speak of all their deeds—especially their misdeeds.
Even Olympia and her mother shared in the gossip. There was one particular lord so enamored of Mrs. Zaher, he sent her flowers after every performance and rarely missed a show. He’d proposed to Mrs. Zaher no fewer than four times. Of course, that was exactly how many times he had been married before, and each one of his past wives had expired under vague circumstances. Even more alarming, it was rumored that every single previous wife had died shortly after he made the acquaintance of his next wife, and he always remarried as soon as propriety would allow.
I’ve no wish to be wife number five. Can you imagine? Mrs. Zaher had shuddered as she shook her head. Who knows how long it would take until I’d meet my demise?
Vice, Prim had decided, unfairly or not, was more rampant among the blue-blooded sector of Society. Especially among the men. Women, even ladies, had to take care of their reputations lest they be cast out. The gentlemen had little accountability and could get away with dastardly deeds.
“You are so concerned with propriety?” He asked as though that came as a surprise.
Her temper pricked at his clear insinuation. Prim let go of his arm, disliking his tone. He was no longer the only one annoyed now. He did not think her concerned with propriety? Well, on this night, she was not. True enough. But while she may have temporarily cast aside the trappings of decorum, she did not appreciate his judgment of her.
He did not know anything about her. Excluding the facts that it was her birthday and she was acquainted with Mrs. Zaher, and that her hair was a rather unfortunate shade of red.
But other than that, he knew absolutely nothing.
Prim sniffed as though scenting something foul. What a cad, showing his airs as if he weren’t partaking in the pleasures of Vauxhall himself. She did not care for his attitude one whit—or rather, she did not care for him.
“Just because I am at Vauxhall does not mean I’ve lost all sense of correctness.”
“I did not say that.” No, but he’d said enough. He’d called her motivations trivial and criticized her decision to be here.
“How correct can you be? I would never be so unkind as to insult a lady . . . er, if I were a gentleman that is. Or even if I weren’t a gentleman.” She winced a little. She was babbling. “I would not insult a person at all.”
She suffered a quick stab of guilt at the memory of all the times she had joined Aster in poking fun at Violet when she returned from Bond Street with some ridiculous confection that she insisted was the height of fashion. Prim shoved the memory aside. Violet was a sister. Insults were their love language.
“It was not my intention to insult you.”
“And why are you here?” She pointed at him. “Why is it acceptable for you and not me?”
“I—I am . . . older . . . and . . .” he sputtered, and she knew he was on the verge of declaring himself a man in the belief that that gave him an advantage—as it almost always did in this world.
“A prig?” she queried, blinking innocently.
He narrowed his eyes. “No.”
“I have every right to be here,” she went on to insist.
“Do you?” He angled his head as though skeptical of that.
“I may not be officially out in Society, but—”
“Wait. What?”
“What?” she echoed, uncertain of what she had just said that made his eyes round with incredulity, but already regretting it.
“Let me be clear. Not only have you snuck out from your home, but you are not even formally out in Society?”
“Oh.” Perhaps she should not have mentioned that. She took a bracing breath. “As diverting as this has been, I really do need to find my friend.”
He expelled a rough laugh. “Diverting?” He glanced around as though needing a reminder of their surroundings to fuel his outrage. “You ventured out to Vauxhall and you have not even entered Society yet?” Clearly he was not ready to let go of that.
“I came here with my friend unescorted and in secret. We’ve donned dominos for discretion.” She touched her mask as though to verify it was still in place.
He scoffed. “Let us not even feign that it offers any true concealment.”
She stiffened at his tone. “I do not understand why this matters to—”
He shook his head as though he had not heard her. “It