Page 42 of Waking Roslyn

She had to stop doing this.

Not that I wanted her to stop. No, in fact, I was completely mesmerized, but that was the problem, wasn’t it? Miss Rose was dancing among the trees again. Humming again. Except this time, she kept pausing and then restarting. As I watched, I thought perhaps she was trying to remember a certain sequence of dance steps but was having difficulty.

I wanted to stick around so that I could see the moment when she finally remembered the last few steps, but just like before, it was not polite for me to be standing here staring. I needed to be on my way, but before I could convince my feet that they needed to turn and leave, Miss Rose’s gaze fell on me and she stopped mid-twirl.

I froze, as though that would somehow make me invisible, and stared like a fool. If I’d been more in control of my faculties, I might have just given a smile and a nod and been on my way, acting as if I’d just been passing by. But no, instead I stood stock-still and just kept staring.

Wonderful impression, that.

Rose, the dancing maiden, blinked in surprise as she returned my gaze, and for several uncomfortable seconds, there was nothing but silence between us.

“Well, don’t just stand there,” she finally said, a very slight smile curving her mouth.

“I beg your pardon?” I asked, my voice rough. She seemed much more able to recover from our odd meeting than I was.

“It’s been a long time since I had a partner to dance with. Would you mind?” Her question was asked with all propriety, and she held her hands demurely in front of her as if she were gracing a grand ballroom with heavy drapes and beautiful finery, instead of standing in the forest with two simple braids in her hair.

“Oh,” I said, reclaiming my faculties and doing my best to imitate her easy manner. “Certainly.” I walked forward several steps until I stood directly in front of her, then (ignoring my hot neck and dry throat) I reached for her.

She took a step back. “No, no. You must ask me properly first.”

I raised my brow. “You realize that in my world, asking at all IS asking properly?”

She suppressed a smile. “Humor me.”

I fought my own smile, but one corner of my mouth tipped up. “You’ll have to tell me how.” I was acting more ignorant than I truly was. I’d spent enough time around Princess Marilee and Sir James to know exactly how a gentleman asked a lady to dance, but something about Rose’s bossiness made me wish for more of it.

“It’s not difficult. You bow while holding out a hand and say, “Might I have this dance?”

I did as she instructed, wondering at what point she would realize I was not an equal dance partner and scurry away. “Might I have this dance, fair maiden?” I asked with all the haughtiness I could muster.

She dipped into an elegant curtsey. “Thank you, good sir.” Her fingers were long and delicate as she placed her hand in mine, ignoring the dirt that was almost always there and smiling as she stepped into my arms. I’d noticed during our training that she was taller than average, which suited me just fine since I tended to tower over everyone.

“I don’t know fancy dances,” I confessed as she stood in the circle of my arms, bright and lovely-smelling and eager to dance—with me. Stars above, what had possessed her to ask me to dance? Teaching her to fight was one thing, but this felt…intimate.

I was shocked when my confession caused her eyes to brighten even more. “Oh good. Will you teach me one of your dances?”

My fingers flexed where they rested on her waist, excited by the idea. “Of course, my lady. Though you’ll have to loosen up a bit.” I took hold of her hands and gave them a shake, making her arms wiggle back and forth. “Our dances are not nearly so stiff as yours.”

She laughed and allowed me to pull her into a rather familiar dance position. “The beat will be one, two, three, four, one, two, three, four,” I said, setting a quick pace.

She nodded.

“We’ll both take four steps in that direction”—I pointed our clasped hands to my left—“and then four steps in the opposite direction, like this.” I pulled her along, reciting my one, two, three, fours as I stepped quick and light in one direction and then the other. Once she’d gotten the rhythm down, I started to vary our direction. So instead of going back and forth along the same line, we ended up making a star as we covered a much broader area.

I pushed her into a quick spin and she laughed. “You’re right. This is much less stiff than I’m used to.”

I grinned silently, gratified that I could make her laugh with such carefree abandon.

“Now two spins to conclude.”

She happily complied, her skirts flaring around her. When we came to a stop, I stepped back, holding only one of her hands as I bowed. She curtsied in return, and when we both straightened, I cleared my throat, determined to do something other than just stare. “So tell me, what brings you out dancing in the trees?”

“Oh,” she said as she turned her face into the breeze and pushed a loose lock of hair behind her ear. “Do I need a specific reason?”

“I suppose not,” I acknowledged.

She looked back at me. “And what are you doing? Have I pulled you from your work?” A little frown creased her brow.