to the window and parted the drapes to peer out at the square. Prim knew that view well. She knew that across the street loomed Olympia’s stylish town house. Mama was looking directly at it.
Prim settled in deeper on the end of the bed, uncrossing her arms and folding her hands together in her lap. Never had she been around her mother for this long without a word being spoken.
After several more moments, Mama turned back around and approached, stopping several feet from the bed. She stared at Prim with those wild eyes, assessing in a way that felt probing and deep. It was unnerving. Mama had never given her such scrutiny before. “Pack your things.”
Prim pulled back, confused. She opened and closed her mouth several times before saying, “I don’t understand. What are you saying?”
“Pack. Your. Things. Make certain to bring all your warmer garments. It might be summer, but it gets chilly even in the day there.”
Mama spoke so steadily, so matter-of-factly about sending her . . . somewhere.
About sending her there. Where was there?
Somewhere, apparently, where the weather ran cold, even in the summer months.
Mama lifted her chin in familiar hauteur. “You will go to stay with Aunt Bernice.”
“Aunt Bernice lives in Yorkshire.”
Her wild eyes flashed. “I’m aware of where my aunt lives.”
“But you always said she lives in a Godforsaken village in a drafty old house with naught but two servants to attend to her—”
“She was left with a very small widow’s portion and her only daughter married the local blacksmith. She has no one. No daughter to provide ease for her in her final years.” Mama huffed. “Such a tragedy. My cousin should have considered her family and married well.” Mama’s eyes took on a decidedly vicious glint. “As a good daughter ought to do. Instead of selfishly following her own desires.” It was clear Mama was referring to Prim. “Family ought to look after its own. Fortunately, I have a daughter to spare—one exceedingly troublesome and ungrateful daughter. You. I shall send you to care for her. You shall prove your worth and perhaps redeem yourself.”
Primrose swallowed and blinked burning eyes. “But it is so very far away . . .” Her voice faded in a small tremble, pathetic even to her own ears. Far from London. From Olympia. Far from Aster. Even Papa she would miss—however much he didn’t stand up for her. But then he never stood up for himself either. Or anyone. She could not fault him too much.
And she would be far from him.
Far from Jacob.
Absurd, she knew, to consider Jacob in this moment.
He should not even be on her mind. He was still a nob, and she was still Primrose Ainsworth. The gulf between them was wide. Prim being sent to Yorkshire should hardly signify.
No promises had been exchanged between them. No words vowing that they would see each other again. They had not even said a proper farewell.
Her adventure was over. In the past. And that’s where Jacob would remain. She inhaled sharply. At least you will have the memory of your night together to cherish and keep you warm during the long, cold Yorkshire nights . . . whilst he lives on in London, continuing his luxurious and fashionable life.
Prim exhaled.
Mama continued, “You think that you deserve to go someplace better than Aunt Bernice’s? After your behavior?”
“Must I go anywhere? Why can I not remain here? Why can you not punish me here?” It was what Mama had always done before when Prim displeased her.
“The last thing you need is to be anywhere you can get into more trouble. Do you know what would have happened to this family if your shameful little outing had been discovered? You could have ruined us all. For all we know, it may yet still come to light. Perhaps you were seen?”
“I won’t get into trouble again—”
“I cannot believe a word from your lips, and we cannot risk you staying here to stir up more of a mess.”
“I was not discovered.” Redding had not spotted her. At least she did not think so. She had worn a mask the majority of the time. Who else would have known her? As limited as her acquaintances were?
“No matter. You’ve proven you have a penchant for vice. You cannot be trusted.”
Prim took a ragged breath. “How long must I live with Aunt Bernice?”
“You will stay with Aunt Bernice and be of comfort to her in her final years. However long that may be. God