“It’s not every day that one is presented with such a delicious temptation,” he countered with a smile. “It seems wrong not to enjoy them, don’t you think?”
With a smile, she nodded. “I suppose you’re right.” She took a bite and closed her eyes, clearly savoring the cake.
Her expression tightened something deep inside him. What other activities did she do with such abandon? Realizing the inappropriate path of his thoughts, he jerked his gaze away only to find his grandmother watching him, her expression unreadable.
Then a small smile curled her lips before she directed her attention to her friend.
A sense of unease took hold. Ridiculous, he reassured himself. His grandmother knew he needed to marry an heiress to save the family. The thought was a sobering reminder of what lay ahead.
Of course, he could hope to win the foolish wager he’d been caught in. A drunken night at a gambling hell with friends had embroiled him in an outlandish scheme: dance with twelve wallflowers at twelve different balls over the next three weeks.
He never should’ve agreed, but Viscount Maynard had offered a sum of money to the winner that had made his mouth go dry. Five hundred pounds was enough to have a prototype made of his windmill blades to test them.
What if...
The wild hope had him shifting in his chair, suddenly unable to sit still.
Lady Prudence sent him a questioning look, a subtle one that he could easily ignore. Her sensitivity to those around her was surprising compared to the self-involved ladies of the ton who couldn’t pass a mirror without looking at their reflection.
He offered a sheepish smile, one that suggested she should ignore him.
Reserve slid over her expression, and he had the feeling he’d disappointed her. Ridiculous when they didn’t know one another. He was obviously imagining their silent communication.
Yet the feeling persevered as she withdrew from the conversation and was careful not to glance his way again.
Silas didn’t care for it. He was used to being well-liked and effortlessly putting others at ease. For some reason, he couldn’t resist the challenge of drawing her out again. He put his mind to the task and watched for an opening, telling himself he would depart as soon as he coaxed another smile from her tempting pink lips.
“Lady Prudence,” he began when there was a brief lull in the conversation, “how are you finding London thus far?”
Her gaze held on him as if pondering the reason for his question. She smiled politely. “Well, thank you. The museums are always a delight.”
Surely she hoped to find a husband. Perhaps become betrothed by the end of the Season. “I assume there is a ball or two in your future?” he asked.
To his surprise, she almost looked resigned rather than excited by the idea. “I believe so.”
She didn’t take the opening he’d offered. Another lady would say she hoped to see him at one, flutter her lashes, and wait for him to request a dance.
Lady Prudence said nothing. She needed to improve her flirting skills if she wanted to keep her own among the more aggressive ladies of the ton.
“I do hope you will consider saving a dance for me.”
Out of the corner of his eye, he noted his grandmother’s nod of approval. Silas kept his attention on Lady Prudence as if he wanted nothing more than for her agreement. He offered an encouraging grin.
Another blush rose in her cheeks, and her lips curved into a smile. “How kind of you. I would like that.”
Pleasure washed through him. Why her agreement pleased him so much when he’d left her little choice he didn’t know.
But much like his grandmother’s example, he intended to enjoy the small moments of the Season before the noose of a monetarily advantageous match was secured around his neck. Gaining a smile from his secret rescuer counted as one.
“Silas, perhaps Lady Prudence might be of assistance with the birthday celebration.” His grandmother’s ecstatic look suggested she thought it an excellent idea.
He glanced at the lady with dismay. What was his grandmother thinking? Friendliness was one thing, but requesting her assistance, which would mean seeing her frequently over the next few weeks, was another entirely. “I couldn’t impose.”
“Prudence is extremely organized,” her aunt added. “She has assisted with planning several events for relatives, including her sister.”
Silas looked at Lady Prudence, wondering about her feelings on the subject, to find her eyes wide with alarm. “I’m sure she has many talents...” Ones he would like to explore despite knowing it was a fruitless pursuit. “But I couldn’t intrude on her time in London.”
“Prudence, you don’t mind, do you?” Miss Flowers’ tone suggested only an agreement would do.