He sighed and looked down at her, his eyes dark and turbulent. Again, the simple truth that he desired her so astounded her. She couldn’t imagine what it was he saw in her. What he saw that prompted such conviction that she could be so much more. She wanted to be that woman. For her. And for him. For that pride and admiration which she so often glimpsed in his eyes.
She simply wasn’t that person yet.
Yet.
“Just go. Please.”
His lips tightened but as Shane broke through the crowd and rushed to her side, he gave a tight nod and turned away.
But something told her that what burned between her and James held its own measure of inevitability. Perhaps once she found the strength she was looking for in herself, she’d have the power to take everything she knew she wanted.
That included him.
* * *
“I can’t imagine what you were thinking, Prim,” Shane chided for perhaps the third time during their short walk back down 5thAvenue to her house.
He’d practically dragged her away from the ball after James’s departure. A move that would no doubt only stir the gossip pots, she’d told him, but he wouldn’t listen.
“I was thinking a handsome man of my own choosing enjoys my company and asked me to dance,” she said, deciding on honesty of sorts. “So I did.”
“And became a source of scandal.”
“I think Mr. Leachman did that when he tried to cut in, don’t you? Did you put him up to it?”
“No, but I don’t understand why you can’t see Mossman is a far better fit for you,” Shane grumbled. “At least he cares about you.”
“You’re the fool if you think that’s true,” Prim said, sighing.
“You’ve got that right,” Jeremy agreed under his breath from her other side.
“He doesn’t care for me any more than I care for him, which is not at all,” she told him.
Now was the time. After what had just happened, there would never be a better time. Prim reminded herself of the emotions James had roused in her with his show of faith and gathered her strength.
“I don’t like Mr. Leachman, and I will never accept his suit. I wishyouwould acceptthat.”
“You’d rather have someone like MacKintosh?”
“In all honesty, I have no intention of remarrying. Ever,” she said flatly, though she knew it for the lie it was. There was one man who might persuade her to concede her freedom. One she’d trust enough to let her maintain some semblance of it. One who’d show her respect.
He’d be as appalled as her oldest brother was now, if he knew she’d even given it a moment’s consideration.
“But even if I were on the market for another husband, why wouldn’t I prefer Mr. MacKintosh over Mr. Leachman? Why wouldn’t I want someone closer to my own age? Someone who might be an active father to my children? Who I might grow old with, not nurse in his old age? Think about what you’d want in a wife and allow me to have the same.”
“She’s right,” Jeremy acknowledged with a nod. “I wouldn’t want to marry someone old enough to have birthed me. I’d like someone with as many years left in them as I potentially have myself.”
Prim looked up at Shane, willing him to understand. “There. You see?”
“But MacKintosh?” Shane still argued. “He’s the worst possible choice for you. He’ll ruin your reputation, if he hasn’t already. Promise me you won’t see him again.”
Mission accomplished. Prim’s knees nearly collapsed beneath her as it struck her. She’d won.
“Shane’s got a point, Prim,” Jeremy added. “I like the chap, but MacKintosh might not be the best man to be seen with repeatedly. He’s had every chance to wed if he were interested. Everyone knows he’s not. We can find someone else for you, right?”
“Yes,” Shane reluctantly agreed when Jeremy looked across her, prompting him. “Weston. We’ve talked about him before.”
But she didn’t want anyone else courting her. She didn’t want to give up James’s company. Not yet. He needn’t know she’d won her concession. Besides, they’d had a bargain and she hadn’t lived up to her side yet.
