Page 79 of The Curse and the Silver Rose

The fine lad was one of Laughlin’s cousins from Ennisfall. His hair was thick and auburn, his jaw was square, and he had the vigorous physique of a knight or swordsman. He wore a dark green suit, which made his emerald eyes all the more striking.

She’d only glimpsed him when he arrived that afternoon, as she was taking Colette upstairs to get ready.

With a nudge, Philomene urged Amelie toward the man. He offered his hand, which she took, and he led her to the dance floor. She felt Raphael and Marcel’s eyes on her.

“My name is Cian,” he said, placing a hand on her waist.

They began to dance, swaying gently to the music.

“Lovely to meet you, Cian. I am?—”

“Amelie.” He grinned, revealing a slightly chipped front tooth. “I know who you are. I asked around, I hope you don’t mind.”

“Not at all.”

“Laughlin says your favorite thing to do is read. I have to say, that’s brilliant.”

Amelie brightened. “You think so?”

“Of course. Perhaps you can teach me.”

“You can not read?”

He clicked his tongue. “What an impolite thing to ask someone.”

“Oh, you are right.” She felt her face redden. “I am so s?—”

“Ach, I should not tease you, sweet soul.” He drew her closer by her waist, grinning down at her. “Forgive me for wanting to see you blush.”

This only made Amelie blush more. She turned her head and pressed her cheek to his broad shoulder to hide it.

“You are forgiven,” she replied softly.

They danced for several songs, and Cian was excellent company. He was funny and warm and down to earth. He smelled nice, like smoky wood and blackberries. He listened at least as much as he spoke, and he seemed genuinely intrigued by what Amelie had to say.

And yet, his touch made her sad. Feeling his heartbeat through his clothes made her nauseous. She felt like she was committing a grave betrayal. Not just of Davron, which was a given. But strangely, of herself, too.

Entertaining another man went against the wishes of her heart and mind. Cian was perfectly lovely, and she did not wish to reject him in front of everyone, but if she had to dance in his arms for one minute longer, she thought she might lose her mind completely.

She was trying to catch Raphael’s eye, to induce him to cut in, when a vibrant explosion of color in the sky saved her. With a gasp, Amelie broke apart from Cian. All around her, guests stopped dancing and looked up, laughing and clapping.

Marcel stood a few paces clear of the party, setting off the firelights. The dark sky filled with glorious pink and red hearts. Arm in arm, Colette and Laughlin watched, the colors reflected on their upturned faces. The luminous hearts expanded until a smaller heart took its place and grew bigger, and the pattern would repeat. Eventually, in puffs of grey smoke, the spectacle ended.

Colette let out a cheer and Laughlin whistled. Even though the firelights had faded, the outlines of the red and pink hearts were imprinted on Amelie’s vision.

“I am madly in love with Davron,” she said, still looking up.

As soon as she’d said the words, she wondered why it had taken her so long to realize the truth of her feelings. It was obvious. She loved him, and she was utterly miserable at the idea of living without him.

Cian chuckled. “Are you just? Well, Davron’s a fortunate lad, I’ll tell you that much for nothing.”

Amelie met Cian’s eyes and she laughed, too. Suddenly, everything seemed different. Everything made sense.

She loved Davron.

“Oh, he’s had his share of misfortune,” she replied. “But I hope to turn that around.” She curtsied to Cian. “Thank you for the dance.”

He bowed in return. “It was my pleasure.”

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