In comparison, every moment he spent with Prue was a blessing. He enjoyed her company. She was quick-witted, pretty, thoughtful, and even-tempered. Her assistance was making the planning of his grandmother’s birthday party a delight rather than a chore. But it was so much more than that.
When he was with her, all his worries about the future fell away. He wanted to hear her opinions on everything, regardless of the topic, and coax a smile from her. Bringing the light of joy to her face made him feel like he could conquer mountains.
Yet he couldn’t allow any of that to change his path. An heiress was the only way to save his family. Even if Prue’s uncle decided to invest in his windmill design, it could be years before it turned a profit, if ever. The risk of relying on that—on his intellect and creativity—was too great.
While he intended to continue to pursue it, the endeavor would be a matter of passion rather than practicality.
Much like Prue.
He gave himself a mental shake. He wasn’t pursuing her.
Liar.
The sight of her across the ballroom gave his heart a little lurch. If he were wise, he’d keep his distance, but his feet didn’t listen and walked directly toward her.
Better that he speak with her now and release the urge. Afterwards, he would focus on another heiress.
He wound through the crowd, taking his time so as not to appear in a rush in case anyone watched. He didn’t want it to be obvious that he was seeking her out.
As he drew closer, he frowned, trying to puzzle out the sight before him. Prue, Miss Davies, and several other ladies were standing around Lord Ulstead as if they’d surrounded him on purpose. The bewildered look on the man’s face suggested he didn’t know what to make of it either.
The ladies, most of whom might be described as wallflowers, looked quite displeased with Ulstead. One had her hands on her hips. Another glared at him with a heated look in her eyes.
Silas was hesitant to interrupt what appeared to be a confrontation of sorts, yet curiosity had him continuing forward until he stood just behind Prue.
“Good evening.”
Prue stiffened at his greeting and spun to face him. “Silas.”
Heat colored her cheeks, but whether it was from the memory of their encounter the previous day or whatever was happening with Ulstead, he didn’t know.
“How is...everyone?” Silas asked with a raised brow as he looked around the group.
Some of the ladies reverted to their shy tendencies, dropping their gazes to the ground or clasping their hands before them as if in self-defense.
Sympathy welled inside him. How difficult it must be to feel such a lack of confidence, as if one wrong misstep might ruin their hope for a future.
As for Ulstead, his relief at Silas’s arrival was clear. “Winstead. You’re just in time.”
“For what?” He had no wish to rescue the lord. Ulstead deserved whatever the ladies intended to deal him.
“Explain to the wall—” The lord bit off the term, his face turning red as more glares were turned his way. “To the ladies that we meant no harm.”
“To what are you referring?” Silas enjoyed watching him squirm almost as much as he enjoyed the smiles lighting the faces of several of the ladies in the group when he didn’t immediately aid the lord.
“The wager, of course.” Ulstead’s glare might’ve withered a lesser man. “Don’t deny you are in on it.”
Indecision gripped Silas. As much as he wanted to do just that, he wouldn’t lie. Besides, Prue already knew the truth. And he wouldn’t deny how welcome the money would be if he won. Yet it seemed the game was up since the ladies knew about the wager.
He glanced at Prue, wondering at her thoughts, but her expression revealed little as she waited for his reply. Once again, she kept secret his involvement, much like she had when he’d fallen from the tree.
“I wouldn’t lie to the ladies.” He gave a small bow to the group to show his respect. “Nor do I wish to cause offense.”
But blast it, he didn’t want Maynard to win, and since he was the one whose money was at risk and was already in the lead, that was the likely outcome. The arrogant lord would only continue to think himself superior if he won. If only there was a way to teach him a lesson and take his money.
Silas offered his customary grin as he met each of the ladies’ gazes, ending with Prue. “It appears the wager is off. That is unless the ladies decide to choose a rogue to champion.” He looked around the group again. “Why don’t we place the wager in their hands to decide who, if any of us, should win?” The more he thought about the idea, the more he liked it as it gave the ladies the power to decide their fate, something they deserved after enduring the rogues’ poor behavior.
Gasps met his suggestion as the ladies looked at one another, whispering as smiles took hold.