6. Chapter Six

Chapter Six

L ord and Lady Everett held a ball the third week of June each year, and Millie's mother insisted it wasn't to be missed.

Though Prue was fairly certain Silas would be there, she had mixed feelings about seeing him again so soon. Worry filled her at spending more time with him when he already held so many of her thoughts. She knew he wouldn't dance with her, which was disappointing, even if she appreciated the reason for it.

However, Prue hoped Viscount Maynard's mother might attend. Though the idea seemed ridiculous, becoming acquainted with her might prove beneficial. Confronting Maynard was out of the question, at least for Prue, but speaking with the Countess of Tinford was a possibility. Each small step she took toward her goal of thwarting the rogues was a victory in her eyes.

She and Millie decided against telling their own mothers and aunts about the wallflower wager, certain they would be appalled at the idea of either of them refusing a dance and therefore risk the chance of never making a match. Though that was a real concern, they weren't willing to allow the rogues to use them in this way.

With luck, Millie's mother could introduce Prue and her mother to Lady Tinford. Whether telling her about the wager would be worthwhile remained to be seen.

Prue told herself she was still gathering information, which helped to calm her nerves.

She and Millie entered the ballroom after greeting their hosts and followed their mothers and aunts slowly through the crowd as they paused frequently to visit with friends.

The room had been decorated to look like a Greek temple with ivy wrapped around the white columns, a trickling fountain in one corner, and numerous potted ferns. Miniature statues of Greek gods were displayed on pedestals along one wall.

Prue sternly reminded herself she wasn't looking for Silas. How ironic that she found him almost immediately. Her heart did a little spin at the sight of his tall form and that irresistible smile, even though it wasn't directed at her.

Still, flutters erupted in her middle and her body tingled as she watched him. She longed to speak with him about anything and everything. How had the meeting with her uncle gone? Well, she hoped.

The lady to whom he spoke was pretty and dressed in the height of fashion. Her sleek yellow gown accentuated her generous curves and its train fanned out in perfect symmetry. Perhaps he'd found an heiress to pursue.

With a quiet sigh, she turned her back on the pair. It wouldn't do to allow herself to fall in love with Silas when their futures were on opposing paths. He might enjoy her company and appreciate her assistance with the party, but their relationship ended there.

Better that she focused on helping her friends by finding a way to teach the rogues a lesson they wouldn't soon forget. It didn't take long to locate Viscount Maynard's mother. The Countess of Tinford was an imposing woman with a stout form and blunt features. She wore more diamonds than most of the other ladies at the ball combined.

The countess watched the dancing with a jaded expression as if she found it tiresome rather than entertaining. Two ladies flanked her, both thin rails compared to her.

"Are you certain you wish to speak with the countess?" Millie's mother asked, clearly reluctant to introduce them. "The lady is not known for being friendly."

"We won't take much of her time," Prudence assured her aunt. In truth, the lady's formidable appearance had Prue questioning her plan.

Speaking with her might be just as challenging as speaking with her son. But a few minutes with her should reveal whether the countess would care about the wager her son had started.

A short while later, the introductions were made, and the lady looked over Prue and her mother from head to toe, making Prue pleased she'd dressed carefully. Never mind that she'd had Silas in mind when she'd chosen her blue silk gown.

"Lady Tinford, it is a pleasure to meet you." Prue curtsied.

"Oh?" The woman lifted her brow.

"I have heard much about your charitable endeavors and admire them so." Prue dearly hoped Lady Lucinda hadn't gotten that wrong.

The lady lifted her chin, suggesting she was proud of her work. "It is our Christian duty to help those in need."

"I couldn't agree more. Mother and I lend support to an orphanage near our home."

Her mother looked perplexed by the direction of the conversation but joined in, sharing a few details about the orphanage. They didn't visit long and soon continued on their way along the ballroom.

"I must say I'm pleased you didn't want to linger," her mother said with a wary glance over her shoulder toward the countess. "She isn't an easy person to speak with."

Prue agreed.

"What did you think?" Millie asked when Prue rejoined her.

"It's difficult to say whether she would be bothered by a wager her son made." Prue sighed, feeling discouraged. "And he might not care what his mother thinks if he hasn't bothered to hide his mistress."

Millie scowled. "I didn't consider that. How frustrating. There has to be a way to show the rogues we won't stand for being used in this manner."

"None of them will win if we all refuse to dance with them," Prue pointed out.

Millie hesitated, clearly torn. "Refusing could ruin our chances of marrying." She shook her head. "We shall speak with the other ladies and see what comes of it, though I worry they will dance with them anyway." She shared a resigned look with Prue. "Some are quite desperate for a match, and I don't blame them."

Prue nodded, knowing Millie was right. Three years ago, she'd hesitated to dance with a rogue but feared it would be unwise to say no. The man had been the worse for drink and held her far too tightly during their dance. She'd done her best to keep an appropriate space between them with limited success.

At the end of the dance, the Marquess of Waltham became angry and grabbed her upper arms, tearing the lace trim of her gown in the process. Frightened, she'd shoved him, and he stumbled, angry at her rebuff, especially when the others on the dance floor stared.

Waltham spent the remainder of the evening telling everyone how rude she'd been. That was all it took for others, especially gentlemen, to keep their distance for the remainder of the Season.

Prue had been relegated to watching the dancing, and the only offer she'd received was from a wealthy merchant's son who liked her father's title more than her.

Though she wished she'd listened to the voice in her head warning her which would've saved her the humiliation, ladies did not refuse to dance with gentlemen without cause.

Time away from London helped her regain her balance if not her confidence. Yet she couldn't allow one rogue's actions years ago to make her miserable for the rest of her life. That meant he'd won, something she refused to allow.

"I considered requesting assistance from the Countess of Bolton," Millie whispered, eyes narrowed. "You may remember me mentioning she is the founder of our literary league. But since she is happily married and expecting a child, I thought we wallflowers should attempt to band together to address the problem first."

"Agreed." Prue thought it best for the ladies affected to be the ones to take action. "However, we shall call in reinforcements, if necessary."

"Agreed."

Yet after a conversation with the first wallflower they came upon, they were already having second thoughts.

"My mother would never permit me to refuse a dance," Lady Catherine Melrose said after they'd told her about the situation. "I receive so few."

"I understand," Millie told her. "But if one of the rogues asks you, they are only doing so because of the wager."

"If it grants me their attention for a few minutes, perhaps they might see me differently."

Neither Prue nor Millie could argue with her logic. Wasn't that what every lady who stood in the shadows longed for? To catch the interest of a gentleman no matter how unlikely it seemed?

"Now I have to wonder if we should even bother to try to put an end to the wager," Millie said after they'd left the lady's side.

"As do I." Prue understood Lady Catherine's hope. While chances were the rogues would never think of the lady again after the dance, who was to say something different wouldn't happen? "I still don't want the ladies to be hurt and humiliated."

Like she had been.

This situation was different. While flattered that someone had asked them to dance, they wouldn't be subject to the gossip she had faced. That didn't change how wrong the wager was.

The sight of Lord Randolph approaching had Millie nudging her with an elbow. Prue lifted her chin, hoping she had the courage she needed, and that Millie did as well.

"Good evening, Lady Prudence, Miss Davies." He bowed and they both curtsied. "Would you care to dance, Lady Prudence?"

"It rather depends." She cast the man a cool glare, taking pleasure in his surprise.

"On what?" He frowned as if she'd lost her mind.

"Whether you are asking because you truly wish to dance with me or to win the wager." Surely an honest approach was best. The rogues would soon know that the ladies had heard about the wager. She kept her tone polite, hoping he would do the same. While far from a confrontation, it was the best she could do. Lord Randolph didn't intimidate her the way Maynard or Waltham did but that only lessened her nerves slightly.

His mouth gaped. "Excuse me?"

Prue lifted a brow, her courage flailing. She didn't think she had the wherewithal to repeat herself when she was certain he had heard her.

"I—I—" Randolph sputtered, clearly unsure how to respond. He straightened his shoulders. "I admit it has to do with the...wager."

"Then no, thank you." Her heart pounded with her daring even as she hoped she'd done the right thing.

"No?" He stared at her in disbelief then looked between her and Millie.

"No," Prue repeated, despite embarrassment taking hold as several people paused to watch the scene unfold.

Randolph cleared his throat, his displeasure obvious. "Miss Davies, perhaps you would care to dance."

"As my cousin mentioned, if it's for the wager, then no, thank you." Millie didn't seem comfortable refusing either but managed it all the same.

His mouth gaped, clearly flummoxed by the situation. "Very well." With a confused shake of his head, he turned and walked away.

"That felt good," Millie whispered, hiding a smile.

"Amazing," Prue added, still hardly able to believe she'd managed it. She only hoped they didn't have to refuse anyone else.

Yet in her heart of hearts, she didn't think she could say no to Silas—if he asked her.

The crowd thickened, heating the ballroom, and time passed slowly as the evening drew long. Prue lost sight of Silas, which was for the best, she told herself. She and Millie were lucky enough to dance a few times with other gentlemen.

They only refused one other—Lord Ulstead. No doubt he had asked them after Randolph reported what had happened. Ulstead didn't appreciate being turned away either, though he also admitted to asking them because of the wager.

Viscount Maynard entered the ballroom as the hour neared midnight but didn't approach either Prue or Millie, much to their relief.

Prue was returning from the ladies retiring room when someone bumped into her as she entered the ballroom.

She stilled in surprise at the sight of Lord Randolph with a familiar lord standing beside him.

Edward Pryor, the Marquess of Waltham. The very man who had humiliated her three years ago.

Fear gripped her and panic took hold. The humiliation she'd experienced because of him came rushing back in an instant. She was once again a na?ve young lady faced with a careless rogue.

"I remember you," Lord Waltham said with a smirk. "Still as clumsy as ever, I see."

"Don't bother asking Lady Prudence to dance," Randolph said. "She will refuse."

"Nonsense," Waltham said. "We have danced before, and I'm sure she would welcome the opportunity to do so again."

He didn't ask but instead offered his arm, clearly expecting her to take it.

Prue stared at it, unable to speak or move no matter how she wished otherwise. If only a hole would open in the ground and allow her to disappear.

Silas's gaze caught on Prue returning to the ballroom, wishing he could speak with her, but since she had discovered the wager, he hesitated to approach. She wouldn't want to converse with him during a ball.

He would have to wait to tell her about how his meeting went until they met for the birthday party planning.

He watched as she paused to speak with someone, thinking again how lovely she looked in a blue gown. Her understated beauty was something he was coming to appreciate, especially after speaking with Miss Maria Havenworth, whose father was landed gentry and had more money than anyone should.

Speaking with the lady was a chore when they didn't seem to have anything in common. He'd resorted to speaking about the weather after they'd shared an awkward dance.

Her lack of a title didn't matter, but he had hoped to have some common ground with the woman he chose to be his wife. Miss Havenworth didn't enjoy riding or reading. She liked to sketch but didn't enjoy much else from what he could gather. She didn't even like cats.

That only made him miss Prue more.

"Viscount Winstead?" Miss Havenworth said. "Were you listening?"

He realized he'd missed her question, but he couldn't tear his gaze from Prue, who still stood by the entrance flanked by Randolph and Waltham.

Something was wrong. He could see it in the stiff lines of her face and body.

"Please excuse me for a moment," he said without so much as a glance at Miss Havenworth.

He wound through the crowd as quickly as possible to where the three stood, taking in Prue's pale face and the wary look in her eyes.

She barely acknowledged his presence, keeping her gaze lowered.

"Winstead, find your own wallflower," Lord Randolph said with a grin, the slur of his words suggesting he'd had far too much to drink. "Waltham and I are enjoying a conversation with Lady Prudence. They're old friends."

Silas had never liked Waltham, and the way he watched Prue made him like him even less. "Is that right?" Based on Prue's expression, she didn't agree, but she had yet to utter a word. Her gaze held on the floor as if she wished she were somewhere else.

"Tell him, Lady Prudence," Waltham prodded. "Tell him we are about to share a dance."

"Perhaps another time," Silas said as he took her arm and tucked it beneath his, longing to hold her until her upset faded. "She already promised a dance with me."

Prue blinked at his touch. For a moment, he thought she might pull away. Then she tightened her grip on his arm, face still pale. "Yes, I had nearly forgotten," she said, her voice barely audible.

With a glare at the two men, Silas led her toward the dance floor but slowed as they neared it. "Are you well?"

She shook her head, but he wasn't sure if it was in answer to his question or to clear her thoughts. "I do not care for that man."

"Nor do I." He waited to see if she explained the reason.

"Thank you for rescuing me. Seeing him again was a...surprise."

Worry trickled through Silas. "Again? Did he hurt you at some point?"

"Only my reputation." She closed her eyes briefly before finally opening them to meet his, unease lingering in their depths.

Anger burned inside him. He needed to know what had happened and hoped she was willing to tell him. Without a word, he led her to an open terrace door, hoping no one noted their movements. The cool evening air was a relief after the warm, crowded ballroom.

He continued on a narrow path off the terrace where the shadows would hide them. It wasn't his grandmother's house where they could speak without interruption, but it would have to do for now.

"Prue." He turned to face her, blocking her from the view of anyone who might walk past. Her gloved hands trembled as he took them in his. That made him angrier. "What happened with Waltham?"

She bit her lip, her gaze holding on his cravat as if it were the most fascinating thing in the world. "It was three years ago. A lifetime, really."

Clearly not for you . But he didn't say that. Instead, he waited to see if she'd share more.

"Far too much emphasis is placed on debuts." She drew a deep breath. "Mine was going as well as could be expected until Waltham requested a dance. It was clear he'd had too much to drink, but I was flattered he noticed me, let alone asked me to dance. So I said yes."

"Of course, you did." She shouldn't blame herself. Refusing dances was nearly impossible for ladies, especially debutantes.

"He held me far too close and became angry when I tried to keep my distance, then he grabbed me and tore my gown." She briefly closed her eyes. "I shoved him out of self-preservation, I suppose, and he stumbled. As you can imagine, everyone stopped and stared. Waltham called me a clumsy girl and left me on the dance floor."

"I am so sorry. The man's an oaf. I have never liked him and now have even less reason to." He kept his tone gentle, doing his best to hide his anger.

"As I said, it was years ago." She shook her head. "Unfortunately, people's memories are long. From that moment on, I was...avoided and spent most balls watching the dancing rather than participating."

"It ruined your first Season." He couldn't imagine how distressing that must've been.

"Yes. It still shadows me. Mother insisted I try again this year, but it's already clear my prospects are few."

He didn't understand how unattached gentlemen didn't see how lovely Prue was. How kind and honorable...and unique.

He released her hand to place his fingers along her jaw, needing to look into her eyes and help her see the truth.

She reluctantly met his gaze again, the sadness in her eyes tugging at him.

"Men like him should not be allowed anywhere near ladies like you."

"Rogues, you mean?" Her attempt at a smile failed abysmally.

Guilt settled heavily on him. "He is a rogue of the worst sort." He shook his head. "You will never be a wallflower in my eyes. Not when you're so beautiful inside and out."

Another smile curved her lips, this one genuine. "You are too kind."

"I am only being honest." His gaze dropped to her lips, but he held back, aware he'd already taken liberties with her that he had no right to. "You are amazing and everything that anyone with intelligence could want."

She stared up at him in the dim light, pulling one hand from his to place on his chest. "When you say such things, I almost believe them."

"You should," he said fiercely.

"Silas." She bit her lip, then before he had a chance to guess her intent, she lifted onto her toes and kissed him before easing back. "Thank you."

With a mutter, he took her mouth with his, determined to show her how desirable she was.

Her lips parted as if eager to take what he offered.

His tongue swept inside her mouth, and he released the tight hold he'd kept on his desire, wanting her to understand what she did to him. He reached for her waist to pull her firmly against him. She fit him so perfectly, her lithe curves enflaming his senses.

The feel of her hands sliding around his neck and the eagerness of her kiss were enough to cause him to moan.

Unable to resist, he lowered his hands to the curves of her bottom to press her against his body. She stiffened at his gentle assault then held him even tighter, her tongue moving in tandem with his.

Passion flared ever higher, and Silas needed more. He reached to cup her breast and squeezed it gently. His breath caught when she arched into him.

He drew back, wanting to see if desire held her as well. Her rosy lips matched the color high in her cheeks, and her eyes were dark with the same need that drove him.

"Prudence. You are lovely and very desirable." He tipped his forehead against hers, needing the contact as he attempted to regain his senses.

They were at a ball. He had to stop this madness before they were caught. As much as he wanted her, he had to marry an heiress to turn his family's fortunes. If only he could remember she wasn't his.

But he hoped this interlude showed her how desirable she was.

"We should go," she whispered.

"Yes." He straightened his shoulders as he released her, smoothing his jacket even as he wished he could smooth his emotions.

"Thank you for rescuing me, Silas." She smiled, the look on her face tugging at him. "You are a good man."

She almost sounded surprised by the admission but not as much as he was to hear it.

Then she moved toward the terrace and hurried inside.

He waited outside a minute or two before returning to the ballroom, glancing around the room with the hope no one had seen them.

Mr. Havenworth watched him for a long moment before turning away, his displeasure clear.

Silas nearly groaned at the realization that he had just lost his chance with the man's daughter. Yet he couldn't bring himself to care as his gaze sought Prue, watching her rejoin her mother and longing for more time with her.