Chapter 11 #2
She took her sisters to the refreshment table so she could occupy her mind with something safe. There were even some ladies nodding to her, Abigail’s circle mostly, but people started mimicking them.
Prim didn’t get the chance to bask in the small victory. A servant approached her and handed her a small envelope. She frowned and opened the letter. A handwritten letter. Prim read the message and went pale.
Miss Primrose,
You are still in grave danger. Whoever is trying to harm you is plotting against you still. But I will not sit idly and watch. Go to the garden maze and I will provide the answers you need.
Prim read the note again and again. It seemed that reality had more to stack on top of her.
Her first instinct was to look for Leo. The proof he was looking for.
Maybe this person had them. But no matter how she looked, she couldn’t find him.
Perhaps he got the same message and was heading to get his answers, too.
Prim left as discreetly as she could and ran to the secluded garden maze.
The host declared that it hadn’t been curated, so most guests avoided it.
She made her way there, her heart in her throat, her palms sweaty in her gloves.
The maze was unkempt and looking ominous despite the beautiful greenery.
The clatter of the party too far away now.
She looked around and dared one step in the maze.
“Miss Primrose?”
Prim turned so abruptly, she almost stumbled. There, ready to help her out, stood the Duke of Greyhaven. He was holding a paper in his hands.
“You received one as well,” he stated, not asked.
He extended his hand, showing her the paper. The handwriting was identical to her note.
Miss Primrose is in danger. Go to the garden maze.
“We are being manipulated!” Prim realized with terror.
“We were trapped to come here,” the Duke agreed.
“To cause a scandal?” Prim was shaking.
“Most probably."
“I have one already following me around. A second will simply ostracize my entire family,” Prim shook and sat down on a marble bench.
“Miss Primrose,” the Duke tried.
“You should go. Now.”
“On the contrary. I think this is an excellent opportunity.”
“How is this an opportunity, Your Grace?” Prim was ready to scream.
She got up to leave. She might have time to avoid the scandal. Or if she got out of the maze and was ambushed. Whoever planned this was one step ahead.
“The scandal matters little to me,” the Duke demanded her attention.
Prim looked at him as if he were crazy.
“Manipulated or not, we are here now. It would be a complete waste of opportunity.”
“Your Grace, now is hardly the time.”
“I find it the perfect time. You seem to be constantly followed by Mildenhall.”
Prim froze. She didn’t know exactly what was going on, but the Duke had one thing in his mind, and he seemed like a man who never moved to another objective if he hadn’t fulfilled the previous one.
“I have told you already, Miss Primrose, that I came to London to find a wife and a mother to my daughter.”
Reality was slipping from Prim’s fingers fast. There was a looming threat over them, and the Duke thought that this was the perfect opportunity to propose.
“Your Grace, I-”
“I believe that you are fitting for the role.”
Prim chuckled. She deserved as much. This was, at worst, absurd and at best amusing. The Duke didn’t seem offended, but she offered her apologies nonetheless.
“I apologize, Your Grace, but it is as if talking about finding a governess for your daughter.”
“I am not. I am looking for a Duchess to help me manage my estate and a female presence to take care of the upbringing of a young lady.”
Prim crumbled the note in her fingers, looking at the Duke in disbelief. A proposal. Decent and precise. By a powerful Duke.
“What I offer is clear, Miss Primrose. You will be the Duchess of Greyhaven. I will not touch your dowry. It will be yours to use as you see fit. I will add a stipend for your convenience.”
“You speak of marriage,” she said carefully, “as if it were an acquisition.”
“It is an alliance,” he corrected. “I offer you strength and my protection for you and your family.”
“So, I get money, and I get protection. Nothing else,” Prim decided to be as direct as he was.
The Duke nodded in approval. This was the way that he could enter a conversation. Not fake politeness and covert questions. Open statements.
“You would have my respect. But you speak of emotions.”
“I do.”
“You are wondering about love.”
Prim froze at the blatant comment, regarding a matter not only delicate and profound. It wasn't that he was thinking of love, but she did think of some emotional relationship with your husband. Yet The Duke remained a statue of impassiveness, not even realizing her struggles.
“I do not require love, nor do I offer it. I will be fair to you and never cruel. On this, you have my word.”
A dark scowl came over her face. She could picture her life at Greyhaven.
Protected and sheltered, safe and comfortable.
Quiet dinners, lonely rooms, empty bed. Another thought raced to her mind.
There would never be flaming kisses on the terrace nor stolen kisses against trees.
Not touches to awaken her, not looks that made her heart flutter.
“Miss Primrose, Mildenhall will never propose.”
Her eyes snapped into his in an instant. If there was irritation, anger, jealousy, or even mockery in his words, the Duke showed none. Prim felt exposed, her thoughts read and interpreted.
“I believe there is enough passion between you and Mildenhall.”
She gasped at hearing him talk too freely, not an ounce of judgment. She opened her mouth to say something, to defend herself, her honor, to lie. But nothing came out. She could respect the Duke so as not to offend him by pretending there was nothing between her and Leo.
“Passion soars fast, and just as fast it flickers. I am offering you more. And I am offering something that he would never give. That men like him never give. Stability. And I offer myself. I would never disrespect you by being unfaithful.”
Prim saw another future unravel before her.
Her, burning in desire for Leo, throwing all logic in the wind, her resolve chipped away by his kisses and touches.
Her reputation in ultimate shambles, her sisters ruined, her family destitute, and herself left with nothing but the ashes of a passion that had consumed her but could not sustain her.
Nathaniel was promising her a stable fortress. Leo was offering a wildfire.
“Your answer, Miss Primrose.”
She knew she had to say yes. Take this man’s hand and enter the garden party as the Duchess of Greyhaven, untouchable, her family elevated and safe. Still, that little word was rolling in her mouth, sweet, dangerous, alluring. No.
“Miss Primrose,” he went on one knee before her.
Prim was ready to give him an answer, to have her future decided right there and then.
But then she heard it. Someone was coming, the sound of boots on the gravel.
Prim went ashen. This was for sure the end of her.
The trap was closing, whoever brought her here would expose the scandal.
And then, regardless of her decision, she would be bound to Nathaniel.
The sound got closer and closer, no way out of the maze she trapped herself in.