in my dotage. You should be quite skilled at it after years of service to Aunt Bernice. That is your fate. In families with multiple daughters, it’s not uncommon for one daughter to remain as a caretaker for the parents. You know this to be true, Primrose.”
Indeed. She did know.
“You have it all planned out.” Prim felt numb.
That is your fate.
It occurred to her that her mother had not arrived at this plan suddenly. She had not decided this tonight. Indeed not. Mama had been giving it some thought for a while now. She was far too ready with all the details. Perhaps it had been her plan all along. Or at least over the last year.
So this would be Prim’s future.
She could not find the words to change Mama’s mind. Nothing she said mattered. She wasn’t being consulted. She wasn’t being asked.
Mama nodded in satisfaction and moved toward the door. “You will see this is the best thing for you. For all of us. In time, you will thank me.”
Her mother believed that.
Prim nodded rather than argue. It would not help.
Mama had decided her future.
Now Prim must decide what she could do to circumvent it. If there was a way in which she could still have a life of her own. Or was she well and truly without hope? Was all lost? As soon as her mother left, Prim rose from the bed and paced the chamber.
She would be leaving as soon as Mama made the arrangements. Mama would not want to waste time, in case there would be any consequences from tonight. That didn’t give Prim much time to work out an alternative to the future Mama had planned for her. Perhaps she could be a governess. If she could convince Gertie to write her a recommendation . . .
She winced. Unlikely. Gertie lived in fear of Mama.
Perhaps Mrs. Zaher knew a family in need of a governess. She knew so very many people about Town, after all.
She winced again, considering her age. Governesses tended to be a bit older. Could she lie about such a thing without being found out?
Her head was spinning with so many wild ideas.
Her mind raced. Olympia.
Her very wise friend would provide insight. She needed to talk to her. After that wretched exchange with her mother, Prim needed her friend. Olympia would settle her nerves and help Prim come up with a plan. Together, they could figure all this out. Breathing a bit easier, Prim moved to the door. Her hand closed on the latch and pulled, but was met with resistance.
She yanked on the latch. Jiggled it. Nothing.
The door didn’t open.
She was locked in. A prisoner in her own home.
Prim snapped. Losing all composure, she banged on the door. “Unlock this door! You can’t do this to me! Let me out!”
Nothing. No one came.
Of course they could do this to her.
She banged and kicked at the door for several more minutes until her toes ached. Until she was spent.
Wearied, she slid to the floor, leaning against the door for support.
She began to sob, pressing a hand flat to the door. “Please,” she whimpered. “Don’t do this.”
She pressed a tear-soaked cheek to the wood.
“Prim,” Aster whispered outside the door.
“Aster,” she said anxiously, turning onto her knees, pressing both hands flat against the wood. “Aster, help me!”
“Shhh. Stop all the racket. It’s not helping. You’re angering Mama.”
“What does it matter? She’s sending me away.”
“Violet is downstairs trying to persuade her against it.”
She sniffed. “She is?” Violet was trying to help her?
“Yes, but cease all your wailing. It does you no good, only sets Mama more against you.”
“Very well.” She sniffed. “Thank you.”
“We’ll try to help.”
“Thank you, Aster. And Violet. Thank her for me, too.”
She heard her sister sigh through the door. “Oh Prim. Why did you sneak out? Was it worth it?”
Prim pressed her forehead flat against the door, thinking, considering her night. She played back everything that had transpired. The lush gardens of Vauxhall with their scents and sounds and sights. Not all good. Not all bad. But still . . . everything wondrous.
Jacob. The dark walk. The footpads. The kissing. Jacob. She’d talked more to him in one night than to anyone else in her house in years. She and Aster might get on together, but she was left alone so much of the time. The time she spent with Jacob had been a balm for her hungry soul.
She would not undo any of it.
“Yes,” she whispered. “Yes. It was.”
Trust in the