She bristled at his interruption, her expression tightening into one of annoyance for a split second until she managed to reign in her emotions. Ezra was an eligible bachelor — an eldest son, a respectable worker, charming when not causing her such intense pain — he was allowed to court whomever he pleased. Whether or not Priscilla would be open to such an invitation was debatable, but that wasn't Rosie's decision to make.

She discreetly peeked at Priscilla's dance card and saw it to be largely empty (poor girl) which meant an apologetic refusal wouldn't make much sense. Rosie hid her grown behind a small sip of champagne. Ezra was going to dance with Priscilla then. There was nothing she could do to stop it.

Rosie looked at him then, her gaze sharp. "I believe she has the last dance of the evening open — the waltz -" their dance, she realized she loved him while waltzing with him "- you may place your name down for it and then allow the girl to respond to her mother's summon." She tried not to empathize girl but knew her irritability at him dancing with a child bled through somewhat.

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