a musician who has worked with my mother on several productions. He’s been helping me search for you since we were separated at the tavern.”
Yani bowed very properly before her. “Such a pleasure to find you well, Miss Ainsworth,” he said over the din.
She nodded and then broke into a coughing fit.
Yani frowned and exchanged a worried look with Olympia.
Prim waved a hand in reassurance, regaining her breath. “I am well. I was able to escape before the smoke became too thick.” She glanced back to the smoldering building, hoping no one was trapped inside. It seemed the fire brigade had matters in hand.
“You are certain you are well?” Olympia seized her hands and stepped back to look her over, her dark eyes narrowing as she examined her closely. “How did your gown get so filthy?”
“Er, yes. Sorry about that.”
Olympia did not look heartened by her apology.
“Ladies, forgive me for interrupting, but things here are becoming a bit unruly. I suggest we take our leave.”
Her heart jumped in her chest. Leave. Without Jacob.
But, of course, she couldn’t keep him. Their destinies were not entwined beyond the arches of Vauxhall. She always knew they would have only tonight.
Still, Prim glanced wildly around. The tolling fire bell had not ceased. It rang out in jarring clangs on the night air.
A water brigade had formed, the line weaving like a snake through the crowd. Several people were screaming the names of people presumably lost or separated from them. One individual even had to be restrained from rushing back into the burning theater.
Uniformed watchmen appeared, ushering people toward the large archway, urging them to leave Vauxhall.
“Yes, come along, Prim.” Olympia nodded. “I don’t know about you, but I’ve had enough adventure for one night.”
Prim moved along slowly, reluctantly, still craning for a glimpse of Jacob. She was confident he had left the building before her, forced out on a tidal wave of fleeing individuals, but she still wanted to see him one last time. To ensure he was he was unharmed. To say good-bye. To have that at the very least. A proper farewell.
“Prim! What’s wrong? Make haste.”
She snapped her attention back to Olympia and shook her head. “Nothing. I’m fine. Let us go.”
She was not fine, but now was not the time to explain her night and share with Olympia all that had transpired, especially in front of Yani, who seemed perfectly nice, but was a veritable stranger.
Perhaps the time to confide in Olympia would never come. Perhaps this would be something she would keep to herself—something that was only hers, to be taken out and admired as a cherished heirloom.
A memory only for herself.
Prim followed Olympia and Yani toward the exit. Her friend kept a tight hold on her hand as though she feared they would be lost from each other again.
Prim moved hastily, forced to keep pace with them.
She risked several glances behind her even as they wound through the crowd, the hope of seeing him one last time fading . . . dying like a falling star.
Then he was there.
She spotted him in the distance, and the tight band squeezing around her heart eased and loosened. Countless bodies stood between them, including a line of people passing buckets of water.
He spotted her, too, his gaze skipping from Prim to Olympia, and some of the worry in his eyes dimmed. He’d been afraid for her—afraid she had been trapped in the burning building.
At least each of their fears were put to rest.
Everything stilled, grinding to a halt as nearly all sounds around her ceased to exist. Even the clanging bell was a dull, muted throb in her ears as they gazed at each other.
Olympia tugged on her. “Prim, come along.”
She held up a hand, waving to him in farewell. It would have to be enough because it was all she would get. All she could give.
He lifted a hand, offering a wave in turn, and then he was gone, swept up in the crowd.
A dutiful daughter is the only kind worth having.
—Lady Druthers’s Guide to Perfect Deportment and Etiquette
The greatest duty is to oneself.
Chapter Fourteen
The sky was lightening to a bruised purple as Yani escorted them home to Belgrave Square. Prim didn’t ask the time. She didn’t have to. She knew it was close to the hour when the servants would begin stirring. Hopefully no one had woken too early or was a light sleeper.
Primrose sat silently in the carriage, speaking only when necessary to answer Olympia’s questions. She stared out