The Blacksmith's Wife. Elisabeth Hobbes
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She wore a dark-blue dress, high necked and tight sleeved beneath a sombre grey surcoat, belted tight beneath her breasts. Her hair was braided and held back from her face with a linen band. In such a setting she appeared as delicate and out of place as a wren in a nest of crows. The impression was such a contrast to the gaily dressed, flighty girl he had encountered at the camp that Hal was transfixed.
She was not beautiful, at least not in the way he preferred his women to be, but engrossed in her task Joanna’s face was alight with enthusiasm, lending her cheeks a blush of rose. Her figure he already knew from having examined her the previous night. A slight stirring of excitement made him grin. Whatever other reservations he might have about marriage to Joanna, the physical aspects were not among them. He would enjoy getting to know his wife once they were wed.
Joanna muttered to herself, made a swift stroke with a quill and looked up. Too late to glance away her eyes trapped Hal’s. She frowned, a small furrow appearing between her eyes before she broke into a wide smile. She jumped from her chair and crossed the room to him.
‘Master Danby, what brings you here?’ she asked warmly. ‘Do you have a message for me?’ Her voice was hopeful, leaving Hal in no doubt whose word she craved.
He ignored the faint stab of jealousy that pricked his chest, deciding that whatever else occurred, Joanna would never discover Roger’s indifference from him. ‘I’m here to see your uncle.’
Simon Vernon finally noticed him. He strode to Hal, an eager expression on his face. ‘You again. Should I assume you are here because of our conversation last night?’
Hal bowed. ‘Good morning, Master Vernon. I am indeed here to discuss your proposal.’ He glanced at Joanna who was still standing beside her uncle, her eyes bright with suspicion. Master Vernon followed his gaze.
‘Joanna, go fetch ale for us. Make haste, girl!’ he exclaimed, pushing her shoulder.
Hal’s teeth gritted. If he had needed confirmation that he was making the right choice, the man’s manner towards his niece was enough. Joanna left the building.
Simon Vernon watched her go, then turned to Hal. ‘You’re here to ask for her hand?’
Hal took a deep breath. ‘I am.’
Now the words were out the weight of anxiety lifted from his shoulders.
‘Last night I was certain you would refuse,’ Simon said. ‘What changed your mind? Was the promise of my good favour too much to resist?’
Hal smiled politely. ‘Naturally.’
Simon Vernon held out a hand. ‘Then the matter is settled. Now let’s discuss terms.’
* * *
Joanna tapped her foot impatiently as the serving girl filled an earthenware jug with maddening slowness, all the while wondering what her uncle and Hal had been discussing. When she first saw him her heart had leapt, believing for one blissful moment that Sir Roger had changed his mind and sent his brother as messenger. Of course that had been foolish. From what she was learning of Hal he was too proud to consent to carry out such a task. This was not merely a visit for courtesy, however. From the way her uncle had dismissed her she knew there was more to Hal’s appearance and she was determined to find out what it was.
* * *
She arrived back at the foundry with heels skidding in the mud. The two men were facing each other, arms folded and legs set wide, consciously or unconsciously mirroring each other’s stance. They were both talking and smiling, but when Joanna entered Hal’s face became serious.
‘Bring the ale quickly, Joanna,’ her uncle instructed. ‘We have something to drink to.’
Obediently Joanna walked to the table at the back of the room and filled two cups. She picked them up and turned to find Hal standing close behind her.
‘Let me help,’ he said, taking the cups from her hand. He stared down at Joanna with an intensity that sent warm shivers running across her scalp.
‘Come here, girl!’ Simon called. As she joined them his jowly face split into a smile. ‘I said last night I would find you a husband if you could not find your own. Master Danby here has asked for your hand and I have agreed.’
The room spun and grew hotter. Joanna looked at the furnace to check if it had flamed suddenly, but it burned as steadily as always.
‘You must have misunderstood,’ she said. ‘Surely he means on behalf of Sir Roger.’
Simon snorted contemptuously. ‘Of course he doesn’t. You can forget any dreams of Sir Roger asking you. I know I have. The sooner you get him out of your head the happier you’ll be.’
‘I don’t believe you.’ Her voice echoed in her ears.
‘Believe it, you silly chit,’ Simon snapped. ‘Master Danby has excellent prospects and will make a good husband. What possible objections could you have?’
‘I don’t know him!’
‘You were happy enough to go flitting about the city with him yesterday like a common wench with no regard for your name!’ Simon barked.
‘He’s a bastard!’ Joanna faltered. Hal’s head whipped up as though she had struck him physically. His eyes bored into her, the pupils large and black, pinning her to the spot with their intensity. ‘I’m sorry...’ she began.
‘I bear my father’s name and I hold land on his estate,’ Hal said curtly. ‘My status does not shame me.’
‘Master Danby is right. What does that matter?’ Simon asked. ‘He is a lord’s son by birth and his children will be legitimate.’
Children. Joanna’s stomach heaved at the thought of children and what creating them would entail. The thought of anyone touching her in the way Roger had made her want to scream.
Simon gripped Joanna by the arm and pulled her to the back of the room out of Hal’s hearing. His face was stern.
‘It is good fortune you happened upon someone who did not take advantage and make you completely unmarriageable, but enough is enough,’ he growled. ‘I have wasted three years while you waited for his brother and I’m not prepared to wait any longer. Master Danby has clearly seen the advantages such a match will bring. I suggest you do the same. This man or Thomas Gruffydd, but no more waiting.’
He dropped her arm and stormed out, leaving Joanna in no doubt that he intended to be obeyed. Hal was watching closely, his mouth a thin line.
‘What advantages does he mean?’ Joanna asked as soon as Simon was out of earshot. She closed her eyes as the answer struck her with sudden clarity.
‘No, I understand. It’s guild business, isn’t it? How did you manage to coerce him?’
‘The idea was not mine. Your uncle suggested it.’ Hal frowned. ‘Why do you assume I want the marriage any more than you do?’
A feeling of nausea told her he was speaking the truth. Hadn’t Simon threatened to find her a husband only last night?
‘So you’re buying me?’ Joanna said, her voice shaking. ‘Do you gain admittance to the guild as a reward?’
‘Actually, I don’t!’ Hal said. ‘I’m not buying you. I gain nothing at this time other than a wife and the promise that I can petition for membership sooner than the customary year is up if I feel able. I’m not sure I get the best out of the deal.’
Hal stepped closer and put a hand gently on her shoulder. Joanna shrugged it off again violently.
‘I don’t love you,’ she said coldly.
Hal raised an eyebrow. ‘Nor I you. It would be rare if we did after such a short time knowing each other. I don’t expect you to feel for me what you did my brother, but perhaps in time we will become fond of each other.’
Joanna crossed her arms, the mention