“Mama will be out late,” Olympia continued. “She’s performing and whenever I don’t accompany her, she arrives home about the time the street sweepers are making their rounds.”
Prim’s mind raced with the delightful possibilities ahead. “I want to dance and drink champagne . . . I want to see acrobats and fireworks and flirt with a handsome man.”
“Primrose Ainsworth, you wicked, wicked creature. I confess, seeing you do all those things will be thrilling.” Olympia gave her shoulder a little shove. “Are you very sure about this though? Your mother would never allow it. My mother would never allow it.”
It was Primrose’s turn to smile. “Then we shall be very careful to make certain they never find out.”
Only the shabbiest of persons ever ride in a hackney coach, and certainly never a lady . . . unless she, too, wishes to be deemed shabby.
—Lady Druthers’s Guide to Perfect Deportment and Etiquette
Consider always that the destination matters a great deal more than the mode of transport.
Chapter Three
Primrose spent the late afternoon readying herself for the night ahead.
She washed, scrubbing her skin until it gleamed pink, and then brushed her hair until it crackled. She did this without assistance. Her mother and sisters required the aid of Gertie and the other housemaid for their evening plans, after all. Luckily, Prim was accustomed to doing a great many things on her own, so that was no hardship, and it may have raised suspicions if she suddenly needed help getting ready for what her family assumed to be a night at home.
Her mother’s exclamations could be heard distantly throughout the house as she oversaw preparations for the evening. Poor Aster was receiving the brunt of her attentions. Mama never once checked in on Prim after they’d returned from their shopping trip. That allowed Prim a certain amount of liberty.
She carefully selected her reticule for the evening to match the gown she had yet to see. The beaded cream muslin should do well enough. She fished out her pin money from where she hid it in the back of her armoire and secured it in the bag. Tonight would not be free, but the dent in her funds would be worth it.
She took great pains with her hair, heating an iron in the grate and using it to form loose curls that she then pinned up as artfully as she could. She had watched Gertie and their other maid perform the task often enough on her sisters. She might be accustomed to doing for herself, but she did not possess their level of skill, so she definitely needed the additional time. The end result was satisfactory, if not impressive.
As the hour approached when her family would leave, she held her breath, hoping that they would not decide to seek her out and say good night.
Her birthday wish was granted. They did not stick their heads in her chamber. Mama could be heard shrieking in the distance that they were running late, and then the house fell blessedly silent.
That left one more hurdle: Gertie was expecting to take dinner with her.
Prim hastened to the dressing table and gingerly arranged a nightcap over her head. She had to conceal her hair. Gertie would wonder why it was arranged with such care for a simple dinner. Closing the drapes, Prim turned to put out the lamp, then climbed into bed, pulling the covers up to her chin, waiting with nervous breath.
The knock soon came. Gertie eased open the door and peeked her head into the chamber. “Primrose? Are you napping?”
Prim mumbled something incoherent, imagining it to be the sound someone might make when being roused from sleep.
Gertie advanced into the darkened room.
“Yes, just a bit. I’m not feeling well.”
“Oh dear.” Gertie sank down on the side of the bed. “What ails you?”
“My stomach . . . it’s my womanly pains. Nothing serious.”
“Oh, shall I fetch one of my willow bark tonics? They do wonders.”
“No. I just prefer to rest.”
“What of dinner? Would you like me to bring you something? Perhaps a soup?”
“I’m not hungry. I think I just need to sleep. I am certain I will wake refreshed if I just get some rest.” She held her breath, hoping Gertie would accept her explanation and leave her for the night.
“Very well.” Gertie patted her arm and lifted up from the bed. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
Prim held her breath, waiting even after Gertie departed the room for the sound of her footsteps fading down the corridor. And then another ten minutes or so just for good measure.
Then she was up, flying from the bed as though it were afire.
Prim manipulated the covers so that if someone peeked in, they would think she was asleep in bed. Her efforts, of course, wouldn’t hold up to a close inspection, but she doubted anyone would look carefully.
She crept from her bedchamber and moved furtively through the house, taking the servants’ stairs out to the back garden, hoping she did not bump into a member of the staff. Fortunately, she encountered no one. She eased the door shut behind her, making certain not to slam it and attract undue attention.
It was rather dispiriting, she realized, to be able to sneak out with such ease. It was almost as though no one cared about her—as though she could disappear entirely and her family wouldn’t even notice.
Shaking off the glum thought, she rounded the house through the side gate, wiping sweating palms down her skirts. As they had planned earlier, Prim wore only a simple frock since she would be changing at Olympia’s house into a different gown.
With the closing of the gate, Prim determined tonight would be wonderful. No more gloomy thoughts. It was her birthday. Who needed a ton party to have fun? She and her friend would make their own party.
It was still light out, and Prim hoped she didn’t appear conspicuous darting across the street to Olympia’s house.
Like this morning, the housekeeper was quick to answer.
“Come in, Miss Primrose. Olympia is in her bedchamber. She said for you to join her there. Shall I take your cloak and show you to—”
“No, thank you! I know the way, of course.” With a wave and smile, she dashed up the stairs, careful to avoid the maid descending with an armful of linens.
She knocked once on Olympia’s bedchamber door and then charged inside. She couldn’t help herself. She was much too eager for this evening.
Olympia was already attired in her gown, and Prim gasped, her hand flying to her throat. “You look beautiful.”
Olympia clasped a handful of skirts and twirled in a circle. “Thank you. I’ve been saving this for a special occasion . . . now let’s get you out of that and into something more appropriate for an evening at Vauxhall.” Her friend stood behind her and made short work of the tiny buttons at the back of Prim’s dress.
In quick order, Prim was divested of garments and stripped down to her chemise. Even her corset was removed in exchange for one of Olympia’s. “This here is a proper one that lifts you up as a corset should.”
“Umph,” Prim exclaimed as Olympia gave the laces a nearly violent tug. “Not so tightly, please. I’d care to eat tonight.” And breathe.
“This is precisely how tightly Diana laces me in. Do you want me to ring for her? She will not have so gentle a hand.”