about, but of course they must stop soon. She would have to venture home after this.
The night must come to an end.
She didn’t notice anything wrong at first. She merely thought the dancers had returned and that the audience was shouting out in approval.
She chased one of those surprisingly tasty turnips on her plate, glancing up occasionally to the stage, ready for more scandalous entertainment.
“Um, Prim?”
She looked at Jacob, instantly alarmed at the alertness of his expression. He rose slowly from the table, his hand stretching out toward her even though he wasn’t looking at her. He was looking down toward the stage. She followed his gaze.
The dancers had not returned.
The curtains were still drawn . . . and flames were licking their way up them, the orange-gold tongues of fire eating the dark fabric.
For a moment, she could only stare, not grasping what she was seeing, vaguely thinking she was still watching some part of the show.
Then she made out all the shouts.
Fire! Fire! Fire!
Jacob caught hold of her hand then, pulling her up from her chair. “One of the stage lamps must have fallen over and lit the curtain on fire.”
Pandemonium ensued.
They started down the small set of stairs to reach the bottom floor, but everyone was fleeing at once, congesting the stairs, bumping into each other in their panic to escape as the acrid smell of smoke rose in the air.
An elbow caught Prim in the cheek, and she cried out at the sharp explosion of pain in her face, her head jerking to the side. Heavens. She hoped she would not bruise as a result. She would have to invent a story if she did.
Jacob’s hand tightened around hers and he tucked her closer to him.
When they finally reached the bottom floor it was no better. People were charging for the single door leading in and out of the theater.
Glass shattered nearby, and she flinched as the pungent scent of smoke thickened the air.
Someone pushed her from behind. She stumbled and managed to catch herself. If not for Jacob’s hand holding hers, she would have gone down. But apparently Prim was still in the way. The person at her back took exception. He—or she—punched her.
She yelped as knuckles met with her spine. Her legs gave out as her body buckled from the impact.
“Prim!” Jacob turned, reaching for her, but then he was gone, torn from her, swept up in the swarm of bodies.
She heard him shout her name again, but she could no longer see him. She was lost in a sea of brightly colored gowns swirling around her as ladies fled in a growing haze of smoke.
She struggled to get back on her feet. Someone’s slipper stomped on her fingers and a quick yelp escaped her again.
Suddenly she was lifted up. A hand grasped her arm and dragged her forward. She shot a quick glance to an older gentleman.
“Thank you, sir!” she gasped and then succumbed to a fit of coughing.
He gave her a swift nod and released her arm, intent on his own escape.
She stayed on her feet, thankfully, her eyes tearing in the increasing smoke, as she moved along with the crowd through the door and out into the night, where it was chaos.
Bells clanged, signaling the fire brigade. Already several people were running toward the building with buckets of sloshing water.
She staggered, looking, searching through the sea of faces for Jacob. He was gone. Vanished. It was a melee. A mob of people gathered to gawk. Some to help. A few others were like her, looking for their own companions.
“Prim! Primrose!”
She swung around at the sound of her name.
Olympia charged toward her.
Prim went limp with relief at the sight of her.
Happy tears streamed down Olympia’s face as she collided with Prim, locking her arms around her in a tight embrace.
“Where have you been? I’ve been looking for you everywhere.” Olympia’s hand cupped the back of her head as they hugged, holding her closely as though she feared Primrose might vanish from her arms.
Prim pulled back to look at her as she spoke. “I’ve been here . . . everywhere. Looking for you, too.” She felt a tiny stab of guilt. She had been all over the Gardens on the pretense of searching for Olympia, but she knew she had not searched for her friend as well as she should have.
It was then that Prim noticed the person beside her friend—a tall, gangly young man.
Olympia followed her gaze. “Oh, this is Yani. He’s