Miss Davies beamed. “I would be delighted.”
Maynard gave Silas a smug smile before offering his arm to Miss Davies.
“Surely the viscount won’t ask me to dance, will he?” Prue asked in a quiet voice, her face pale.
“I couldn’t say.” Silas attempted to mask his annoyance at the situation that had nothing to do with her but might hurt her in the end.
If Maynard did, it wouldn’t count toward the wager since he was already dancing with Miss Davies, but from what Randolph had told him, Maynard was dancing with several wallflowers at each ball with the hope they would agree to a later dance when it suited him.
In Silas’s eyes, that would only further raise the hope of the unfortunate ladies.
He glanced at Prue, dismayed to find her expression pinched. “Is all well?”
“Yes, thank you.” When he continued to look at her, certain she wasn’t telling the truth, she added, “I confess that I do not care for men like him.”
“How do you mean?” he asked. She couldn’t know the viscount well when they’d just been introduced.
“In all honesty, he looks like a rogue.”
Silas raised a brow. “Do rogues have a particular look?” While he knew Maynard to be one, he was curious what a sheltered lady such as Prue saw, especially since he, himself, had been called one numerous times.
Prue blushed, those long lashes fluttering down to hide her eyes. “Jaded and empty.” She sounded almost breathless. “As if nothing in the world is amusing anymore.” Those lashes swept up and her eyes met his. The emotion in them pulled at him, tightening the connection he felt with her.
“That sounds quite accurate,” he admitted.
“I think it’s tragic.”
“How so?” He had never thought of Maynard as such.
“The world is not here for our amusement. People shouldn’t be used on a whim. If men like him put their wealth and power to good use instead of merely for entertainment...” Her brow furrowed as she considered her words. “Think of how much better our lives would be.”
He slowly nodded as he pondered her words. “True.”
“The viscount and those like him would be happier for having a meaningful purpose other than their own enjoyment.” Her gaze held on him. “Like you do.”
Her words struck him directly in the chest. Did that mean she didn’t see him as someone like Maynard? “I’m not certain I can claim that.” After all, it wasn’t as if he’d truly pursued his passion.
“It seems to me that you could if you wished to.” The challenge in her blue eyes had him straightening his spine despite his doubt.
Yet he couldn’t deny that he agreed with her. The need for purpose had him continually pulling out his drawings and plans to revise and improve them even if he feared nothing would come of them. To think Prue might understand and support such an endeavor only made him like her more.
The urge to tell her how much he admired her took hold. To talk to her and hear her opinion on a variety of subjects since they seemed to be of the same mind. To share his dreams and fears and ask her to do the same. To somehow show her just how special and desirable she was. He longed to wrap her in his arms and hold her. To press kisses along her neck and take her lips with his.
“Prue,” he began, wondering if he dared to share some of what was in his heart.
“I’m so pleased you’re not a rogue of that sort,” she whispered as her blush deepened.
Guilt swept through him. How he wished that were true.
“You will simply not believe this.” The outrage on Millie’s face caught Prue’s attention, where she stood not far from her mother behind a potted palm, hoping none of the rogues decided to ask her to dance.
The fact that Silas still hadn’t asked her to dance bothered her, but she wouldn’t admit it. She had no idea what he’d meant by the extenuating circumstances that had kept him from doing so at the last ball. Apparently, they were still an issue since he’d left her side without asking her to dance.
Well over a quarter of an hour had passed since Millie’s dance with Viscount Maynard, and Prue had been wondering what had become of her.
Millie took her arm to draw her away from their mothers and various aunts who visited together.
“What has happened?” Prue asked with concern. Had Viscount Maynard done something untoward? Prue didn’t want her cousin to suffer a fate similar to what had happened to Prue.