As soon as the carriage took them the short distance to Oxford Street, Ellen forgot the ridiculousness of not walking. The shopping world of London, like so many other things, was in the midst of great change, and even though she’d been in the city for several months, Ellen just wanted to look at everything. Where once Oxford Street had been lined with drapers’ and tailors’ shops, now, more and more, those small shops were being replaced by massive department stores.
One of the very finest was John Lewis’s. As far as Ellen was concerned, John Lewis’s store held every sort of wonder imaginable. The shop spread across multiple floors of the massive building, and it contained departments for every sort of clothing or accessory a lady or gentleman could want.
“I hear that shops like this are increasing every day,” she chattered animatedly as she, Joseph, Lady Vegas, and Lady Dorrington stepped down from their carriage and entered the building. “Even back home, the seamstresses’ shops are facing new competition from stores that sell ready-made clothing like this. And from the Sears catalog, of course.”
“The Sears catalog?” Lady Vegas asked, sounding scandalized.
Ellen hummed and nodded, but kept walking deeper into the store, gazing with hungry eyes at everything around her. “It’s how people who live far out on the prairie or miles away from the nearest town are able to purchase everything they need through the mail. It’s quite a useful and popular system.”
She pretended she didn’t notice Lady Vegas and Lady Dorrington exchange looks as though they were deeply disturbed by such a process. She also pretended that it didn’t bother her to have two titled women scoff at the things that everyone in her hometown took for granted to make their lives easier. Haskell was not London, and it was unfair of fine ladies to judge it by their standards.
Which was part of the point of Joseph helping her to transform herself. The likes of Lady Margaret would always condemn her as long as they saw her as some rube from the Wild West of America.
“Where should we begin?” she asked, turning to Lady Vegas and Lady Dorrington with deference in her stance and voice that she didn’t quite feel. “Would you ladies be so kind as to direct me to the sort of clothing you think would best suit a lady of London society?”
Lady Vegas and Lady Dorrington seemed a bit taken aback at first, but after exchanging a quick look, then broke into smiles.
“We would be delighted, my dear,” Lady Dorrington said.
As they all continued on to the portion of the store that contained ready-made clothing for ladies, Ellen fell into step with Joseph behind his mother and his aunt. He looked deeply uncertain about their proceedings, but Ellen slipped her hand into his arm again and grinned at him.
“The surest way to win your mother and aunt over is to allow them to do the choosing for us,” she said.
Joseph smiled hesitantly. “Just make certain you do not end up looking like an aged lady yourself.”
Ellen grinned at him. “Why, Mr. Rathborne-Paxton, are you saying you would like me to look young and pretty for you?”
Joseph’s mouth dropped open and he stammered without getting any words out, his face going pink.
Ellen laughed and patted his arm. “Don’t worry. I know my way around a shop.”
It was the truth, but she found shopping at a fine London department store to be more of a challenge than she’d anticipated.
“Excuse me,” she called out to one of the sales girls, waving her hand to get the young woman’s attention, once she’d found a selection of plain blouses that interested her. “Excuse me, is someone on hand who might be able to help me with these?”
The shopgirls seemed to be ignoring her as they went about their business arranging items for sale. Joseph stood at the other end of the department with his mother and aunt, looking at more elaborate gowns. One of the shopgirls was hovering near them, even though they hadn’t asked for help.
“Excuse me,” Ellen tried again, moving closer to one of the shopgirls as she slipped behind the counter. “I require assistance here.” She tried to stand straighter and take on Lady Margaret’s persona again.
That gained her a glance from the shopgirl, at least.
“I would like to see some of these blouses,” Ellen said, making certain the woman knew she was being spoken to.
“I’m terribly sorry, miss,” the woman said. “I am presently engaged.”
Ellen took a breath to gather her patience, then stepped all the way over to the counter. She gripped the edge of the counter with gloved hands and narrowed her eyes at the woman, then asked, “Do you know who I am?”
“No, miss,” the woman said, batting her eyes in a way that Ellen found extraordinarily catty.
Ellen smiled. “Have you ever heard the term ‘Dollar Princess’?”
The shop girl lost her smile. “Yes, miss,” she said, a greedy look coming to her eyes.
“Are you aware of the way American heiresses with an obscene amount of money to spend on purchasing the latest styles have been improving the lives of humble shopgirls who gain commissions from their sales?” she asked on.
The shopgirl’s eyes went wide. “Yes, miss,” she said in a dry voice.
Ellen smiled sweetly and straightened. “My father is one of the wealthiest cattle barons in Wyoming. He has provided me with quite a large allowance to do with whatever I wish.”