The Art of turning heart

19 |

I stood from the piano, the final notes lingering in the air as I reached for Edward's hands. "Come," I whispered softly, entwining my fingers with his as I pulled him to his feet.

His brow arched, a curious smile tugging at his lips. "And where, pray tell, are you taking me now?"

I slid my arms around his neck, drawing closer until our faces were but inches apart. "I want to dance," I murmured, biting my lip in the most innocent yet suggestive of ways.

Edward sighed dramatically, though his eyes betrayed his amusement. "Ah, I see. And who am I to refuse such a request?"

We began to sway gently to the rhythm only we could hear. His hands rested lightly on my waist, pulling me closer with each step. The world outside vanished, leaving only the soft shuffle of our feet and the warmth between us.

"You are terribly demanding, you know," he teased, his lips brushing my temple.

I smiled against his shoulder. "And yet, you never complain."

His chuckle vibrated through his chest. "Perhaps because I enjoy indulging your whims, though it pains me to admit it."

I lifted my head, catching his lips in a quick kiss before pulling away just enough to speak. "See?" I whispered with a sly grin, "You can't help yourself."

He grinned, leaning down to kiss me again, this time lingering longer. "It appears I am utterly at your mercy."

"You always have been," I replied, laughing softly as our foreheads touched. "But don't pretend you don't love it."

Edward's hand moved to my back, holding me even closer as we swayed. His lips brushed mine again, but just as I leaned in for more, he pulled back with a teasing smile.

"And you," he said, his voice low, "are entirely too full of yourself."

I laughed, rolling my eyes. "As if you don't enjoy every second of it."

Before he could retort, I silenced him with another kiss, and we lost ourselves in the dance, our words melting into kisses, our teasing into tenderness.

As I entered the drawing room, the gentle murmur of conversation ceased, and all eyes turned toward me. I managed a polite smile, feeling the weight of the stares settling on my hand—more specifically, on the glittering ring that now adorned my finger.

"Ah, what have we here?" Gavin was the first to speak, his voice light with amusement as he raised a brow in my direction. "Could it be... a certain someone has finally made an honest woman of you?"

I felt the heat rise in my cheeks as my mother, perched elegantly on the chaise longue, gasped in mock surprise. "Oh, do let me see it!" she said, reaching for my hand before I had a chance to pull away. "He has impeccable taste, doesn't he? It's simply splendid."

Seraphina, her eyes wide with wonder, was already at my side, practically bouncing on her toes. "Show me! I want to see!" she cried, tugging at my sleeve.

I forced a smile, trying to appear composed. "It's... just a ring," I murmured, my face burning under their collective gaze.

"Just a ring?" My mother gasped, her hand flying to her chest. "It's an heirloom, darling! The Hawthorn family doesn't bestow such treasures lightly."

Seraphina, of course, was oblivious to my discomfort. "Let me hold it! Please, just for a moment!" Her small hands were already reaching for mine.

I managed to withdraw just in time, laughing nervously. "I think not, Sera. It's far too precious."