To Polly’s mind, her only passable feature were her eyes. She liked their clear, light shade of blue-green. Unfortunately, her gaze had a tendency of making others uncomfortable and, thus, she avoided making undue eye contact.
But as Em would say, there was no use crying over spilt milk. Full skirts were in fashion, and Polly took full advantage of the trend, obscuring her hips and bottom with layers of petticoats. Against the modiste’s protestations, she’d insisted on high necklines, loosely cut bodices, and dull fabrics as well. A partridge’s best defense was camouflage after all.
“My dress is fine,” she said.
“It’s got yards of excessive fabric,” Rosie pointed out. “One of your dresses could maketwoof mine. That garment hides you, Pols—which is a shame. You’ve a lovely figure.”
“For a strumpet.” She’d caught the way gentlemen ogled her body parts, the animal lust staining their auras.Like I’m a lump of meat,she thought with a humiliated shudder.
“For awoman. I wish my bosom was as nice as yours, and you’ve the tiniest waist—”
“It only looks tiny in comparison to my vast hips.” Polly set her chin. “Leave it be, Rosie.”
Rosie turned to Thea. “Lord above, can’t you talk some sense into her?”
“I think the most important thing is that one feels comfortable in what one wears,” Thea said.
“You see?” Polly shrugged. “I’m perfectly comfortable.”
Given the roomy design of her dress, it was hard not to be.
“When does comfort have anything to do with fashion?” Rosie said, clearly exasperated. “This blasted corset is squeezing the life out of me, and you don’t hear me complaining.”
“Why are you laced so tightly? You hardly need it.”
“Try getting into this dress otherwise,” Rosie grumbled. “But don’t distract me from my point.”
“Which is?”
“That you shouldn’t hide behind drab and unflattering clothes. How are you going to husband hunt with me if you don’t take advantage of your assets?”
“I don’t want to husband hunt.”Because I’ve already found the perfect candidate.
For Polly meant to use the valuable lessons she’d learned. Brockhurst may have destroyed her dreams, but her future was still hers to decide. She didn’t want to be a burden to her siblings forever. She didn’t want to be the spinster sister, shuffling between households with a menagerie of cats. If she couldn’t have love, then she would have the next best thing.
Rosie rolled her eyes. “You cannotpossiblybe serious about Nigel Pickering-Parks.”
As a matter of fact, Polly was. “Why not?”
“Um, because he’s a pompous bore? Not fashionable at all? Besides, you cannot marry him for the simple fact that he’s already married—to hisfossil collection.”
It was true that Nigel had an avid interest in collecting old bones. Mammal, insect, fish, or amphibian—he was an equal opportunity enthusiast. If it could be dug up and placed in a display cabinet, then Nigel’s interest was hooked.
To Polly, this was preciselywhat made him the solution to the problem of her future. In the two months of their acquaintance, he’d been so engrossed in his hobby that he’d never looked that closely ather. He was too wrapped up in his latest acquisition to notice her peculiarity or leer at her figure. He, himself, was comfortable-looking and a trifle pudgy—in other words, her perfect physical counterpart.
With Nigel, she would have a simple, convenient marriage. He could have his fossils; she’d have her foundlings. She’d devote herself to making their life together agreeable, and, God willing, they might even produce a child she could nurture and love. She would be content. If Nigel ever got around to offering for her, she knew what her answer would be.
“You could give Nigel more of a chance,” Polly said.
“The fellow declined an invitation to your upcoming birthday supper in order to go looking for fossils. These are old bones we’re talking about, ones that have been lying around forcenturies. Why couldn’t he wait until after your party to rush off?”
“Nigel says fossil hunters are a competitive lot,” Polly said in his defense. “When he gets a tip, he must act.”
Snorting, Rosie turned to Thea. “You don’t approve of Nigel any more than I do, do you?”
Thea hesitated. “I don’t know him well.”
“But you don’tlikehim, do you?” Rosie pressed.
