“You are resourceful.” He should’ve thought to ask for a list when they’d last spoken, but disappointment had prevented him from thinking clearly.
“Perhaps more than I should be.” Her brow puckered, and worry darkened her eyes. “I have a confession.”
He couldn’t imagine what it was. “What might that be?”
“I kept several of your plans and sketches.” She bit her lower lip as if guilt plagued her. “The day you were burning them. I couldn’t bear it and saved some.”
Silas chuckled. “I thought I had burned more than I realized. How clever you are.”
She blew out a relieved breath as they reached the edge of the dance floor where the previous dancers were finishing. “I hope my actions didn’t worry you.”
“You were determined to save me from myself.”
“Winstead.”
Silas turned to see Maynard and the Marquess of Waltham approach. “Good evening, gentlemen.” Why had he ever thought of them as friends?
“Step aside, Winstead. The lady promised this dance to me.” Maynard looked at Prue with a gleam in his eyes that Silas didn’t care for. “Lady Prudence? Shall we?”
“Or perhaps the lady would prefer a dance with me.” Waltham offered his hand as if daring Prue to refuse.
Prue’s hand trembled beneath Silas’s arm. He glanced at her, remembering too well her reaction to the lord the last time. Her expression tightened, her unease palpable.
Several other couples leaving the dance floor paused to see what was happening and soon a circle of people gathered around them.
Silas tightened his hold on Prue, prepared to whisk her away from the two rogues—anything to protect her.
To his surprise, she pulled her hand free and straightened her shoulders. She glanced between the two men and lifted her chin. “I will not be dancing with either of you.”
“I must insist,” Maynard said, edging closer. “A substantial amount of money is at stake.”
“Money that you will lose.” Prue glared at him, showing no sign of fear. “Perhaps you should admit that making such a wager was a mistake and you misjudged the ladies involved.”
“At the behest of a wallflower?” Waltham scoffed. “Never.”
“The two of you clearly have no idea what these ladies are capable of,” Silas said. “They deserve better than the likes of you.”
“Yes, we do.” Prue’s cousin appeared at her side, and she brought reinforcements. Several other ladies wound through the crowd to join Prue and Silas.
“Wallflowers are not to be trifled with,” Lady Catherine declared. He’d danced with her and admired her humor.
“You should be so lucky as to have the chance to dance with one of us,” Miss Davies added.
“And if you are, you will remember it,” Lady Florence, who had a fondness for lilies like his grandmother, said.
Silas grinned as several older couples who gathered to watch applauded the group supporting Prue.
“The only rogue winning the wager is this one.” Prue reached for Silas’s arm. “Viscount Maynard, prepare to make good on your bet.”
“I am not going to lose.” The viscount’s outrage was clear as his gaze darted around the group. “Who among you have I not danced with?”
The ladies all shook their heads. “If you can’t remember, we can’t tell you.”
A few of the more popular debutantes and their dance partners who were watching shook their heads in disapproval at the two lords’ behavior.
“Excuse us, but I believe the music is starting.” Prue guided Silas onto the dance floor, her confidence unwavering.
“Good that you pulled me away when you did,” Silas muttered. “I thought I was going to have to hit him.”