There were only two options for her in this dire situation. One was running away, giving the ton the satisfaction of her shame bearing down on her. That would mean she admitted guilt. And Prim was not guilty. And not a coward either. Which left her with the only other option. Keep her shoulders squared, head high, and brave through this.
Prim watched her parents as they blissfully mingled with the rest of the ton, obviously unaware how they were being dragged into ridicule disguised as polite comments.
“Camilla,” Prim addressed he eldest of the twins, “keep a low profile, talk to no one, and keep your distance from me.”
“No,” Camilla was older than her age dictated. “You are our sister. We will stay by your side.”
Prim looked at the girls and smiled, her mind finally focusing on something that wasn’t a haughty Duke and painful rumors. The warmth of her sisters’ eyes kept away the cold fingers of gossip.
“Camilla,” Prim said with a soft smile, “you know what to do. Protect Myrtle.”
“I can protect myself!” Myrtle complained.
Prim smiled at her soft, beautiful sister and took both her hands in hers.
“The world is too cruel sometimes, little flower.”
As if underlying her statement, a cold voice is heard behind her.
“How noble of you, Miss Jenkins, to attend.”
A shiver ran down her spine. Prim felt the cold introductions of what certainly would unfold to be an embarrassing situation. She hardened her face with sheer determination. What anyone thought did not affect who she really was, but how people saw her could impact what she could become.
Prim turned only to find Miss Sears looking at her with a cold look. Prim was right to suspect that her sisters would too be indirectly targeted. Miss Sears was to be declared the diamond of the season. That was till her sisters entered and swept everyone with their elegant beauty.
“We are all here to contribute to a noble cause,” Prim said softly.
“How gracious of you,” the woman’s voice dripped malice.
Prim didn’t care about that. What she cared about was that this little act had drawn the attention of the ton that was expecting a scene like that in anticipation.
“One would expect you to choose modest seclusion. Given the circumstances.”
Prim kept her impeccable smile on, her mask fully in place. She would not let that malicious girl drag her into an indecent scene that would only make matters worse.
“But then again,” Miss Sears went on with a cruel glint in her eyes, “for someone who so shamelessly pursues a Duke, modesty is a rare commodity.”
Someone behind Prim gasped audibly. Others around chuckled viciously. Everyone was watching her with disdain. And among them her sisters that were clasped together as if witnessing a public execution. Which, in terms of her reputation and her name, it very much was. But Prim was not going to give anyone either temper or tears.
“I find,” Prim said in an even, courteous tone, “that at charity events, it is best to remember those less fortunate than ourselves.”
She moved to the donation table, her focus on the silver tray that lay there, an inanimate object that didn’t judge her. She placed her offerings inside, her fingers trembling for one tiny, shameful moment of loss, before she straightened her gloves and turned her back.
Behind her, whispers rose and then died in a cutting silence, both making her feel as if she was walking on thin ice. One slip and she would drown in cold waters. But Prim would not allow herself to slip. Not in front of them.
Slowly and composed, Prim made her way to a hallway, hidden behind heavy drapes. She took a few steps for good measure till she was away from the noise and spite of others. She leaned against the wall and closed her eyes. Her head hit the wall, and she inhaled through her nose.
Tears came slowly, inevitable, and unstoppable. Sobs escaped her mouth, and her gloved hands came up to cover them. Her shoulders sagged, her perfect posture forgotten. Prim finallyabandoned herself to crying. All the pain and the despair she harbored finally came for their dues and claimed her body as it shook in quiet tremors.
Her knees buckled, but even in this vulnerable moment, Prim didn’t allow herself to collapse completely. She steadied herself while tears kept running down her cheeks, blurring her vision.
“Miss Jenkins?”
Prim froze. She would recognize that voice anywhere. It was hard not to. She had been replaying it after all for days. Deep, hoarse, and utterly a problem. Her luck was impeccable. In her moment of weakness of course, he would be the one to appear just to add salt to the wound.
“Are you well, Miss Jenkins?”
As fast as her trembling hands allowed, she wiped her cheeks and dried her eyes. Somehow, him seeing her crying was way worse than the whole ton witnessing.
