Chapter Eleven
Primrose read for the rest of the afternoon. By dinnertime the memory of Oliver’s kisses had faded and she was able to tidy it away in her mind as a trivial event. She felt exceedingly calm and rational as she dressed for dinner. When she chose her jewelry she didn’t select the diamonds or the pearls, but instead the tiny golden pendant that she’d inherited from her great-great-grandmother, partly because she wasn’t trying to outshine anyone or catch anyone’s eye, but mostly because she preferred the pendant to anything else.
She looked in on Rhodes on the way down to dinner, and found the valet bathing his eyes with chamomile water. “Ollie already went downstairs,” Rhodes said fretfully. Primrose heard his unspoken words—by himself—and realized that she hadn’t yet had a c
