Prim was not that ecstatic. Yes, the Duke’s intervention has improved the situation slightly in terms of no one daring to call her ‘shameless’ to her face. But the rumor mill was still turning.
According to it, there were two undeniable variables in the situation: either Prim was a cunning genius or a villainous seductress. The debate was still raging with neither opinion winning.
Of course, none was the wiser regarding the mundane truth that was more within the lines of her being a silly, silly girl agreeing to an equally silly plan just because she found herself trapped against a door. That would take some imagination on the ton’s part.
So now, Prim found herself getting ready not only in terms of hair and dress. As her mother and her maid fussed over her looks, she was mentally preparing herself to be in the center of undivided attention. They would judge every move she made, every facial expression, every little interaction with the Duke.
That last part was the one she really dreaded. Because that cursed L. sent her heart fluttering. She’d hate to see what her heart would do when the rest of him would appear.
The carriage stopped in front of the Opera, and the Duke was there to help her out.
“You know,” Prim hissed as she gave him her hand, “it is socially civil to be in the carriage you send to the lady you are courting.”
“I got tangled up in-”
“Excuse me, I have no interest in knowing exactly where and who you were tangled with.”
“I was with the Duke of Blackwell in Westminster, but glad to know how your mind works.”
Prim glared at him and glared harder when he met his smirk.
“School your expression, Miss P.J.,” he leaned. “People are watching.”
“Perhaps you should stop talking then. My expression will be fine under those circumstances.”
He chuckled, the bright lights of the Opera making his face look sharper and his eyes darker. Prim closed her eyes, exhaled slowly, and prayed her pulse would behave.
The moment they entered the gilded foyer of the Opera, everyone turned to them. The cluttering stopped, the laughing ceased, the clinking of glasses silenced.
“I was hoping,” Prim whispered, “that we would go unnoticed.”
“I am afraid that is not an option. You are escorted by me.”
“Humble as always.”
“I try.”
“Apparently not hard enough.”
He glanced down at her with a look she did not quite understand, half amused, half assessing, and entirely too focused.
“Lemonade, Miss Jenkins?” He said loudly.
She nodded because she didn’t trust her voice to remain even under all that scrutiny. Leo patted her hand on his arm and led her to the table while keeping his head high, unaffected by the murmurs of the ton. While she was tempted to hide under a table.
“That skill I have to learn,” she admitted.
“What skill exactly?” He chuckled. “Never minding what other people think?”
“Oh, it is plain old indifference.”
“It is. Refined. Cultivated.”
“Don’t use big words,” she smiled as he offered her the lemonade. “You might strain something.”
His laughter echoed in the hall, the people around them looking at them mystified. She preferred to be enraptured by something else, so she sipped on her lemonade.
“Perhaps I should have gotten you something sweeter. Something less sour than your face.”
