Again and again, she had to remind herself that the men in her life were only so overprotective because they cared…perhaps too much. But she’d also thought about James’s implication that they did so because they had little else to occupy their time.
For all her proposal to Mr. MacKintosh, perhaps what she really needed to reclaim her life was to have her brothers and even her father-in-law do some proposing of their own. The question was how to get them to do it and relieve her of this constant pressure to remarry.
To find a husband to not only look after her but to be a father to her children—what she considered their one noble intention—and to see to the management and control of the fortune Fletcher had left her.
No amount of debate over the past year had swayed them to the possibility that she might manage it satisfactorily herself. No demonstration of her abilities convincing enough.
No matter how she pointed out that legally she was in her rights to do it all herself…
“You know there are a dozen widows of our acquaintance who’ve all done quite well for themselves on their own. Mrs. Bostwick, Mrs. Huntington, even Mrs. Tumbly has taken the responsibility onto herself.”
Mrs. Tumbly was one of the vast family of Vanderbilts. Though her uncle had bought her house for her, one connected to that of another Vanderbilt widow, she did manage on her own.
“None of them have a young family to consider,” Shane pointed out. “Nor a long future to plan for.Ah, Prim…if you’d just accept Mossman’s proposal…”
Prim flicked her fork in a slashing motion between them to forestall another repetition of the plea. “Please don’t start on that again. Simply put, I don’t like Mr. Leachman. Is that plain enough? And you know he doesn’t care a fig about me.”
“Nonsense, he looks at you like you’re a treasure.
“Oh, I am, all wrapped in one splendidly large bank account,” she said dryly.
Her brother dropped his silver and ran both hands through his dark hair until it was standing up on end. His frustration was obvious, as was hers. But she was the one with something to lose by giving in.
“Are you having a go at her again?”
The question had both Prim and Shane turning to find Dennis and their other brother, Jeremy, in the dining room doorway. Both were shedding their coats as her butler, Banks, stood ready to catch them. They stomped the snow from their boots without a care for the state of her floors, but Prim didn’t bother to reprimand them as it seemed from their frowns they might be here to defend her.
Her hopes were granted when Jeremy turned his scowl upon their eldest brother. “Leave off, Shane. You’ve become a terrible bore. If I’ve gotten this tired of the entire subject, I can’t imagine how Prim feels.”
“Hear, hear,” Dennis chimed in. “Damn, but it’s cold this morning. Have you some coffee, Prim? Maybe some breakfast for us?”
“A bite might be nice,” Jeremy agreed.
Shaking her head, Prim offered up her cheek to be pecked by them both as they passed by. “And you all think I’m the one who cannot care for myself. Who would feed you if it weren’t for me?”
The two men lifted the lids of her chafing dishes with sighs of pleasure. The sight had her smiling fondly. The morning meal had always been like this when they were growing up. Their mother roping them all into some semblance of civility, which was a difficult task when it came to three boys growing into manhood.
Since her mother’s death, the knuckle rapping and admonitions to behave like gentlemen had fallen on her. If they thought her a harridan, it was only because they made it so easy.
Shane wasn’t nearly as amused by them as she was. “You wouldn’t be nearly so quick to come to her defense if you’d seen what happened last night,” he told them as they brought their plates to the table. “James MacKintosh made a fool of himself over her.”
Prim’s cheeks flamed, but not in embarrassment.
From the door, Banks cleared his throat. “A letter for you, madam.”
She waved him in then took the letter from him, clasping it between her hands. Once the old servant left the room, she leaned toward her brother with a hiss.
“He did no such thing, Shane Aston! He was nothing but gentlemanly. It was you and Declan, not to mention Mr. Leachman, who created a fuss following after us as if I were on the arm of a monster.”
The letter was fromhim.
Prim looked down at her name scrawled in heavy ink across the front of the envelope and dropped her hands into her lap to open it where her brothers could not see.
She scanned the few scant lines, none of which gave any indication as to whether or not he meant to take her up on her proposal. But he did ask that she grant him time for a stroll in the park if she cared to dare the weather. Unless he heard otherwise, he would call for her at noon.
A meeting! Fisting her hands around the note, Prim scanned her brothers’ faces, hoping none were noticing the mixture of apprehension and excitement warming her cheeks.
“I don’t know what you’re so worried about, Shane. I met him at the New York Yacht Club last summer,” Jeremy said. “Smashing fellow.”
