A Love That Never Tires (Linley & Patrick Book 1)

by Jeleyne, Allyson

  “Miss Talbot-Martin!” Berenice called from the open door of her automobile. “I hope I do not have to explain that it is quite rude to keep one’s company waiting!”

  ***

  The trip from the station to Bedford Square was like nothing Linley ever saw before. Everywhere she looked, there were motorcars, omnibuses, and horse-drawn carts, not to mention the throngs of pedestrians darting between them and scurrying along the pavement. Advertisements for laundry soaps and bicycle repair shops decorated the streets, hanging from every available space on the sides of the buses and lorries that passed by.

  Unable to help herself, Linley stared open-mouthed out the window. When they arrived at Berenice’s gray brick townhouse, she felt dizzy from the shock of the commotion. The busy streets of Cairo or Rome were no match for London. The city was more than she ever expected or could have ever dreamed in a thousand years. How had she gone her entire life and not experienced this place?

  “The square and its gardens were named after the Duke of Bedford, who owns them,” her father explained, taking her hand and helping her out of the motorcar. “When your great-grandfather lived here, he thought there was no finer man than His Grace, the Duke. So he insisted I be called Bedford in his honor.” Linley did not seem at all impressed at that tidbit of family history, so he added, “And you’ll be glad to know we are only a short walk from the British Museum.”

  “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 streetlamps 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!”

  ***

  She begged her father not to subject her to anymore 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 attendin
g 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 upon 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.”

  The sales girl opened her mouth to argue, but with one look at Miss Robeson in all her finery, closed it again.

  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. Anyone. Ever.
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  “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!”