Rosie hadn't spoken a word to Priscilla between removing her from Ezra's thrall and depositing her with her mother. She didn't know what to say, for she could hardly be the one to warn a debutante off of dancing with him. To do so would allude to her still having feelings for him (she did, she would always) or, worse, being jealous of a girl so green she ought to still be in diapers (she was, hideously so). No, Rosie had to allow the gossiping whispers to continue behind her back for Priscilla to understand why she had acted that way.

She held true to her plan though of leaving immediately after. She'd shown her support enough for it to be noted and thanked. There was no reason to stay a minute longer - not when Ezra was looking like that and obviously eager to move on.

Only, Ezra was apparently determined to ruin her evening all the more. It was typical of him, he'd only ruined her entire future.

Rosie's gloved hands clenched into fists at her sides as she turned to face him. "What could I possibly have to say to you?" She demanded.

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