she more than makes up for in other areas.”

Linley sat motionless. She detested being talked about as if she weren’t sitting right across the table from them. Even more than that, she hated the conversation taking place. Despite whatever her father and his cousin thought, Linley had no intention of marrying.

“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.”

***

Linley found Lord Dorrough’s set eager to discuss the Talbot-Martin expeditions. It seemed her father was a sort of celebrity in some circles. She stood at his side, discussing their findings and taking questions.

“I think Woolley and Lawrence’s work in Carchemish looks very promising,” Linley said to one captivated gentleman. “The British Museum is especially interested in the examples of pottery found dating back to the ninth century B.C.”

Her father smiled, adding, “With so many ambitious projects undertaken by the Museum, financial support is spread rather thin. And as we think all archaeological work is important, my team and I would never dream of taking funds from another excavation.”

“So you can imagine,” Linley said, flashing her sweetest smile at the man, “Outside support is not only important, it is a necessity.”

At that moment, Berenice appeared and whispered in Linley’s ear, “I have a gentleman who would like to meet you.”

Certain that her father could handle the rest of the conversation on his own, Linley excused herself and followed Berenice across the ballroom.

“Now,” the woman said, tugging Linley by the elbow. “If you are nervous in his presence, that is quite understandable. I have known many women who found themselves tongue-tied in conversation with His Lordship.” Berenice pushed through the crowd, leading Linley deeper and deeper into the room. “If you cannot think of anything clever to say, for God’s sake, let
him
do the talking. I find that gentlemen of his position usually prefer to carry the conversation anyway.”

The ladies reached their destination, emerging from the multitude of guests, face to face with none other than…

Patrick Wolford.

“Linley, may I present Lord Kyre,” Berenice said. “Your Lordship, Miss Talbot-Martin.”

Indeed, Linley was tongue-tied.

Sensing it, Patrick took the lead, bowing gracefully. “Miss Talbot-Martin, a pleasure to meet you. And may I congratulate you on your father’s investiture. You must be very proud.”

“Yes…” she muttered, dipping into the best curtsy she could manage.

“Miss Talbot-Martin has spent some time abroad, my lord,” Berenice explained. “This is her first time in London.”

“Indeed?” Patrick asked, arching an eyebrow. “How are you liking it?”

She caught the gesture and, although confused, decided to play along with the farce. “It is very different…my lord…what little I have actually seen of it.”

Patrick turned his attention to Berenice. “Mrs. Hastings, I wonder if Miss Talbot-Martin might have any dances available?”

Berenice studied Linley’s dance card, careful not to let him see that it was empty. “It just so happens that she does, my lord. Will you take the next two-step?”

“Gladly,” he said, smiling at the older woman and then returning his focus to Linley. “I myself have recently been abroad.”

“Oh?”

“Yes, I spent some months in Africa this winter.”

“And did you find that continent enjoyable?” Linley asked.

Patrick tried to hide his smile. “Very much so. I found that, once there, a man can become whomever he wants to be.”

Linley’s brow furrowed. She started to open her mouth to speak, but then clamped it shut. Fortunately, the orchestra struck up a two-step, and Patrick led her onto the dance floor.

“I apologize for the ruse,” he said as he placed his arm around her.

“It was a dirty trick!”

“I know.”

As he spun her around the dance floor, Linley took a moment to study him closer. She’d forgotten how handsome he was. Or maybe she never even noticed. Not really. How could anyone forget that dimpled grin or the shine of his beaver-brown hair?

Patrick studied Linley, too. Her brown hair was pinned close to her head. She wore no ridiculous turban or feathered headband. The long, narrow gown of pure white silk emphasized her thin frame and added to the simple elegance of her ensemble. Dressed in tones of white, Linley Talbot-Martin’s tanned skin glowed warm in the light of the chandeliers above her head.

No one could ever mistake her for a well-bred English girl. She was clearly so much more than that.

“How was South Africa?” Linley asked, desperate for something to talk about.

“Miserable. I took your advice and headed north. Ended up in Rhodesia, where a friend of mine put me on to some really good shooting.”

“Did you bring home any trophies?”

Patrick grinned with pride. “Quite a few, actually. I put them in my library at Wolford Abbey.” As if the mention of his ancestral home might ruin the magic of their conversation, he felt the need to explain himself. “I never meant to deceive you, Linley. The truth is that I wanted to escape my responsibilities for a while. With you, I could be Patrick Wolford. With everyone else, I’m ‘His Lordship this’ or ‘My Lord that’. I just wanted to be a regular chap for once.”