She let out a burdened sigh, but then smiled as though inwardly laughing with him.
Banks waited for them at the foot of the stairs. Prim shed her coat and handed it off to the butler, who in turn passed it to one of the footmen lingering nearby.
“Could we have some coffee in the drawing room, please?”
“Of course, madam.” The butler paused a beat then added, “Might I remind you of the time, Mrs. Eames?”
“Oh goodness,” she moaned. “What is it?”
“Half past five.”
James puzzled over her expression, wondering why she suddenly seemed so troubled.
“Very well. Thank you, Banks.”
“And the coffee?”
Prim looked up at him. “Would you like to join me for some coffee, Mr. MacKintosh?” she asked. “I’d understand if you have somewhere else to be.”
“I can take a few minutes more.”
She nodded at Banks. “Yes, coffee, please.”
“Right away, Mrs. Eames.” The butler turned to James. “May I take your coat, sir?
James shed his coat and hat and followed Prim across the foyer, taking in the lavish décor. The wide marble tiles of gold and black lining the floor, the walls covered in ivory taffeta, and all the rich wooden trim work highlighted with gold leaf.
It looked like her, he decided. Or looked like the Prim she presented to the world. Rich and elegant yet subdued. The drawing room was more of the same with a fire roaring in welcome. They both went to it to warm their hands.
“I had forgotten the time,” she said. “I guess we shouldn’t have gone out for tea and cakes after all. Though the children loved it.”
“Who are you expecting?” he asked curiously.
“My father-in-law. He comes to dinner at least once a week to see his grandchildren.” Her pursed lips were joined by the wrinkle of her nose. “Personally, I believe he enjoys having the opportunity to lecture me on everything I’m doing wrong in life. You aren’t the first one to point out that my children are in wont of a father figure. Declan has preached exhaustively on the subject for several months now.”
“Have you told him where he can put his opinions?” James teased, though he wasn’t really jesting. More and more he could see Prim needed to stand up for herself. Woman or not, no one needed to live under constant criticism or invite it into her home.
“It’s all so simple to you, isn’t it, James? You think everything can change with a snap of my fingers.” Prim looked up at him, her eyes wide and bleak. “You expect me to be able to change things overnight, but you don’t have to deal with the consequences. When I push, they push back. And might I remind you, this is not at all what I asked of you?”
It was on the tip of his tongue to urge her to push harder, but James held his tongue. She was right. He had no idea what she dealt with. Not from her brothers or from her father-in-law.
He was only now getting a glimpse of what she experienced as a woman. Men he’d seen display the utmost courtesy in the drawing room and business, grumbling with outrage at the women assembled at her meeting the other day. Attending only to mock them. He’d been disgusted by his gender and the laws which had set women so low.
His mother would have been appalled, but then Scotland was a far different place than New York.
“My apologies, Mrs. Eames,” he said quietly. “You’re quite right.”
The butler came in with a tray, leaving it on a table near the fireplace before retreating. Prim released an encumbered sigh as she dropped down into a chair next to it to pour.
“I apologize as well. I didn’t mean to snap. Indeed, your plan has far more potential for my future happiness than my own, and I appreciate your assistance. I do.”
She handed him a cup, black as he liked it, though she hadn’t asked. Was he the obvious sort or was her mind too turbulent to have realized?
“I confess, the time since my mourning period ended has been a trial.” She stood with her cup and saucer and came to stand near the fireplace with him. “As much as I’ve tried to take the reins of my life in all aspects, my brothers truly believe it is my singular purpose to be nothing more than a wife and mother. They expect me to be asourmother was. Devoted solely to hearth and home. And wanting nothing more than that.”
“What more do you want?”
* * *
