Chapter 3
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.”
Martin gives a slight bow before unbuttoning his suit jacket and settling into his seat. He’s as quiet as he was during dinner last night, but there’s a different quality to his silence now. Still nervous, but less so, his presence…calming, even.
“He’s sweet on you,” Mom says when Martin hops up to fill both of our plates when the dinner buffet line opens. “You’re sweet on him too.”
I blush and kiss Ivy’s forehead, gently rocking her as she falls asleep in my arms. “I am.”
She arranges the long skirt of her pale purple dress over her crossed legs. “Still, I’m not a fan of how much older he is.”
I’m careful to keep my tone respectful when I say, “We’re at a wedding for a bride and groom with ten years between them.”
“Yes…” she says slowly, twisting her mouth. “But Shayla isn’t my daughter. You are, so it’s you I’m worried about.”
“I’ll be careful,” I whisper when I spot Martin on his return to the table.
“More careful than you were with Tyler?”
I drop my head, tears springing to my eyes.
“Oh, honey, I’m sorry.” Mom leans forward and squeezes my knee. “I shouldn’t have said that.”
“Is everything ok, my lady?” Martin asks, his hand coming to rest on my upper back above the collar of my dress, his palm so warm and comforting. “Did Bailey do something to you?”
“Bailey?” I ask, lifting my chin, trying not to blink so I don’t let the tears fall and ruin my eyeliner. “No. Why would she?”
Martin scoots his chair closer before taking his seat. “No reason.”
Fearing my tears are going to spill any second now against my will, I rise and say, “Excuse me. I need to run to the ladies’ room.”
“Honey.” Mom stands, too, her brows pulling closer as she looks at me with regret shining in her golden-brown eyes. “Martin, would you be a dear and watch Ivy for a few minutes?”
“Of course.” He lifts his hands without hesitation, taking Ivy into the cradle of his arms with a look of pure wonder, holding her as if she’s as delicate as a rose. “I’ll protect her with my life.”
“Hopefully, it won’t come to that,” she says with a brief uptick of her lips, teasing him the slightest bit, tugging my arm. “We’ll be right back.”
Thankfully, the ladies’ room is empty, the lights overhead warm and flattering. I lean over the triple vanity to blot my eyes with a paper towel carefully so I don’t rub away my under-eye concealer.
“I truly am sorry,” Mom says, pulling me into a hug when I finish assessing my makeup. “I know what Tyler did to you wasn’t your fault.”
I sniffle and nod, though truthfully, her words still hurt. I don’t like to think of Ivy being something that Tyler “did to me.” She’s my world, and if I could go back and change things, I wouldn’t, even with as hard as it is being a parent my age.
“I won’t bring him up again, if that would make you feel better,” Mom says.
“Thank you,” I whisper, stepping away when a few guests I don’t know make their way inside. “What about Martin?”
Mom pinches her lips and grabs my hands, squeezing them both. “Now, that’s a different story.”