She stilled at his words, eyes holding on him. “What do you intend?”
“My family’s finances are only worsening the longer I delay marrying an heiress. I need to put all my attention toward that goal.”
“I see.” Her gaze fell, and it was all he could do not to place a finger beneath her chin so she would look at him again. “Are you certain there is no hope for your design?”
“Not without building a prototype. That requires more time and money than I have.”
“But if you won the wager...” She looked at him again, her steadfast gaze striking him in the heart.
To think she would be willing to set aside her determination to teach Maynard and the others a lesson to help him win touched him deeply. She would have been the perfect partner—someone who believed in him more than he believed in himself. A woman whose love and passion equaled his own.
Better that he end their relationship now before he did something foolish. Asking her to be his mistress would be a mistake. She deserved more than that, and he refused to be so selfish. She should have a family of her own to love.
“I wouldn’t ask you or the other ladies to compromise your values for me. That wouldn’t be fair.” He wouldn’t lower himself in such a manner. “Thank you for helping me with Grandmother’s birthday party. I have no doubt it will be a huge success.”
“Don’t we still need to finalize the refreshments?”
“No need to trouble yourself.” It would be impossible to be with Prue and not touch her or kiss her again. “Mother is recovering and will lend a hand.” That was partly true. She was feeling better though her energy had yet to return.
“I see.” Prue swallowed visibly, and his heart ached with the worry that he’d hurt her. Yet what else could he do? She looked at the papers on the table. “I still wish you wouldn’t set aside your idea.”
“It’s for the best.” He lifted several of the sketches and measurements, thinking of the effort and hope he’d put into his plans. “No need for these any longer.”
He strode to the fire and tossed several papers into the flames.
“Please, Silas. Don’t do that,” Prue pleaded. “The opportunity might arise—”
“No. No more.” He tossed in several more, watching his sketches curl as they burned. “Time to face reality, even if it is unpleasant.”
Unpleasant? That was far too dull of a word for his current emotions. He tossed the remaining papers onto a nearby stool, suddenly unable to so much as look at the plans even to watch them burn.
He turned his back on the ashes in the hearth. Saying goodbye to his design was hard enough, but saying goodbye to Prue was much worse. Still, he forced himself to look at her again. “I wish you well, Prudence. I am a better person for having had the chance to know you.”
They both turned at a rustling sound to see Bertie stroll into the room. “Meow.”
Silas couldn’t help but feel the cat was admonishing him for telling Prue goodbye. Still, he welcomed the distraction the cat provided and reached down to scratch him behind his ears, unable to bring himself to watch Prue.
A few moments later, she joined him, clutching her reticule as if her life depended on it, to stroke the cat who leaned into her touch. Silas scowled at the realization that he was envious of the feline.
Prue heaved a sigh as they both stood. “I do wish you’d reconsider, Silas.” She lifted her gaze to meet his, the emotion in them nearly his undoing. “You are an amazing man with a tremendous idea that should be brought to fruition. It would benefit others and that matters.”
She stepped closer and lifted onto her toes to kiss his cheek. “You matter. You are an intelligent and clever man. I hope that one day, you will be able to see that. I wish you well, Silas.”
Tears glinted in her eyes and caused his own throat to tighten. Then she walked out the door, taking a piece of his heart with her.
Prue made it to the carriage before tears overcame her. She hadn’t realized Silas, too, had hoped they might have a future together. That made his goodbye all the more heartbreaking.
She understood why he’d ended their association. Continuing to see one another would only make their eventual goodbye—because there could be no doubt it would come—even more painful.
And she knew that was something she couldn’t endure.
“Lady Prudence,” her maid whispered, “is there anything I can do?”
Prue shook her head and opened her reticule to retrieve a handkerchief. The sight of Silas’s plans that she’d folded and tucked inside it without him knowing made her tears flow even harder. Yet she couldn’t stand to watch him burn them knowing how much time and effort he’d put into them.
If only her uncle had agreed to invest in his design.
There had to be something else at play given how impressed and excited Uncle Arthur had been by the sketches Silas had provided. She knew he wasn’t the only one in the investment group. Perhaps someone else had decided against the idea.