“My face is fine.”
“Your face is worse than a man’s awaiting the gallows. You are supposed to be out with a suitor.”
“Supposed being the operative word.”
“Look at the foyer and look enchanted at least.”
“I’ll do my best, but I make no promises. The company doesn’t inspire enchantment.”
Prim looked around at the beautiful foyer, bathed in gold, the twin chandeliers bathing the place in a beautiful light. She felt his eyes on her, but decided that the best course of action is to ignore him for a while.
“Mildenhall,” Prim heard a voice.
“Blast it!” The Duke hissed.
Prim stood terrified and glanced up to him. She was certain that they were in peril. Perhaps those who were after them. Prim tightened the hold on him instinctively.
“Do not be alarmed. It’s the Duke of Ellington waving at me like a man summoning a life raft. Harmless but persistent. It will take a moment. Please stay here. He will definitely say something stupid, and his wife is vicious. Pretend you enjoy the biscuits.”
“I don’t.”
“I know. Hence the pretend.”
He nodded at her in reassurance and went to the man, smiling at him while his wife seemed deflated that she was not in tow. An unlikely thought passed through her mind. One that suggested that the Duke acted to protect her. Quite inconvenient for the polite coldness she had in mind for him.
Adding salt to the wound was how she realized in dread that she hadn’t liked him leaving her side. She felt safer when she was by her side. She wouldn’t admit that even under duress, but she could at least admit to herself as much.
“Miss Jenkins,” a sweet voice was heard.
Prim clasped the biscuit so hard, it crumbled. She turned and saw an elegant middle-aged woman smiling at her. Prim kept her straight face even though cold sweat ran down her spine. It was not the same thing she felt when she braced for the insult. It was worse.
“You are even more beautiful than the rumors,” the woman said. “We haven’t met. I am Bridget, Duchess of Covington.”
“Your Grace,” Prim curtsied.
“I see you are here with the Duke of Mildenhall.”
“He was kind enough to escort me this evening.”
The Duchess glanced over Prim’s shoulder, presumably at the Duke. Prim kept an innocent smile but studied the woman intensely. And didn’t miss the tightness of her jaw before that saccharine smile clicked in place. Something is wrong, Prim knew.
“Such a noble gesture, Miss Jenkins, don’t you think?” the Duchess said, putting a gloved hand on Prim’s arm, “After all these nasty rumors.”
Prim congratulated herself on keeping the mask on despite the eagerness to run away screaming.
“He is a noble man.”
“You seem to admire him.”
Admire the way he has managed not to be savagely killed by anyone by now, Prim nodded.
“You must be thrilled with the prospect of this courtship.”
“I do not indulge in overexcitement.”
“Such a prudent path for a lady. An admirable trait for a Duchess.”
“You are in a better position to judge that, Your Grace.”
