It would benefit them both.
“She’ll have it.”
“So much confidence, James,” Maggie sighed. “I’ll give you that, but you’re forgetting one tiny thing.”
“What’s that?”
“Mrs. Eames has told me unequivocally she has no desire to remarry.”
With a nod, James looked down into the amber liquid swirling around the bottom of his glass before tipping it back and gulping down the remainder.
No, Prim didn’t want a husband.
Well, he could find a way around that.
CHAPTER 19
Never be bullied into silence. Never allow yourself to be made a victim. Accept no one’s definition of your life; define yourself.
~ Robert Frost
Friday evening…
Prim poked her fork idly at her bread pudding. Like James’s had been at the Gould dinner a couple weeks past, her focus was entirely on the clock on the fireplace mantle. Each tick of the second hand rang like a gong in her mind. Each one making her feel more and more guilty as the clock rounded the half hour and crept up toward nine.
“Aren’t you hungry, Prim?” Jeremy asked, scraping his fork along the edge of his plate to catch up the last of the brandied peach sauce which had topped the dessert.
“Not really.”
“Can I…?”
Prim nudged her uneaten pudding in his direction before he even finished the question. Then her eyes touched the clock again.
She’d shooed James away to spare herself a moment’s embarrassment and what had she gained? A quiet evening at home? How could she expect him to stand for her when she cowered from the part of herself she loved the most? Restraining herself in word or action had never been satisfying. It’d never spared her from being berated like a child. Or consoled her when she offered no more protest than fisted hands that had her fingernails digging into her palms. There’d been nothing but discontent from her inner voice, which scolded her as well. One victory and she’d given up the war.
Awash with self-loathing, Prim glanced at the clock again. She was a competent adult, not a child. She needed to pull herself together and flaunt it. For James. For her.
There was a battle still to be fought if she wanted to live life as she pleased.
She could begin tonight, grasp life with both hands. Though it was likely James wasn’t going to show up after her curt dismissal the other night. She hadn’t sent him a note specifically excusing herself from the evening he’d proposed. But she hadn’t accepted him either.
Would he take her lack of communication as anothen?
He didn’t seem the type to. Not at all.
And who would she disappoint more if she didn’t go? James or herself?
“What do you say about a game of backgammon after dinner,hmm?” her brother asked as he cleared away her portion with a hum of pleasure. “Oh, and I assume my room’s available for the night as usual?”
“Have you nowhere to be this evening?” she asked.
Jeremy shrugged, finishing off the dessert. “Not really. Shane’s dining with Declan and their old banking chap Ogilvie tonight. Dennis has been a bore since he’s taken up with that burlesque dan…uh, Dennis was unavailable.”
“So, I’ve come in as runner up for the finest company available on a Friday evening?”
He shot her a grin. “Well, it’s not as if you had anything better to do tonight, right?”
Oh, but she did.
