recognized me?”
He clasped his hands behind his back and gave a slight nod. “It is rather distinctive. And I only just saw you this day.”
“Yes. Just.” She frowned, feeling a failure. Blast. So much for not being recognized. He did not know her name, but he knew Mrs. Zaher. It was an altogether uncomfortable situation and made the possibility of discovery on a larger scale feel much too likely.
For now, though, the only discovery Prim needed to worry about was finding her friend.
“I realize we have not been properly introduced . . .” His voice faded and he glanced toward the tavern door. “Are you here with Mrs. Zaher? Or your . . . chaperone perhaps?”
At the mention of a chaperone, she winced. “I—er, am here with a friend. A friend I must now locate. Immediately.”
“Of course.” The young man nodded very properly. “I, too, have become separated from my friends. I saw you were struggling. Forgive me for being so forward. I did not mean to offend. I wanted only to help.”
“Oh? You don’t normally fling ladies over your shoulder like a sack of grain?”
His mouth twitched. “No, it’s not my typical behavior.”
“That is good to know.”
They stared at each other for a long, awkward moment before he gestured ahead with a clearing of his throat. “It does not seem anyone else is fleeing this way. Shall we round to the front and locate our parties?”
She could not fault that logic. “Yes,” she murmured.
He held out his arm to her, and she hesitated before taking it, then reasoned that it would be strange if she did not—and she was all for making this encounter feel less awkward. He’d carried her out of the brawling tavern, after all. It would not be such a breach at this point if she accepted his arm for escort. At any rate, the sooner she took his arm, the sooner this interaction could come to an end.
They left the quiet backstreet and rejoined the population steadily swarming along the main row. She rested her fingers on his sleeve very softly, barely touching. That seemed only proper. Well, not touching him at all would be the most proper thing to do, but she was well past propriety the moment she snuck out from her house and entered Vauxhall. She was well well past propriety the moment she and he started speaking without proper introduction.
Those few words exchanged at Gunter’s hardly constituted a break in propriety. The exchange had mostly been between him and Mrs. Zaher, and as Olympia’s mother was a notable pubic figure, that was not so very irregular. Strangers spoke to her all the time, praising and complimenting her performances. No one lifted an eyebrow over the interactions. Well, aside from Prim’s mother. Lifting her eyebrows at the Zahers was one of her most favored pastimes. Second only to lifting her eyebrows at Prim.
This—what was happening now between her and man-boy—would lift Mama’s eyebrows so high they would disappear into her hairline. But then again, this was Vauxhall. Purportedly everything that occurred here tonight would qualify as a scandal and send Mama into the vapors.
As they stepped out from the back alley and strode beneath the lanterns dotting the main row, she battled an overwhelming sense of vulnerability. Prim felt as though her mask had been ripped away. He knew she was connected to the Zahers. He could easily discover her identity if he was so inclined.
They approached the front of the tavern and stopped, scanning their surroundings. Prim recognized several people from inside the tavern now lingering about, but no bright canary dress in sight.
“Do you see your friend?” he asked.
“No.” Frowning, she shook her head.
He motioned down the row. “Shall we continue down the path a ways? See if they’re searching for us ahead?”
She nodded jerkily and together they proceeded.
A few moments passed and then she gave herself a little shake, realizing she had not asked him in turn. “What of you? Do you see your friends?”
“No, unfortunately.”
They fell into an uneasy silence—at least on her part.
She was so flustered. She fought the urge to lift her hand away from his arm, and instead took a deep breath. She needed to focus on finding Olympia.
“Have you been here before?” Her companion’s deep voice broke through the silence between them, politely inquiring. She swallowed back the thick lump of anxiety in her throat and willed her heart to cease its gallop.
Young men did not speak to her. She did not speak to