8

Shirley stood before the two young women with a vanilla folder in her hand. Her face glowed with excitement and nervousness. Violet and her friend were reclining on a cream-colored sofa waiting for her to speak.

"Your Grace, I have found someone I really think you should have a look. She has met all the requirements," Shirley began, "she's young, compassionate and reliable..."

"Spare me the details, Shirley," Violet interrupted. "Let me see her file."

"Actually she's a daughter of an old friend of mine. I have no standard record of her but I do have her photos." She opened the folder and handed Violet the pictures. "All I can say is she's imperfectly perfect."

Florence raised her newly plucked eyebrows in amusement. She scooted over to peer at the photographs that the Duchess was now holding. They showed a young brown-haired woman. There were three shots of her, standing up, sitting down and close-up headshot. All were recently taken just for this sole purpose. Her face was sleep-deprived. Her physique leaned more into the skinny side. At first glance, one wouldn't have noticed anything special about her.

But her simplicity was what made her different. You could feel a sense of familiarity just by looking at her. Something about her honey-colored eyes and her genial yet firm expression. She had an interesting face, too. The kind of face that attracted attention not because it was otherworldly beautiful, but because it was pleasant and warm.

"Interesting face," Lady Florence said.

And one thing that surprised Florence the most was how easily she could picture Violet with this girl. A surge of delight rushed through her, and she felt all giddy inside as if she had finally found something that fit perfectly in whatever it was she wanted to fit.

"What's her name?" Violet asked.

"Clare Leighton, Your Grace. She's twenty-one now. Dropped out of college to help her struggling parents, and currently labors over three jobs to make ends meet. So apparently, she is single."

"Hmm...a family-oriented girl," Florence mused then turned to Violet. She felt like she was a sea diver holding their breath waiting for her friend's reaction.

Violet, on the other hand, looked skeptical. She shrugged and tossed the photos onto the coffee table then leaned back against the couch. She looked up at her secretary again.

"So you suggest that I should somehow treat my fake marriage as an opportunity for some charity?"

Shirley inwardly winced since she didn't expect Violet to nail it right in the head like that. The older women knew that Clare wasn't the bright gem she had found, nevertheless, she still cast her own light. And for heaven's sake, the poor girl deserved a chance in life.

"Well, her mother and I used to be very close friends back in the day," she said. "Jennifer helped me through my tough times, and I have to be honest with you that this is the only way I could do to help her family out."

"What makes you so sure we can trust these people?" Violet said. "The last thing I want is a family theming on milking it out of my situation."

Shirley straightened herself as if to gather her courage.

"I'm not absolutely certain, Your Grace, but we're still going to make a decision, whether we trust them or not. I have already talked to the parents about the contract. Despite their hardship, they were quite proud people and wouldn't agree if it weren't for their daughter's safety and future."

"Interesting," Violet remarked in an uninterested tone.

Florence had a look of disbelief on her face. She couldn't bear it anymore and cleared her throat.

"Your Grace, I believe Shirley has a great sense of judgment. She wouldn't put herself through this if she hadn't calculated the risk."

Violet looked at her for a moment then back at Shirley. Florence's words made sense. Shirley had never disappointed in all the years she had been here. It felt as if the Duchess was being asked a favor and one she couldn't refuse unless she wanted to come off as an egocentric ass.

The Duchess raised a blonde brow as she stared at the photos scattered on the table. Clare Leighton did have one thing that stood out from the rest - she had no flaws. Violet couldn't seem to find anything wrong with her. The Duchess realized she wouldn't mind if the girl were to live at Averbury. With all her plainness and unassuming looks, she might as well blend right into the walls or the furniture.

"Alright then," she said at last. "Get her to sign the contract and get it over with."

~*~

Shirley almost skipped when she got out of the room and back to her office. She did not delay to tell the Leightons about it.

"I will arrange the flight for your daughter the earliest possible," she informed her long-lost friend. "The Duchess wants everything to be well underway within a week."

"A week?" Jenny said. "Can't it be a bit longer?"

Shirley felt sorry for the mother. "I'm afraid not, Jenny. There are a lot of things she will have to do when she steps foot into the Wintour House. All the legal papers and everything. Let's just pretend she's on a long holiday."

"Yeah, a holiday that lasts three years at least," Jenny sighed.

"Remember it's for her own good. I promise you that when it's all over, all of you are going to be taken care of for the rest of your lives."

"I know," Jenny said. "Thank you so very much, Shirley. I honestly don't know what we would do without your help."

"Don't thank me, thank your lucky stars," Shirley replied with a chuckle. "Just tell Clare to prepare for the crazy weather. It can be four seasons in one day here."

After they hang up, Shirley went right into work. The less time she wasted, the better it would be for all of them. She wouldn't want her young boss to change her mind, not that the Duchess would do that. Once Violet decided on something, it was final. But just a precaution in case something funny came up. She knew she had to act fast, and fast she did.

~*~

Days had come and gone in Clare's life, but it felt like minutes. She couldn't believe it was time for her to leave. She felt a sudden nostalgia as she went around saying goodbye to her houseplants. One by one, she told them how precious they were and how they should keep growing and giving flowers even she was no longer watering them. They were like her old friends. Clare brushed her hands over the kitchen table where her family ate together. Her bed where she laid most night, exhausted or in tears. Her home and everything she'd ever known.

"Clare?" her mom's voice called to her. "The taxi is here, honey. We'd better get there two hours early. It's a long flight."

"Yes, Mom, I'll be down in a minute," she said. Her father had already carried her luggage. It wasn't much to take with her though. Shirley had told them that she should only take what she couldn't go without.

At last, Clare closed the door behind her and stepped out into the sunlit hall before exiting the red-bricked building.

"Promise to call me every week, honey?" Jenny said in a tearful voice when they arrived at her departure gate. "And take care of yourself."

"You too, Mom," Clare said and hugged her. Her dad came to wrap his arms around them too.

"If you hate it there, just tell me, I will go and get my baby girl back," her father said. He also had tears in his eyes. Clare giggled and went to hold him again.

~*~

Shirley waited at the terminal with Henry, one of the bodyguards until the young woman in the pictures she was given ten days ago appeared with her luggage. Dressing in pale grey train coat that hung over her like a dead leaf too large for her, a sweater with visible pilled threads, and her dull old trainers, she drifted through the aisle, looking lost.

To the older woman, there was no doubt that Clare Leighton was a natural beauty. But she wasn't sure if this was how she wanted the future wife of Violet Wintour to appear in the public. All the women that had ever stood next to the Duchess had one thing in common, they were all glamorous and beautiful.

For Clare Leighton to look the part, Shirley realized that a little bit of a make-over wouldn't hurt.