A Man of Her Choosing by Nina Coombs Pykare

Author:Nina Coombs Pykare [Pykare, Nina Coombs]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Regency Romance
Publisher: Belgrave House
Published: 1980-01-15T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER ELEVEN

In the days that followed Linnet saw nothing of the old Stephen. Farrington was always extremely polite to her, but his eyes never warmed in a smile and his invitation to ride in the Park was not renewed.

Linnet, however, scarcely had time to regret his absence. Aunt Templeton drilled them daily; each important aspect of deportment must be second nature to them, she insisted.

Linnet privately doubted that she would ever feel the real lady, but she held her peace. She knew the forms and perhaps, if she observed them, that would be sufficient. At least she would hope so.

And so the new gowns had arrived, and the evening of the ball was upon them. Fanny, wringing her hands in nervous agony, while Aunt Templeton directed her dresser in the preparation of her hair, cried out in despair, “Oh, Aunt Templeton, I shall not be able to remember everything. I know I shall not. You will all be ashamed of me.” Two large tears stood in Fanny’s wide grey eyes and threatened to run down her cheeks.

“Nonsense,” said Aunt Templeton briskly. “You will do admirably well, Fanny. I am quite convinced of it.”

These assurances of Aunt Templeton’s seemed to calm Fanny. It was almost. Linnet told herself with a little sigh, as though Fanny simply must believe Aunt Templeton. And, if that affectionate dragon said Fanny would do well, she would inevitably do well. She had no other recourse.

For herself Linnet could hope for no such charm. She dreaded this ball. Oh, she was most happy about it for Fanny’s sake. But for her own sake, she was not. She had no desire to go masquerading about in borrowed plumage. She was a plain brown bird, she told herself defiantly. And she had no desire to be anything else, she thought, gazing down at her elaborate dress. No white satin gown with rose knots of ribbon and seed pearls, no Farrington rubies, were going to make a silk purse out of a sow’s ear. Miserably she wished that the evening were over.

The dresser, having finished with Fanny, was now ready to begin on Linnet. “Please, Aunt Templeton,” begged Linnet, though with little hope of success. “Must I be decked out like that? Can’t we just tie my hair up in a bun?”

Aunt Templeton took on her most dragonish look. “Good heavens, child. Do you wish to be the laughingstock of London? This is your coming out ball. You would not want the ton to speak disparagingly of Stephen, would you? Call him clutch-fisted?”

“Of course not,” Linnet hastened to agree with Aunt Templeton, but how could anyone say that? Whatever might be said of his lordship, she told herself, he could hardly be accused of miserliness. Though certain of his other qualities—

Aunt Templeton was interrupted in her general lecture by Abby announcing from the doorway, “Faraday says the flowers is come, ma’am. And he wants to know as to where to put them.”

“Of course. I shall be right there.” She turned her severest look on the two girls.

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