The Blacksmith's Wife. Elisabeth Hobbes
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said nothing, but when she finally raised her head he had moved her cup closer to her reach. She gave him a thin smile of gratitude and wiped her eyes on the end of the yellow scarf she had hoped Roger would take as her favour. She twisted it tightly between her fingers.
‘How can you be so certain you love Roger?’ Hal asked softly.
Joanna raised her eyes to meet Hal’s defiantly. ‘Anyone who knows him would love him. He’s a great knight—or will be when his fortunes change. No one else has ever made me feel so desired.’
‘Are you sure it isn’t simply the idea of what he does that attracts you?’ He sounded so scathing that the blood rose in Joanna’s cheeks. Her head spun from the wine. She pointed an accusing finger at him.
‘What he does is wonderful. Why should I be ashamed of loving him for that? You’re bitter because he has what you’ll never have,’ she spat.
‘And I’ve told you I have no wish for his position. I’m happy in mine,’ Hal answered with a glare, his voice rising. Again, the men at the next table glanced over. ‘Or I was!’ he finished bitterly, lowering his voice. His eyes fell on the mysterious bundle once more and sorrow crossed his face.
‘What is that?’ Joanna asked quietly. ‘You haven’t told me what put you into such a dark mood. It’s to do with that, isn’t it?’ she said.
Wordlessly Hal lifted the bundle and laid it on the table in front of him. He unfolded the cloth. A thick-bladed sword lay before Joanna.
‘Is that Roger’s?’ she asked.
‘It’s mine.’ Hal raised his chin and fixed Joanna with an intense stare. ‘I made it. I’m a blacksmith,’ he said with dignity.
Hal’s presence in Bedern made sense now.
‘You were at the guild,’ Joanna said. She was about to admit her connection but Hal gave an angry sigh.
‘For the little good it did me. I have finished my time as a journeyman and crafted this as my masterwork. I thought it was fine enough but I was wrong,’ Hal said shortly. ‘A pack of overfed, overgilded men who sit in judgement on overstuffed chairs!’
He continued to rant and Joanna sat back to listen, hiding a smile at the description of her uncle and his fellow guildsmen. Hal’s voice was heavy with disappointment and she did not want him to think he was the cause of her amusement. Instead she nudged his cup of wine towards him with her own and turned her attention to the sword.
Years of living and working with Simon Vernon told her at a glance why the guild had rejected it. The weapon was well proportioned, but the design was crude with too much clamouring for attention. With a scrap of parchment and ink she could have designed better herself. She merely nodded, suspecting Hal would not appreciate any further criticism.
Hal clearly misinterpreted her silence as a lack of opinion. He sniffed, giving her a condescending smile.
‘Of course a woman wouldn’t appreciate the work involved in crafting something of even this standard.’
‘Of course,’ Joanna agreed icily. She traced the tip of her finger across the heavy knotwork of the pommel and turned to face him with a cold smile. ‘You should put this away or it may attract the attention of someone capable of wielding it.’
That blow hit home with alarming results. Hal’s face hardened.
‘I know how to use it,’ he said. ‘My father—and brother—intended me to be Roger’s squire. I received all the training my brother did. I can fight as well as he can.’
He pushed the table back and stood. ‘Now we have both succeeded in insulting the other I think our business here is done.’
‘I agree,’ Joanna said. ‘Farewell, Master Danby.’ She stood and brushed past him, affecting to make as little contact as possible, and stalked towards the door. She had barely taken ten steps into the street before footsteps pounded behind her and a hand seized her arm. She gasped in alarm.
‘What do you think you are doing?’ Hal asked.
‘Going home!’ Joanna answered, trying and failing to shake free of his grip.
‘Not alone,’ Hal said. He gestured at the darkening sky. ‘It’s growing late and a woman should not be roaming the streets alone.’
‘These are my streets, I know them better than you and I don’t need your protection,’ Joanna said. She wrenched herself free and folded both arms tightly across her chest, staring moodily at Hal. ‘Besides, I thought we agreed we had offended each other enough to merit parting company.’
‘Offended or not, I insist,’ Hal said calmly. ‘You are here at my whim and therefore you are my responsibility. I would not see you come to harm.’
‘My hopes are dashed and my heart is broken. What further harm could befall me?’ Joanna sniffed.
‘Do you really want me to list the ways?’ Hal asked darkly.
Joanna scuffed her foot and pretended to consider her answer. He was right; the city was no place to be walking alone, however much she wished to be rid of his company.
‘Are you going to stop behaving like a foolish child or shall I throw you over my shoulder and take you anyway?’
‘You wouldn’t dare!’
The skin at the corner of Hal’s eyes crinkled with amusement. Against her will Joanna smiled.
‘Very well, as you give me no choice,’ she said.
‘You will have to direct me as I don’t know where you live,’ Hal reminded her.
As she slipped her arm through his Joanna suppressed an involuntary smile. Uncle Simon would have long since finished his business and she took great pleasure in anticipating the surprise in Hal’s arrogant eyes when he discovered whose house he had arrived at.
* * *
‘Where are you leading me?’ Hal grumbled as Joanna turned down yet another snicket. ‘We could have walked to Whitby by now.’
‘You are free to leave me any time you wish,’ Joanna replied curtly.
They were the first words she had spoken, the first acknowledgement she had given that he existed at all since reluctantly submitting to Hal’s demand to accompany her. Occasionally what might have been a sob escaped but was quickly stifled. Hal could not pretend to be anything other than relieved that she was keeping her emotions in check.
Presumably she would give vent to her feelings once more when she was home, wherever that might be. Hal stared down the narrow street leading off into a warren of alleyways and grimaced.
‘I swear we have passed this way three times already,’ he said. ‘These alleys are no place to be walking at night.’
Joanna stopped walking abruptly, causing Hal to bump into her. She finally met his eyes. ‘You can defend us with your fine sword, can’t you?’ she said. The faintest trace of a smile curved about her lips, challenging rather than amused. ‘Are you worried you’ll get lost?’
‘I don’t like cities and this is the least welcoming I’ve been in for a long time,’ he answered. Though it could equally be the company influencing my mood, he thought darkly.
‘You’ll recognise where we are soon enough,’ Joanna replied. She motioned to carry on walking.
Her head barely came to Hal’s shoulders. If she had not been holding herself stiffly at arm’s length she would nestle in the crook of his arm quite satisfactorily. Hal glanced down at Joanna’s bowed head. He preferred his women to be tall and willowy, but he decided Joanna’s curves would be a pleasure to bundle up against in an evening that was rapidly becoming chilly. Perhaps he should have made good his threat to throw her over his shoulder after all.
Lost in thoughts he knew should be forbidden, Hal barely registered when