Robert raised an eyebrow. “Shall we, then?”
She blinked at him in alarm, already shaking her head. “No, no, I wouldn’t know the steps. I’d ruin the whole dance!”
“Nonsense,” he said, his grin slow and devilish.
Before she could protest again, he had grabbed her hand and tugged her to her feet.
“Robert!” she laughed, half-scolding, but she followed him all the same, her cheeks already flushed.
They were swept into the swirl of the crowd, laughter and clapping all around them. He gave her a quick nod, eyes gleaming, and mimicked the steps just once.
“Follow my lead.”
And she did.
At first, she stumbled, once, then twice, but his steady hands guided her, his low chuckle never unkind, always encouraging. Soon, she found the rhythm, and the joy that bubbled up in her chest was impossible to suppress.
They moved in time with the music, spinning, turning, clapping. Her laughter joined the others’. And somehow, without realizing it, their hands found each other again between steps. His fingers brushed the small of her back during a turn. Her arm grazed his shoulder as they spun around. It wasn’t a waltz. It wasn’t refined. It wasreal. And it brought them closer than any formal ball ever could have.
By the time the tune ended, they were breathless and laughing, flushed from exertion and something far more dangerous. She glanced up at him, still breathing heavily.
“You did wonderfully,” he complimented.
She smiled, glowing. “So did you,Your Grace.”
He raised a brow. “Robert.”
“Robert,” she whispered, and for a moment, the noisy tavern disappeared.
Just him. Just her. And the space between them growing smaller with every breath.
They danced for what felt like hours as one merry reel followed another, and the tavern seemed to come alive with stomping boots, laughter, and the warmth of strangers. Evelyn’s cheeks hurt from smiling, her ribs ached from laughing, and her legs were sore in a way that reminded her she had lived today. Really lived.
By the time they stepped out of the tavern, the village lay in hushed darkness. The air was cool and damp, and the earlier rain had left the cobblestone streets glistening under the faint moonlight. A distant owl hooted somewhere above, and a dog barked lazily in the distance.
Evelyn wrapped her arms around herself with a soft shiver. Before she could take another step, Robert was at her side again, offering his arm. She took it gratefully, nestling close to him, and they began walking back toward the inn.
“Are you afraid of the dark?” he asked gently, his voice low beside her ear.
She smiled into the night with her eyes fixed ahead. “There are more dangerous things to be afraid of.”
His arm tightened around her shoulders in silent agreement. “You’re right,” he murmured, his voice quieter now and warmer.
And just like that, she allowed herself the comfort of his nearness, the soft scent of him, the quiet strength. She reminded herself that this was a special night. An exception. A moment suspended outside of reality. She was allowed to enjoy it because there would be no repercussions. They had an arrangement. A clear understanding.
This was just the sort of memory she’d hold onto when everything returned to normal.
They climbed the narrow stairs of the little inn, creaking wood echoing under their feet. Her fingers brushed the banister, her thoughts swirling as they reached their door. She paused just a moment before stepping inside, and when he opened it for her, she crossed the threshold slowly then stopped.
The room was exactly as they had left it. Simple. Warm. The fire in the hearth had died down, leaving just embers and a dim golden glow. And just one bed.
Of course.
The realization hit her more strongly now with the door closed behind them. Her fingers hesitated at the ties of her borrowed dress. She turned slightly, unsure how to proceed.
Robert didn’t miss a beat. “If you like,” he said, voice laced with amusement, “I could turn my back again, and we can go through our little routine. Or I could step outside, sleep in the stables with the horses. I’ll even wrestle a goat for a blanket.”
She gave him a look over her shoulder, laughing despite herself. “No need to be dramatic. I’m sure the goat would win.”
