their heads, for their smart dresses, for the baubles that far outshone anything Prim or her sisters possessed.
Mama was not impressed by any of it because of who Mrs. Zaher was.
Mrs. Zaher performed before audiences for coin. Considerable coin or not, such activity was forever a blemish against her in Mama’s eyes. Mama maintained that gentlewomen did not labor for their livelihoods—not any more than gentlemen should—to do so was common as far as Mama was concerned.
Only Mrs. Zaher’s renown and popularity and connections kept Mama’s disdain in check. Without Mama’s small-minded ways, Prim would not be allowed to be friends with Olympia.
A strange twist of conditions, but there it was. Of course Mama was ridiculous and shallow—all traits Prim abhorred—but Mama’s inability to overlook Mrs. Zaher’s popularity among the ton worked in Prim’s favor. For no other reason would Mama have permitted Primrose to spend time with Olympia. Mama was forever harping on the fact that Mrs. Zaher was a woman, a widow, and a foreigner, in addition to daring to toil in the lowly arts.
Once safely ensconced in the Zaher’s carriage, Prim settled against the luxurious velvet squabs for the short ride to the popular teashop.
Berkley Square was crowded as usual and it took some careful maneuvering for the coachman to take Prim as close as possible to the door of the shop. Once the vehicle had stopped, she waited anxiously for the carriage door to open and a doorman to hand her down.
Prim called a quick thank-you to the coachman and faced the shop, where Olympia and her mother likely already waited inside.
Primrose was mistaken.
Prim stood in the threshold, clutching her reticule close, scanning the shop and trying not to feel awkward in her aloneness, but it appeared they had not arrived.
Almost every table was occupied with very fashionable people, as always. Of course, Gunter’s catered only to those privileged enough to splurge coin on ices and cakes and sweet biscuits. Prim had been to the shop a few times before with Olympia, never with her own mother and sisters though. It was a place where one might see and be seen. One of the very few places a young girl who was not officially out in Society could frequent.
Feeling the stares of those intimidatingly fashionable people on her now, Prim moved out of the threshold and to a side wall. Leaning against it, she hoped that she, an unaccompanied lady, might attract less notice in this new position. As willing as she was to bend the rules, she knew arriving here unescorted was simply not done for a young lady. More importantly, it was exceedingly awkward. Her heart pounded painfully in her chest as she waited, wishing now that she had been late.
Fortunately, she did not see anyone she knew. The last thing she needed was word getting back to Mama that her youngest daughter was spotted at Gunter’s alone.
A bell jingled at the door as new customers entered.
It was a trio of well-dressed gentlemen. Prim could glimpse only their profiles, then the backs of their heads as they advanced into the shop, moving past her without a glance her way.
They carried themselves with the confidence and assurance of male entitlement. They were gentry. She surmised that at once from the boldness of their strides and the raucous nature of their voices and laughter. The fine cut of their clothing, if not their bearing, proclaimed these young bucks to be good ton.
They were just short of disruptive. Not that anyone would dare take them to task if they actually crossed that line. Everyone gawked at them and whispered indiscreetly as they took their seats at a table. Prim resisted the urge to roll her eyes.
She glanced around at those ogling faces in bemusement until it occurred to her that the men were being stared at unusually long and rather intensely. No one was looking at her anymore, as all the attention was riveted on the newcomers.
They must be more than good ton.
They were most certainly gentry. At the very least.
Perhaps one or more of them was even peerage. Nobility.
She studied them curiously. They talked and laughed among themselves, unaware or indifferent to the attention they garnered. A server approached and took their orders.
The table directly to Prim’s right became empty and she slid into a chair, hoping to appear as inconspicuous as possible until Olympia and her mother arrived.
She was grateful for the gentlemen’s presence. Not only did it distract from the social gaffe of a