7. Chapter Seven

Chapter Seven

P rudence studied the note from Silas after luncheon the following afternoon, wondering if she should decline his request to meet. Their kisses in the garden the previous evening had proved how much she was coming to care for him.

She needed to proceed cautiously. As much as she liked him already, a few more interludes, and she'd be head over heels. Telling herself that he was the enemy because he was not only a rogue, but also part of the wager, was ridiculous. Neither mattered when her heart raced if he was near. He made her feel like so much more than a wallflower.

"What is it?" her mother asked from a nearby chair in the drawing room.

"Lord Winstead requests my assistance with a few more details for Mrs. Sutton's birthday party." Apparently, she'd already decided to meet him based on that reply. So much for her resolve.

"Oh? He is quite handsome, don't you think?" Her mother's encouraging smile had Prue shifting in her seat.

"He is, but he's also in search of an heiress," she reminded herself and her mother.

"How unfortunate." Her mother's brow furrowed. "Perhaps your acquaintance will bring attention from other gentlemen."

Prue didn't want interest from anyone except Silas. Her breath caught as she realized the truth of that. She needed to take care or risk heartache.

Yet part of her wanted to take advantage of every chance to spend time with him. If she was destined for spinsterhood since no offers were in sight, shouldn't she enjoy the opportunity to experience love?

'Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.

Easy to believe Tennyson was right while her heart was still whole.

Two hours later, she was greeted by Wilson's warm smile at Mrs. Sutton's home. "Good afternoon, Lady Prudence. Lord Winstead awaits you in the drawing room."

"Thank you, Wilson." She left her maid near the front door and followed the butler up the stairs to find Silas standing near the table once again.

"Prue." His bright smile as Wilson departed warmed her.

"Busy at work already?" She paused to greet Bertie where he lounged on a chair before she joined Silas, forcing her gaze to the papers on the table, though she was only aware of the man beside her.

"Pondering options, I suppose." Silas searched her face when she glanced at him as if wondering how she fared after the previous evening's events.

What did he see ? She hoped her growing feelings remained hidden, or he might decide he no longer needed her assistance.

She didn't want to be a clinging vine who pined for unrequited love. She preferred to be a woman of the world willing to explore the physical aspects of a relationship with a man she trusted and admired. The daring notion had her straightening her shoulders even as her stomach dipped.

"That's a rather vague answer." She returned her attention to the papers as it wouldn't do to stare into his eyes when she already longed to kiss him.

A new sketch of a windmill blade caught her notice. She gasped as she realized she'd nearly forgotten about his meeting. "How was your visit with Uncle Arthur yesterday?"

"Intriguing." Pride lit Silas's eyes as a smile curved his lips. "He's an astute man. He had several questions about the design as well as production and requested a few additional drawings before he proposes it to the investor group he leads."

"That's wonderful news. He tends to be cautious with his selections, so you should be pleased he wants to proceed to the next step."

Silas kept his gaze on the drawing as if avoiding looking at her. "You don't think he is simply acting interested because you asked him on my behalf?"

Prue nearly laughed, certain he jested. When she saw he was serious, she shook her head. "Uncle Arthur and I are close, but he takes inventions seriously and would never risk investing in something he didn't believe in wholeheartedly."

"If you're sure..." Silas studied her as if he remained unconvinced.

Feeling rather bold, Prue placed a hand on his arm and squeezed. "I am. I told you it was a wonderful idea, as did your grandmother. I would have been shocked if my uncle disagreed."

In truth, it was touching to see the normally confident and outgoing Silas with such vulnerability in his eyes. Almost like he'd looked after they kissed last evening.

He slowly nodded. "Thank you again for the introduction."

"My pleasure."

He lifted a brow. "You've recovered from the encounter last evening?"

"I have." Kissing Silas had nearly wiped seeing Waltham from her memory. "I would rather not come upon the marquess again, but I shall be more prepared if I do."

"He is nothing but an ill-mannered lout who happens to have a title."

Prue smiled. "I shall keep that in mind."

"Someone should teach him a lesson."

Silas's words were a reminder of the plan to do exactly that to the rogues involved in the wager. She was half-tempted to mention it to him.

Though torn, her loyalty remained with the wallflowers. The rogues were the ones who had behaved poorly.

"Perhaps fate will step in and do so." But any reckoning wouldn't be given through her. The moment she'd locked eyes on Waltham, the small amount of confidence and poise she'd gained over the past three years disappeared in an instant.

"Prue." The seriousness of Silas's tone had her looking at him again. "Everything I said last night is true. You are a wonderful person."

Person. Not friend, or acquaintance. Person . Somehow, the word felt cold. Did he think he'd been overly forward of late and didn't want to give the wrong impression?

A woman of the world would understand. Prue lifted her chin and managed a smile. "You are too kind. I appreciate you helping me through a difficult situation."

She returned her attention to the table. "Now then, how are the decorations coming?"

Silas advised her of a problem with the lilies they'd wanted as part of the bouquets. They discussed other flower options that might work, though it was clear the idea of not including his grandmother's favorite flower didn't please him.

She had the impression he wanted to put them back on friendly footing despite the heated kisses they'd shared the previous evening, yet still, he frequently touched her. A hand on her arm, a touch on her lower back, a brush against her shoulder.

All those left her with a heady feeling that made concentrating on the party nearly impossible.

In accordance with her new persona of being a woman of the world, she returned those touches several times. The feeling was glorious.

Bold and confident—those were two words she wouldn't have thought to use to describe herself, and she had Silas to thank for them.

"I wonder if one of your grandmother's friends has a conservatory and would be willing to provide a few lilies. Then we'd at least have some since your grandmother is so fond of them."

"That's a fine idea." Silas's doubtful look gave her pause. "However, I can't say I know of anyone in particular, do you?"

"Aunt Edith mentioned someone. I'll find out who it is when I return home."

"Perfect. Shall we meet here again tomorrow and call on them together?"

Together . Her heart thumped harder than it should at the suggestion. "Certainly."

Another afternoon with Silas? Absolutely. The possibility of another kiss? Most definitely. The Season was already better than she'd expected despite coming upon Waltham or learning about the wager, all because of Silas.

"Another meeting with the viscount?" Prue's mother didn't seem convinced the idea was wise.

Prue, her mother, Millie, her mother, and two aunts had gathered with their needlework in the drawing room after luncheon. Sunshine spilled through the windows, giving the comfortable room a warm, golden glow.

Prue wasn't sure seeing him again was wise either, given the anticipation that had gripped her since yesterday. "We're calling on Lady Silverton to request lilies for Mrs. Sutton's party."

"Oh, yes, the two of you have met her." Millie's mother nodded with approval. "She has the most amazing conservatory and is dear friends with Mrs. Sutton. I'm certain she'll be pleased to lend assistance."

Prue's mother visibly relaxed. "How kind of her. Do give her our regards."

"Of course."

"Is Millie accompanying you?" her mother asked.

Prue nearly groaned on her cousin's behalf. Millie was several years older and often requested to serve as chaperone to her younger cousins. Prue knew that bothered her when she wasn't ready to be placed on the spinster shelf.

"I am visiting a friend this afternoon," Millie answered with a subtle wink at Prue.

That wink made Prue wonder if Millie had invented the excuse. Was Prue's excitement at meeting Silas so evident?

"I'm pleased you're helping Lord Winstead," Great Aunt Edith said from her chair near the window, her focus on sorting embroidery thread. "Dorothy has been looking forward to the party for months, and I'd hate for anything to ruin it." She looked up from her work. "Who knows what would happen if his mother was left to plan it? The lady is pleasant enough but can't remember what she had for dinner yesterday."

Prue's eyes widened in surprise.

"Now Aunt Edith, we shouldn't speak ill of anyone," Millie's mother quickly said with a frown. "She might be a bit of a flibbertigibbet, but she is very kind and always has something nice to say."

Prue departed with her maid in tow before Aunt Edith said anything further. She hadn't met Silas's mother, but Mrs. Sutton had mentioned her daughter's carefree air.

A kind heart was as important as keen intelligence, in Prue's opinion.

Silas greeted her at the door and offered his carriage to go to Lady Silverton's. Prue and her maid settled on the opposite bench from him and a short time later, they drew to a halt before the lady's Mayfair home with its tall columns, red brick exterior, and black shutters.

The butler took their cards, and they were shown into the elegant drawing room while Prue's maid remained by the door. They hadn't waited long before Lady Silverton greeted them.

"Good afternoon." The lady paused in the doorway with a bright smile. Her blue and white striped gown flattered her figure and gave her a youthful appearance. Her brown hair was touched with gray at the temples and loosely coifed. "What an unexpected delight. How lovely that the two of you have called."

"Thank you for seeing us," Silas said. "We have come seeking assistance."

He explained their need and the lady pressed her hands together as if thrilled they'd asked for help.

"I would be honored to provide some lilies," she said. "They're my favorites, too. I received the invitation and look forward to attending. How is your grandmother?"

"Quite well. Unfortunately, my mother has been under the weather, so Lady Prudence has been kind enough to assist me in finalizing the details."

"I haven't seen your mother or aunts for an age," Lady Silverton told Prue. "Do tell them to call when possible."

"Thank you. I will."

They visited for several minutes before the lady rang for the butler to show them to the conservatory. "Wander at your leisure. Just tell Holton what you need."

The butler showed them into the conservatory, advised them to ring when they were ready for his assistance, and departed.

Prue stepped into the warm, fragrant room, already in awe of the numerous plants and flowers thriving inside the bright space. Rather than rows of plants on shelves, as she'd expected, the conservatory looked more like a garden and a jungle had merged into a plethora of plants.

Glass panels allowed in sunlight and kept the room warm and humid. A water fountain in one corner provided a delightful trickling sound.

"My goodness." Silas studied the large space with as much awe as Prue. "Are we still in London?"

She laughed. "It feels as if we're on an exotic island somewhere, doesn't it?"

He offered her his arm. "Shall we?"

They wandered along the path that circled through the conservatory, quickly forgetting their purpose.

"Can you imagine having this to enjoy whenever the mood struck?" Prue whispered after pausing to admire an exotic orchid that emitted a spicy fragrance.

"No." Silas shook his head. "The expense to maintain it must be staggering."

The fact that he'd thought of expenses, when so few in the ton did, showed just how important funds were to him and his family. No wonder he intended to marry an heiress. The thought was sobering.

"Look at this one." He pointed to a bright pink bloom with long narrow petals.

She bent closer to draw in the fragrance. "Delightful. It smells of how I imagine the Far East might."

Silas chuckled and sniffed it as well. "I have no idea what the Far East smells like, but I'm certain you're right."

They continued forward, the warmth of Silas's hand at the low of her back just above her bustle a welcome distraction. Embracing his attention when she was with him was easy. There would be time enough in the coming months to worry about life without him when he found his heiress.

She frequently touched his arm to direct his attention, reveling in the closeness they shared even if it was temporary.

"Prue."

She turned to face him, surprised by the intensity in his expression. "Yes?"

"I have been thinking and feel I should apologize for the evening at the ball."

Please don't , she wanted to say. That meant he regretted their kisses. She didn't. "There's no need." Especially since she had kissed him first.

"I meant to offer comfort." He offered the crooked smile that never failed to weaken her knees. "Yet I seem to lose my focus when we're together."

She smoothed his lapel then rested her hand on his chest, wondering if she dared to wrap her arms around him the way she had the other night. "You did comfort me. You helped me to see there is more to me than others think. You showed me that I am desirable." Her stomach dipped at her words, hardly able to believe she'd admitted such a thing. "Thank you for that."

"You are very desirable." He brushed a strand of hair from her cheek, his touch causing a shiver along her skin.

"So are you." Prue followed her instinct and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, offering her mouth, desperate for him to take it.

Her heart soared as he reached for her waist and drew her against his length, the contact making her ache with desire.

He deepened the kiss, and her breasts tightened as passion took hold. She loved the way he made her feel—as if she were beautiful and the only one for him.

At this moment, the future didn't matter. She wouldn't think about the past either. Only Silas and the present.

She ran her gloved hand over his neck then along the strong line of his jaw, wishing she knew how to make him feel the same way she did.

The warmth of his body seeped into hers, and she shifted against him, longing for more. When his hand cupped her breast, she gasped, breaking their kiss to focus on his touch.

"Prue, you are delectable," he murmured as he pressed kisses along her neck. "I want to taste every inch of you."

Liquid heat filled her at his words. "Yes." She wanted that too.

His head lowered to her modest neckline, the sight of his dark head against her flesh erotic. The feel of his fingers sliding inside that neckline had her leaning her head back as pleasure took an even firmer hold.

This.

This was why ladies were ruined. This aching need that was impossible to resist.

His cool fingers cupped her breast then his thumb flicked the nipple just enough to shoot a spear of lust to her very center.

"Perfect." He kissed her again as his fingers worked their magic.

Unable to resist, she unbuttoned his jacket and ran a hand over his shirt, appreciating the muscled form beneath.

"Prue, I must touch you. Now."

She frowned, uncertain of his meaning when he was already touching her. She only knew she needed more of whatever he was willing to give. "Yes. Please."

Her gown shifted against her leg, but she thought nothing of it until she felt his touch on her thigh. Her bare thigh just above her stocking. It trailed slowly upward, and heat pooled between her legs.

He gently squeezed the flare of her hip. Then she felt the brush of his hand against her drawers. Did he intend to touch her there? The thought was positively scandalous as well as intriguing. Her legs trembled and her heart pounded, anticipation curling through her.

He kissed her senseless, and she lost track of his hand for a moment or two until she felt the brush of his fingers against the juncture of her thighs. With slow, methodical movements, he found her slick folds and caressed her.

The sensation was nearly more than she could bear. How could his touch feel so amazing and bring so much pleasure? Thank goodness he held her with his other hand to help keep her upright. She was damp where he touched her, but there was no time for embarrassment to take hold. Not when his rhythmic caress was bringing layer after layer of pleasure.

She broke the kiss again, uncertain what was happening, only knowing she needed more. She felt as if she were reaching for something she couldn't see. "Silas?"

"Yes, Prudence. I have you." He nuzzled her neck before moving to the sensitive skin beneath her ear.

It was all too much. She couldn't think. Could barely breathe. Her senses swirled into a vortex, then suddenly she was flying as if she'd jumped from a cliff, hanging in the air with only Silas's touch keeping her tethered to earth.

Her body shuddered as pleasure shot through her.

"That's it. Yes, Prue," he muttered as he held her even tighter.

She clung to him, hardly able to believe what was happening and too embarrassed to open her eyes.

He leaned his forehead against hers, the sweetness of the gesture wrapping around her heart. "Thank you," he whispered.

Her eyes opened at that. "I—I didn't really do anything."

He drew back to look into her eyes. "You gave me the gift of you. That is priceless."

If he was any sweeter, she might cry. He made her feel special, and that was something she rarely experienced. That was the true gift.

If only...

But no. She couldn't allow her thoughts to venture there when it was impossible. She wasn't the heiress he needed.

How unfortunate that he was the rogue she wanted.