That simple word was so much more than just simple. It was an irrefutable period to a question that Prin didn't even have the opportunity to ask. It left no room for negotiation or comment, and the purpose was for this to be used as a warning shot for those thinking of rebellion.
“I see,” Prim said.
She didn't push further because she knew how easily he would snap. They were finally having some quiet moments, and she intended to savor them. Wasting them on fighting for Bridget was not in her immediate plans.
“We are so happy to have you, Your Grace,” Lady Hastings said.
“The pleasure is all mine,” Prim responded, looking around in the opulent venue.
The garden where the event took place resembled more of a carnival rather than a charity event. It had acrobats performing as well as a tent with a fortune teller, for anyone bold enough looking for answers about the future.
There were some items for sale, some prizes for the lottery, and an auction of personal effects of various ladies. The charity partwas admirable, but the social part was even more influential. This particular event was addressed only to the married ladies of the ton. Prim was not only one of this particular group, but also a prominent member of it.
“It is an excellent event you have organized here, Lady Hastings,” Prim said with practiced courtesy. “I would be honored to be able to contribute to the needs of the people through your foundation.”
Lady Hastings’s eyes lit up with the prospect. Leo was one of the richest men in England. So far, his funds were invested… in less charitable institutions. But now he was married, and she, Lady Mildenhall, could direct some of this wealth to the functions of the foundation.
Deep down, she had to admit to herself that it was intoxicating to use the little power that society allowed women by the authority of her name. It was even more amusing to see all these dignified members of the ton who so easily mocked her before, now flattering her and vying for her attention.
“The honor would be ours, Your Grace. Perhaps we could discuss this over the next week?”
“Have you had the chance to visit Mildenhall Estate?”
The woman's eyes lit up with joy. A ducal estate opening its arms to accommodate the functions of the foundation. That was always amazing news. Prim had every intention of using everyinch of her newly renovated drawing room to establish herself as an impeccable lady.
She was tired of reacting to whoever was attacking her and Leo. She preferred a more proactive approach. Having people in debt to her was one of the strategies that she used. Small favors and simple kindness could prove more impactful than Leo’s money and title.
She was ready to collect another favor from Lady Hastings, getting in the inner circle of the affluent foundation she ran, when a voice interrupted the conversation.
“Prim, I was hoping to find you here.”
Prim froze on the spot and for good reason. This was none other than Bridget. Prim turned and found the Duchess of Covington standing a few paces away from her. She was still that beautiful woman with elegance and poise, but Prim could see the weary lines around her eyes and the tightness of her lips.
“Can we talk?” Bridget asked.
Prim thought to herself a little. It was quite the public event, and it would be a bad idea to create a scene. She had worked very hard to create this image that had nothing to do with scandals on the sheets. But it was Bridget, and it was complicated, especially if you found out.
Still, there was something inside Prim, an instinct that followed her since the modiste. That somehow got solidified at the family dinner. Bridget was flawed, that was true, and like her parents, Bridget had to face the consequences of her actions. But deep down, Prim knew that the Duchess was not the one after her and Leo.
“There are a few tables by the fortune teller’s tent,” Prim said.
Relief in Bridget’s face came instantly. Her tight lips softened, and she managed to give Prim a smile, albeit insecure and tentative.
“Thank you so much, Prim.”
“Do not thank me yet.”
“Even this much is important to me.”
They found an empty table behind the tent, and they didn't even pretend they were having tea or a refreshment. After what happened at that family dinner, it would be hypocritical to maintain all facade of civility.
“How is he?” Bridget asked.
“I could tell you the civil lie that he is fine. which is true. He's healthy both mentally and physically. But Bridget, he is angry.”
“He can't possibly believe that I…”
“He truly believes it deep in his soul that it is both you and Aaron coming after him.”
