“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 naïve young lady faced with a careless rogue.