11. Chapter Eleven

Chapter Eleven

T he more Prue considered Lady Bolton's words after the meeting, the more determined she became. So determined that she called on her uncle late the following morning, hoping a conversation with him would clarify how to proceed.

She knew above all that she didn't want to live with regret, and if she didn't do everything in her power to help Silas so they could be together, she would most definitely regret it.

"Prudence, how good to see you. Are you enjoying your time in London?" Uncle Arthur asked.

She moved through the pleasantries as quickly as possible and explained the reason she'd called.

"I do think Winstead's plan has potential," he said. "I told him as much and that there are other investors in London who might be interested even though my group isn't. Building a prototype could be expensive but worthwhile to prove how innovative his design is."

"Would you be willing to provide him with an introduction to other potential investors?" Prue asked.

"I would be pleased to. I can think of three who would be willing to meet with him." Her uncle frowned. "What is your interest in all this?"

Prue was prepared for the question but that didn't make answering it easier. The warmth in her cheeks as embarrassment took hold would surely give away her feelings, so she decided on honesty. "I care for Viscount Winstead and would like to help him find success."

Her uncle smiled. "Allow me to write down a few names. Ask if he already knows them. If not, we shall set up a meeting, and he can show them his plans."

At least some of those remained in her reticule, and she was grateful she'd saved them. Hopefully Silas would be as well and not upset that she'd interfered.

Once her uncle confirmed that he saw promise in the windmill design, her next step was clear but not easy. She had to proceed cautiously.

"Millie, might I have a word?" Prue drew a nervous breath from the doorway of her cousin's bedroom that evening. "It's important."

Millie had been out when Prue had returned home, and there hadn't been time to speak to her until now. They were due to leave for the Pollard ball in a matter of minutes, but she had to share what was on her mind—and in her heart.

There was no guarantee that any action on her part would find success. Yet she had to try.

Would Millie understand?

Her cousin had already dismissed her maid and was checking her appearance in the long mirror near the dressing screen one last time. She turned to face Prue, a smile on her face. "Of course. What is it?"

Her expression faltered as she studied Prue's face. "Please don't say you're feeling poorly again." Concern darkened her eyes. "I don't care to attend parties without you."

"I am quite well. It's just that I've been thinking about what Lady Bolton said at the meeting."

Millie nodded. "So have I. The idea of doing something to help the Marquess of Linford see me differently is tempting. But I can't do anything until the wager is at end."

"Actually, the wager is what I wanted to speak to you about." Prue explained her growing feelings for Silas since they'd worked together on his grandmother's birthday party and the hope that he returned her regard.

"I noticed the way you look at him but had no idea things had progressed between the two of you. How exciting." Millie's enthusiasm was touching.

Prue explained about his windmill design and their uncle's support of it.

"If Silas had the funds to make a prototype, Uncle Arthur believes he could generate the interest of investors."

"You want him to win the wager." Millie's reluctance was clear. Prue nodded, waiting to gauge her cousin's response. "I suppose I understand. It's just that I thought we agreed we should show the rogues wallflowers are not to be trifled with."

"I still feel that way." Prue pressed a hand to her heart, wondering if she was doing the right thing. "I know I'm asking for much, but if there's a way to aid him, I have to try. I suppose you could say this is my chance for a bold move."

"Of course it is." Mille reached to squeeze her hand with an understanding smile. "That is the purpose behind the For Better or Worse agenda, after all."

"I don't want the other ladies to be hurt by my actions." Prue bit her lip as her thoughts continued to circle. "Of all the rogues involved, Maynard is by far the most arrogant. I want to believe that forcing him to make good on the wager would be more of a punishment than simply ending it, especially if Silas wins since he has already shown a change of heart."

"And if he wins because the ladies decide he should." Millie nodded. "I'm fairly certain they will agree as he is one of the nicer men involved. He always has a kind word for others and attempted to make the dances enjoyable for the wallflowers, including me."

Prue was touched by her cousin's words. "That is lovely to hear." Silas was truly a good man.

"Why don't we speak with the ladies this evening and see if they are willing to lend a hand to aid your cause? After all, there is nothing more touching to a wallflower than a chance for love."

"Oh." Prue stilled as nerves flickered through her. "I only thought to tell them of Silas's need for funds to build a prototype."

"Prue, if we share that the two of you care for one another, they will be even more likely to help."

Her cousin was right, but Prue was reluctant to share her feelings when Silas hadn't declared himself. What if she had misunderstood? What if he'd already moved on and proposed to an heiress?

"Love is worth the risk." Millie whispered the words as she met Prue's gaze.

Was her cousin telling herself that as much as Prue?

"Yes," Prue agreed after a long moment, her entire body trembling at the idea of what lay ahead. "It is."

Silas perused the ballroom that evening in search of Prue, eager to see her. Surely she would attend and he hadn't lost her forever. What if she'd left London? What if she refused to hear him out after he'd told her goodbye?

He had reconsidered numerous times whether he should explain his plan or wait until he'd seen it through and found success—if he did. Wouldn't it be wrong to give her false hope? There was still a chance all of this was for naught.

But his grandmother's precious Monet was in the hands of a reputable pawnbroker who would hold it for a minimum of three months. That should be more than enough time for the prototype to be built and Silas's design to be proven viable.

And he was determined it would be. If he didn't believe in himself and his idea, how could he expect anyone else to? The time had come for him to step out of the shadow of the Hayward name and be his own man. There was more to him than being a charming rogue, something his grandmother had been telling him for years.

But it was Prue's belief in him that had tipped the scales. If she would wait for him to see his plan through and it found a degree of success, he would consider himself the luckiest man alive.

Panic set in when his search for her in the ballroom failed. He briefly closed his eyes and reminded himself that even if she'd left London, he could follow her. He was willing to do anything necessary to win her heart.

After a deep breath, he opened his eyes again, joy spearing through him to find her across the room, visiting with her cousin. Somehow, her appearance at just this moment proved their connection and that he was doing the right thing.

Now he need only share his feelings and hope she felt the same. His heart pounded frantically as he moved through the crowd toward her.

"Prue." He couldn't see anyone but her.

She turned slowly to face him, a hint of a smile on her face. "Silas."

Her pale blue gown made her eyes sparkle, and her cheeks bloomed with color. Dare he believe she was pleased to see him despite the way they'd parted?

"May I speak with you?" He glanced at those around her, dipping his head to greet her mother and aunt who stood a short distance away, as well as her cousin. It wouldn't do to offend her family when he hoped to be a part of it.

Rather than immediately answer, Prue glanced at Miss Davies, who nodded.

Prue grinned and looked back at him. "I should very much like to dance with you."

He frowned, confused. "But I'm not trying to win the wager." In fact, he'd given up on the idea, having decided to rely on the money the Monet would raise and hope that not only was it sufficient, but that he could repay the pawnbroker and retrieve the painting.

"I know." Prue's smile remained firmly in place.

"But we want you to," Miss Davies added. "According to Lord Randolph, you and Viscount Maynard are tied for first and this is the final ball before a winner is declared."

"We?" He still didn't understand. The wager was the last thing on his mind.

"The wallflowers," Prue said. "I took the liberty of telling them about the need for funds to create a model of the windmill to test." A shy look came over her, and her gaze briefly dropped to the floor before she met his eyes again. "I also shared how much I have come to...care for you."

Silas's heart threatened to beat from his chest at the sweet admission. He glanced over to see if her mother and aunt were listening, but they were conversing with others.

"We have all agreed that it is a worthy cause." Miss Davies beamed. "Besides, none of us want Viscount Maynard to win. We would much rather he have to pay you."

Silas was overwhelmed and deeply touched. "That's kind of you but unnecessary. I have found another way to pay for the prototype."

"Then you shall have even more funds to aid you." Miss Davies nodded and so did Prue.

"As you can see, the matter is settled. We wallflowers are not to be countered once we've made a decision." Prue lifted a brow. "Shall we dance?"

"I would enjoy nothing more." Silas offered his arm, his heart settling into place when she took it. He tucked her hand under his arm, holding it firmly, certain nothing had ever felt better. "You are amazing."

"I am resourceful," Prue corrected with a flirtatious smile as they walked to the dance floor.

"I can't promise anything as of yet," he began, the need to be completely honest dimming the joy of being with her. "If the prototype fails—"

"You will improve it until it succeeds." The matter-of-fact way she spoke was nearly his undoing.

He could no longer deny how much he loved her. She was everything he needed and nothing he deserved.

"Uncle Arthur has provided me—or rather, us—with a list of other potential investors."

"You are resourceful." He should've thought to ask for a list when they'd last spoken, but disappointment had prevented him from thinking clearly.

"Perhaps more than I should be." Her brow puckered, and worry darkened her eyes. "I have a confession."

He couldn't imagine what it was. "What might that be?"

"I kept several of your plans and sketches." She bit her lower lip as if guilt plagued her. "The day you were burning them. I couldn't bear it and saved some."

Silas chuckled. "I thought I had burned more than I realized. How clever you are."

She blew out a relieved breath as they reached the edge of the dance floor where the previous dancers were finishing. "I hope my actions didn't worry you."

"You were determined to save me from myself."

"Winstead."

Silas turned to see Maynard and the Marquess of Waltham approach. "Good evening, gentlemen." Why had he ever thought of them as friends?

"Step aside, Winstead. The lady promised this dance to me." Maynard looked at Prue with a gleam in his eyes that Silas didn't care for. "Lady Prudence? Shall we?"

"Or perhaps the lady would prefer a dance with me." Waltham offered his hand as if daring Prue to refuse.

Prue's hand trembled beneath Silas's arm. He glanced at her, remembering too well her reaction to the lord the last time. Her expression tightened, her unease palpable.

Several other couples leaving the dance floor paused to see what was happening and soon a circle of people gathered around them.

Silas tightened his hold on Prue, prepared to whisk her away from the two rogues—anything to protect her.

To his surprise, she pulled her hand free and straightened her shoulders. She glanced between the two men and lifted her chin. "I will not be dancing with either of you."

"I must insist," Maynard said, edging closer. "A substantial amount of money is at stake."

"Money that you will lose." Prue glared at him, showing no sign of fear. "Perhaps you should admit that making such a wager was a mistake and you misjudged the ladies involved."

"At the behest of a wallflower?" Waltham scoffed. "Never."

"The two of you clearly have no idea what these ladies are capable of," Silas said. "They deserve better than the likes of you."

"Yes, we do." Prue's cousin appeared at her side, and she brought reinforcements. Several other ladies wound through the crowd to join Prue and Silas.

"Wallflowers are not to be trifled with," Lady Catherine declared. He'd danced with her and admired her humor.

"You should be so lucky as to have the chance to dance with one of us," Miss Davies added.

"And if you are, you will remember it," Lady Florence, who had a fondness for lilies like his grandmother, said.

Silas grinned as several older couples who gathered to watch applauded the group supporting Prue.

"The only rogue winning the wager is this one." Prue reached for Silas's arm. "Viscount Maynard, prepare to make good on your bet."

"I am not going to lose." The viscount's outrage was clear as his gaze darted around the group. "Who among you have I not danced with?"

The ladies all shook their heads. "If you can't remember, we can't tell you."

A few of the more popular debutantes and their dance partners who were watching shook their heads in disapproval at the two lords' behavior.

"Excuse us, but I believe the music is starting." Prue guided Silas onto the dance floor, her confidence unwavering.

"Good that you pulled me away when you did," Silas muttered. "I thought I was going to have to hit him."

"Which one?" Prue asked. "They are both annoying."

Silas reached to hold her as the strains of a waltz started, more than ready to put the rogues from his mind.

"Oh, my." Prue stilled, her focus on the group they'd left.

Silas followed her gaze to see the wallflowers had surrounded the two men and were escorting them toward the ballroom entrance. The men looked dumbfounded by the turn of events.

"Serves them right," Silas said.

"I do believe the wallflowers have won the day." Prue laughed as they started to move in time to the music.

"And you have won my heart." Silas looked into her eyes, hoping she understood his meaning.

"Oh, Silas." The joy in her expression made her the most beautiful woman in the room. "You have mine as well."

"Then I am the happiest man in all of London." His hold tightened as they moved in time to the music.

"I knew it," Prue whispered, a smile curling her lips.

"What?"

"That dancing with you would be perfect."

"We are perfect together." Silas held her gaze, nearly drowning in her lovely blue eyes. She truly was the angel he'd thought when she'd come upon him after he fell from the tree.

But as much as he enjoyed the dance, he was more than ready to speak with Prue alone when the music ended. He had so much to say and couldn't wait another moment.

"I have so much to tell you," he began as they started off the dance floor.

"Winstead."

Silas groaned at the sight of Randolph and Ulstead approaching. Was he never going to have a moment alone with Prue?

"It seems you've won. We concede. None of the wallflowers will dance with us, so the wager is over." Ulstead looked around the room. "I thought Maynard was here, but I can't find him at the moment."

"Congratulations." Randolph scowled. "Clever of you to pretend like you weren't interested in winning only to do it anyway."

Silas shook his head. While happy to have won the wager, it was the reaction of Prue and the wallflowers that truly touched him. "That wasn't exactly how it worked but thank you. Now if the two of you will excuse us..."

"Of course." Randolph glanced at Prue as if just now realizing she was there. "I will find Maynard to tell him the news."

"A word of advice to the two of you." Silas held Prue's gaze and smiled. "Take a second look at the wallflowers. You never know what you might find among the blooms."

The lords shook their heads, clearly thinking him mad. Silas didn't care and forgot all about them as he and Prue skirted the dance floor and walked toward the patio doors.

Prue stepped onto the deserted patio, her heart swelling with love as she turned to face Silas.

The support of the wallflowers had been touching, and she was grateful for their understanding. Now she was ready to hear what Silas had wanted to tell her when he first found her earlier.

"Prudence." He took her hands in his, shifting them to the side where shadows lingered. "What I intended to say was that I am ordering the prototype in the next few days." He smiled. "Perhaps even sooner than I expected since you have some of my plans."

Disappointment took hold. Silly of her to have hoped he would tell her something else. "I hope they help."

"I don't know what will come of this, and I have nothing to offer you if no one is interested in my design, but I would like to ask you to wait for me. I would like nothing more than to have you as my wife. My partner for life."

"Oh, Silas." Prue wanted to weep with joy. "I would like that, too."

"I know we haven't known each other long, but I already know that I love you. The future is impossible to consider without you in it." The sincerity in his face caught her breath.

"I love you, too. A life without you would be no life at all."

"I wish I could make promises as to my prospects." His expression sobered. "Perhaps I should've waited to declare myself, but I couldn't. Your faith in me has made me realize I need to believe in myself and my ideas. I might fail, but I have to try. With you at my side, I know I will find a way to save my family and pay the debts. It will take effort and creativity, but I think I have both."

Prue smiled, remembering Lady Bolton saying the risk was worth the potential reward. How right she'd been. "I know you do, Silas. I have complete faith in you. You have taught me to believe in myself, and that I don't have to be at the mercy of fate. Nor do you."

"I suppose we are stronger and smarter than we realize. Those are only some of the reasons I love you." He placed a hand along her cheek. "I want to spend the rest of my life telling you each one."

"That sounds wonderful." She lifted onto her toes and kissed him, pouring everything in her heart into the kiss.

His lips were warm and masterful as they moved over hers. He wrapped his arms around her to pull her against his length.

At last, he drew back, still holding her close. "Thank you, Prue. You rescued me from the moment I fell from the tree, and you continue to do so. You saved my plans, but more importantly, you saved me."

"We saved each other," she countered. "Despite the wallflower wager. Or perhaps because of it."

They kissed, and Prue had no doubt their future would be perfect because they were blessed to spend it together.