“Or you could put this less-than-amusing idea of yours aside and forget about wigs altogether.”
“That’s some wishful thinking on your part, because I’m now of the opinion that having you sport an unusual hair color is exactly what’s needed to set you apart from the crowd.”
“I believe my propensity for mishaps, my love of books, my lack of proficiency with most feminine arts, my enormous collection of cats, and my questionable fashion sense already sets me worlds apart from the crowd—and not in a favorable manner.”
“I’mthe one responsible for your fashion choices.”
Adelaide gave her mother’s arm a pat. “And you’ve been very diligent with attempting to discover what fashions suit me, even if we’ve yet to land on a style that shows me to any sort of advantage. Nevertheless, with that said, I’m putting my foot down about the wig. The last thing you’ll want to see is me losing a wig in my soup during the first course of a formal dinner.”
“I bet a little touch of glue would prevent that from happening.”
“We are notgluinganything to my head. Besides, no one will suddenly conclude that I’m an intriguing lady merely because my hair is an unusual color. If you’ve neglected to remember, I’m twenty-three years old and have been out in society for five Seasons, both winter and summer. It would be next to impossible to convince anyone I’m anything other than peculiar. Wandering around with a wig on my head will only succeed in increasing the notion society already holds about me.”
Phyllis seemed to deflate on the spot. “Oh, very well, no wig. But we’ll need to think of something to distract everyone from this latest incident. I don’t imagine anyone is going to easily forget the sight of your drawers, what with how they seemed to be sporting some manner of embroidered animals with pointy ears on them.”
“They’re cats,” Adelaide said. “Although they don’t resemble cats—more along the lines of bats, but that’s because Mrs. Bainswright, the woman who made the undergarments for me, has yet to master the art of embroidery, probably because I’ve been the one teaching her. I’m not what anyone would call proficient with needlepoint.”
“I’m not acquainted with a Mrs. Bainswright.”
“Maude and her husband, Alfonso, own Bainswright Books on Bleecker Street.”
“I’ve never heard of that bookstore,” Phyllis said before she frowned. “But since Mrs. Bainswright took the time to embroidersuch an unusual gift for you, it seems as if you spend particular time in this mysterious shop, something I was unaware of.”
“There’s no need for you to start looking all suspicious,” Adelaide said. “I’ve not been hiding anything from anyone, except that Bainswright Books is my favorite bookstore. I’ve only done that, though, because it’s a shop society rarely frequents. If word got out that, in addition to being a treasure trove of rare tomes, Mr. Bainswright also stocks some of the latest romance and dime novels, Bainswright Books would soon see an influx of the social set and would no longer be the refuge I enjoy away from the Four Hundred.”
“Aren’t you depriving Mr. Bainswright of potential well-heeled customers by keeping the delights of this shop to yourself?”
“The Bainswrights aren’t particularly enthusiastic to serve members of the upper crust, especially the ladies, no matter if they’re well-heeled or not. Society ladies expect to be catered to, and Mr. Bainswright is not exactly what I’d call a catering-to sort. The only reason he keeps an impressive selection of dime novels for sale, as well as copies of papers such as ‘The Fireside Companion,’ is because Mrs. Bainswright devours such riveting reads like candy. Mr. Bainswright, on the other hand, would be content to avoid readers who enjoy what he calls ‘fluff pieces,’ because he prefers to devote his time to his rare book section, which is where his profitability lies.”
“How does he make a profit from rare books if he doesn’t cater to the society set?”
“Gentlemen who are interested in acquiring rare books rarely go through the bother of tracking them down on their own. They hire agents for that. Those are the men Mr. Bainswright deals with.”
“But where does Mr. Bainswright acquire rare books from?”
“He has a variety of sources—men who purchase items from estates as well as people who need funds and dust off old tomesand novels they won’t miss. The latter does concern me, since some of those sellers are a rather shifty lot.”
“You spend time in a bookstore that caters to shifty sorts?”
“It’s an unavoidable hazard, given that most bookshops dealing in rare books attract dubious characters.”
“With the abysmal state of your luck, darling, I’m going to encourage you to avoid this bookstore, lest you find yourself tangling with those questionable characters.”
Adelaide waved that aside. “Mr. Bainswright keeps a shotgun at the ready, one Mrs. Bainswright has assured me he knows how to use.” She smoothed a wrinkle from her sleeve. “But speaking of Mrs. Bainswright, she’s bound to be disappointed about my latest catastrophe. She was convinced her gift was going to bring me some much-needed luck in the romance department, because she read a plot line that revolved around unusual unmentionables in one of her favorite dime novels. I’m afraid she was off the mark about the luck business, because I’m sure no gentleman will go out of his way to seek me out tonight.”
“Gentlemen would have a difficult time doing that when it’s obvious you’re currently in search of a quiet room to hide out in for the remainder of the ball.” Phyllis stepped closer to Adelaide. “You must realize there’s no need for you to bury yourself away simply because you’ve once again suffered an embarrassing episode. Frankly, I’m convinced we can use this latest debacle to secure you every dance being offered tonight.”
“The last thing I want is to secure sympathy dances from gentlemen I know you’re going to browbeat into taking to the floor with me.”
“I have no idea why you believe I stoop to browbeating,” Phyllis said, with a far too innocent bat of her lashes.
It was impossible for Adelaide to resist a snort. “You’ve made a habit of badgering gentlemen ever since I made my debut, which means browbeating is inevitable where you’re concerned.If you haven’t noticed, gentlemen have begun fleeing from you the moment you begin breezing your way across a ballroom. They know your particular attention presages another episode where you’ll wield guilt like a weapon to have them fill up my woefully lacking-in-names dance card.”
“I’ve never seen a gentleman flee from me.”
“Of course you have, which is exactly why you’ve recently begun prevailing upon your friends to pester gentlemen on your behalf, something I’m now going to insist comes to an immediate cessation.”
Phyllis smiled rather weakly. “An immediate cessation may not be possible because Mrs. Oliver Wetmore already told me she’s secured Mr. Barton Delafield’s agreement to partner with you for the second dance of the evening. He’s apparently partnering Miss Thelma Cutting for the first waltz, although he mentioned to Mrs. Wetmore that if he’d not requested Miss Cutting’s hand for that dance, he would have been more than amiable to taking to the floor with you for the waltz, something I took as very encouraging indeed.”
