“Really? I’ve heard all the rumors, you know. Some quite recent.”
Heat rose under his collar, much as it had when Maggie had accused him of the same. But James hadn’t given Mrs. Braggstead a second thought in the past couple of weeks. No, all those had been reserved for the lass by his side.
The one whose lips were tightening in an all too familiar way. Her prudish side, which had managed to be subdued over the past few days, worked its way to the surface.
“Tell me something,” she said. “Is it true what some people say about you and Mrs. Preston?”
James gawked at her. Whoever he’d expected her to mention by name, that wasn’t it.
“What do they say?”
“That you live with Mrs. Preston for more than a vague familial connection,” she said. “That you’re her…um, her…”
Horror curled deep in his gut. Not only that others would think it, but that Prim would also.
“Do you think we…? That I…? That I’m some sort oflothario?”
His pure outrage must have been enough to convince her of the fallacy of the rumors. Prim’s countenance smoothed. He could see her relief but experienced none of his own.
“Is that what people are saying?”
“You do live with her.” Obvious amusement tainted the words now. “You could be her kept man.”
His groan of pure misery was covered up by the music and Prim took pity on him, patting his arm. “I’m sure no one actually believes anything untoward is happening between you. Tongues love to waggle.”
“They ought to waggle off in another direction,” he growled. “Mrs. Preston will be horrified.”
“I apologize for mentioning it,” she said.
“No, I’m glad you did. One cannot combat the unknown,” he said, his jaw set. “I’ll make sure the rumors as squashed.”
“Still, I’ve ruined the evening for you.”
“You’ve ruined nothing. If anything, it’s been the most delightful evening I’ve enjoyed in quite some time.” James winked at her. “Besides, we have a bargain, do we not? I’ll not back off from my end when I haven’t had a single young deb hanging on my arm all night.”
Prim smiled up at him, a hint of buoyancy returning at his light teasing. “You haven’t, have you? What a remarkably fine job I’m doing for my part.”
“You are,” he agreed, resting his gloved hand over hers nestled in the crook of his arm. He gave her an affectionate squeeze. “You’ve sent them all into retreat.”
She laughed then. “No, I’m certain it is your attentions for me that’s left them baffled, but only for now. No doubt they’ll regroup and develop a new plan of attack.”
His lips twitched. “All the more reason for you to stay close to my side. Together we’ve developed a proven deterrent.”
* * *
The orchestra struck up another tune. Not a waltz but a moderately paced polka. Nothing too spirited for the staid Knickerbocker society. The energetic hops replaced by low kicks and long glides across the floor. Prim hadn’t danced it for years.
James took her hand and pulled her into the flow of couples, dazzling her once again with his skill as he whirled her into motion. Turning her this way and that, he proved himself a powerful lead as she effortlessly floated along with him.
A face in the crowd caught her eye as they rotated around the room. His frown told her he was none too pleased with her for dancing with James again.
Prim sighed, some of the joy the dancing brought her leeching away under her brother’s scrutiny. Why? Why did he have to be so overprotective? So…so curmudgeonly?
Fletcher had still been alive when their father passed. Shane wouldn’t have received any demands from him to watch over her. Surely his brotherly affection didn’t command such resolution on his part. Lord have mercy, James was right.
“What are you thinking about?” James asked, obviously noting her distraction.
“That my brother needs a spouse,” she told him, nodding in Shane’s direction. “As you suggested.”
