Page 3 of A Dance with His Angel

“Go sit and talk to her, man,” Isaiah says above the music, bumping my shoulder, as James and Shayla slowly shuffle, their limbs wrapped tight around each other.

Ah, so I wasn’t all that subtle.

“I can’t,” I say, adjusting my pink bow tie patterned with polyhedral dice yet again. I’m not used to wearing such tight, stuffy clothes, preferring a loose tunic and soft trousers, though I rarely wear them out in public, considering the strange looks I get.

When a server passes with a tray of drinks, Isaiah takes a tumbler and a healthy sip of the amber liquid. “Why not?”

“She’s too young,” I tell him, putting up a hand to let the server know I’m passing on the alcohol. The last thing I need is to let alcohol lower my inhibitions and do something cosmically embarrassing like dropping to my knees, right here in front of everyone, to worship at the feet of Lady Eden.

“She’s eighteen. Could be worse,” Isaiah grumbles, turning his back on Bailey, who’s staring dreamily from across the dance floor, thankfully held back by her mother and Autumn. “I’d jump at the chance to talk to her if I wasn’t certain Bailey would concoct some scheme to poison her food.” He shudders.

I look up at him sharply, as he towers above me, and then to Bailey, reminded of the mental daggers she’d thrown at Eden throughout dinner last night. It’s not me she’s after, thank all that is holy, but I certainly have my reservations. I move briskly around the dance floor to hover at Eden’s table, a knight standing guard between his lady and any foes who may face her.

“Would you like to dance?” I blurt at Eden, interrupting her conversation with her mother mid-sentence. My face burns when the two women turn as one to gape at me. I hadn’t meant to ask. Nor had I meant to bow so deeply, as I find myself doingnow. Turns out, I don’t need a drop of alcohol to lose all my senses. My head swims as I jackknife up, looking around the room wildly for an exit.

Eden passes Ivy to her mother and stands with a shy smile. “I would love to.”

“Really?” I tug at my bow tie with surprise and cough to clear my throat. “I meant, really?” I ask just as sharply.Good god, man, get a hold of yourself.I take a long, deep breath through my nose and squeeze my eyes shut—I’ve humiliated myself so deeply. My voice only cracks once when I say, “I meant, thank you, my lady. It would be my honor.”

“Mine too…” Her voice drops low as she turns away from her mother and says, “My lord.”

Eden takes my hand with a little giggle when I present it to her, and my shoulders, which had been hiked up to my ears, slowly loosen as I lead her toward the middle of the dance floor. The world around me slowly fades, and I’m scarcely aware of the other couples as I stare into the eyes of my angel, the material of her pink bridesmaid’s gown so soft beneath my hand on her pleasantly rounded waist.

Chapter Three

Eden

In my kitten heels, I stand at eye level with the endearingly timid knight who has my heart beating faster, especially when his warm hand tightens on my waist, pulling me closer. “So, how long have you known James?” I ask.

“You’re so beautiful,” he blurts at the same time, and his hazel eyes flash with alarm—a habit I find refreshing and adorable. “Forgive me. I didn’t mean to talk over you.”

I slip my right hand higher over his shoulder, brushing the ends of his soft curls. “I think you’re quite handsome, too, my lord.” I’m not usually quite so forward, but his keen attentiveness gives me a boost of confidence that I’ve been sorely lacking, especially with how much my body has changed since carrying Ivy and giving birth.

“Really?” he asks once more with shock, as he did when I accepted his hand to dance. He tips his chin down, a blush staining his cheeks.

“Is that so hard to believe?”

“Yes,” he says quickly. He releases my waist to spin me, a much better dancer than I expected, then brings me in closer than before, his hand now resting on my lower back.

“Why is that?”

I don’t get a chance to hear his answer, since Mom taps me on the shoulder. Ivy has her fist in her mouth, her chin beginning to quiver with hunger, so I take her in my arms. I curtsy toward Martin. “Thank you for the dance.” I would add “Lord Martin” if Mom wasn’t in the vicinity.

Martin bows low, looking star-struck when he rises. I find I quite like the way he stares at me, as if no other woman exists, and I bite my bottom lip as I rub Ivy’s back, making my way to the bridal suite for some privacy to nurse her. Upon our exit twenty minutes later, I bump into Martin in the hallway, where it looks like he’s been waiting, holding a bottle of water sweating with condensation and a small plate of sliced fruit, crackers, and cheese.

“Refreshments, my—” Martin lets loose a gasping breath.

I follow the trail of his eyes down. “Oh! Oh my—” I want to melt through the floor when I realize that after I finished nursing Ivy, I hadn’t properly clasped the right side of my dress, which was altered so that I can easily pull the fabric down like a nursing bra. “I’m so sorry you had to see that,” I say, letting my eyes drop somewhere south on the floor once I’m covered and have turned back to face Martin.

Martin delicately tips my chin up with two fingers, having transferred my water bottle to his suit pocket. “A gift I shall treasure for all my days, Lady Eden.” His fingers linger on my skin as my breath comes faster, and then he takes a large step backward and sweeps his hand toward the end of the hallway, in step with me on our journey back to the reception.

Mom’s eyes flit back and forth between us when Martin pulls out my chair for me and sets my plate and water on the table.When he continues standing, clutching his hands together in front like a sentry, Mom asks, “Will you be joining us?”

“If it pleases my lady,” Martin says.

“My oh my,” Mom says under her breath. “That’s something you don’t hear every day.”

“It would,” I say, motioning to the empty chair beside me. “Please, join us.”