Keeping someone's confidence at the potential expense of someone else's trust wasn't easy. Peggy didn't like doing it, but there was very little that a friend could ask of her that she wouldn't at least try to do. It bothered her to ignore falsehoods that painted Bucky like some unhinged monster, and it bothered her to know that people could so easily (and happily) buy into that image of him. It was bothering her now to let people think Steve, Bucky, and Natasha were involved with one another, but what was most unsettling was how she couldn't decide if it bothered her because it wasn't true, or because it made her jealous.
That wasn't a comfortable thing to realize. She knew why her relationship with Steve didn't need advertising. They'd mutually agreed on discretion. This, in fact, was a bit of fortunate coincidence because it made it that much easier for her to step back and put distance between them in the public eye. No one cared about one dinner they'd shared in light of juicy gossip like this. People were far more willing to spread around the image of three Victors in bed, after all, especially with the reputations all three had cultivated in certain circles.
Now she was going to have to grit her teeth and deal with a lot of snickering and elbowing, and sly little looks over cocktails, and the whole thing made her want to throw those cocktails into people's faces because it was ridiculous. Peggy had never cared for nonsense. She liked it even less when she had to contribute to it.
"How often have you known Bucky to be willing to share?" Peggy sighed, mournful. "He's so guarded and still so willing to let everyone think the worst of him because he thinks the worst of himself, and I hate it." He was her friend, but sometimes he listened to her about as well as Steve did. Maybe it was contagious, or something in the water here. That would certainly explain why some of her tributes refused to follow her lead. They bred them stubborn in the districts.
Glancing up, cheek pressed warmly into Steve's broad palm, she tried to muster a smile. It helped, hearing that he didn't blame her for keeping information to herself, especially information about a friend. And she didn't have to be reassured that Steve wasn't really interested in sharing a bed with Bucky or Natasha.
Not... really, anyway. She knew it. She did.
"I know. There's always something new to gossip about and no one's attention span lasts long," Peggy agreed, reaching up to cover his hand. "I hate that it happened, or that I inadvertently contributed to something that led to your being punched." Nose wrinkling, she studied his bruised face with something that looked like equal parts concern and disapproval.