The Blacksmith's Wife (17 page)

She was still pondering the decision when Hal entered the house. He came straight to her rather than going into the bedroom as usual and peered over her shoulder. His hair was wet from his customary dip in the river and Joanna pushed the pie aside before he could drip on it, trying to banish the image of Hal’s body as he scrubbed his taut muscles clean.

Hal was regarding the pie intently. ‘Interesting. Are the contents so unappealing it needs decoration to distract me?’

Joanna seized it up defensively and carried it to the oven. Hal came behind her, his face still serious and put his arms around her, resting his cheek against hers.

‘Don’t be cross with me, I’m jesting. It looks beautiful and I’m sure it will taste as good.’

She gave him a tight smile. If he only knew what she really had in mind for the design he might not be so happy. Her secret would remain just that for a little longer.

‘You have flour on your face.’ Hal grinned. He brushed it off with his thumb, a gesture that sent Joanna’s skin fluttering. Telling him could wait.

‘You’re back sooner than I expected.’

‘I have to go out again,’ he said. He walked into the bedroom. Joanna followed him and watched as he pulled on dry clothes. ‘I’m only going into the village. It’s May Day tomorrow and there are things to prepare.’

‘What sort of things?’ Joanna asked eagerly. It seemed incredible a day of such celebration had slipped her mind.

Hal paused by her in the doorway and kissed her forehead lightly. ‘Wait and see,’ he said.

* * *

Thundering beats on the door roused them from their bed as men from the villages came to claim ale from Hal as Lord Danby’s representative. He allowed himself to be taken away, leaving Joanna in the hands of Meg and the other women to gather flowers and greenery from the moors and bind them into wreaths.

* * *

The women arrived on the village green at midday. Raucous, uncontrolled games were taking place amid cheers and catcalls of the onlookers already well into the ale, but stopped as they appeared.

‘Crown the queen!’

The call was taken up and repeated by everyone present. Girls giggled and blushed, young men freely ogled them and Joanna felt hands in her back pushing her to the front of the crowd.

Hal appeared from among the men. He took her by the hand and turned her to face everyone. A crown of twisted greenery was placed on her head to cheers and good-natured whistles from everyone watching. Pipers began to play and dancers found their partners.

‘I thought the May Queen was supposed to be a maiden,’ Joanna whispered to Hal.

He held her waist tightly as he led her to the circle. ‘This year I thought I’d exercise my rights to choose.’

‘You can do that?’

‘I can do what I like, I’m their lord’s son,’ he joked. He put one hand on her back, the other to her cheek and looked into her eyes. ‘I cannot give you tournaments and pageants to delight you, but I wanted to give you something to remember.’

She covered her hand with his. ‘You have,’ she said. ‘This is enough.’

She realised as she said it that she spoke the truth.

* * *

The dancing and games carried on long into the night. As the sun set Hal and the men carried brands from the forge and lit the bonfire. More barrels of ale were tapped and the ox that had been roasting all afternoon was speedily eaten.

As groups and couples began to disperse to find their own diversions Joanna sat alone by the fire, warming her hands and yawning. She’d danced until her calves burned and drunk far too much wine. Her bed called her. Hal had vanished a while before, called away by the miller, and she was becoming tired of waiting. She walked home and was halfway to the door when she noticed light coming from the forge.

Curious, she walked across the dewy grass. The door was partly open, but no sound came from within. Cautiously Joanna pushed the door wider and peeped around it.

Hal was standing by his workbench. In the dull glow of the furnace Joanna could only see his back.

‘What are you doing?’ she asked.

Hal jumped at her voice. He strode towards her, blocking her entry into the forge.

‘What’s wrong? Why won’t you let me in?’ she asked.

‘Nothing’s wrong. I’m coming now,’ Hal said. His voice was guarded. He took hold of her arm and tried to turn her away.

He was so obviously hiding something. Determined to find out what Joanna twisted from his grip and pushed past him. Her blood drained slowly away, leaving her cold to the bone as she recognised her own drawing pinned to the beam above the furnace.

‘That’s mine!’ she hissed. ‘How did you get it?’

‘You dropped it on the moors,’ Hal said.

She remembered the day, but that had been over a week ago and he had kept it all this time! Furious, she lunged and ripped the drawing from the wall. She rounded on Hal.

‘How dare you keep it,’ she stormed. ‘You had no right to do that.’

She pushed roughly past him and wrenched the door open, stumbling out into the darkness.

Chapter Seventeen

H
al’s arms came round Joanna from behind before she had taken three steps.

‘Let me go!’ she spat.

‘I’m not going to do that.’ Hal’s voice was determined. ‘I understand you’re angry, but you mean too much to me to let you run now.’

His words cut through the web of anger and sorrow that surrounded Joanna.

‘I mean something to you?’ she scoffed. ‘I mean so much you shut me out of your life and keep secrets from me! Why should I believe you?’

‘Let me explain,’ Hal said, his lips close to her ear. He held her close, with infinite gentleness, but his arms were like iron bars and her struggles to wrench free proved useless. ‘Come back inside, here’s no place for an argument.’

The sound of the revelry drifted towards them across the cloud-free sky. If she continued to fight she knew absolutely Hal would let her go rather than risk public shame for either of them. She could return to the house and they would continue as they had done. A wearying future stretched ahead of them laden with secrets. Resentment. Silence. Sadness.

He’d held her close earlier when they had been dancing, a whirlwind of emotion she had not wanted to end. Something had been growing between them over the past weeks. She did not want to give that up any more than she wished to stop her heart pumping.

She stopped struggling and Hal relaxed his grip. Shrugging him off, she walked back inside the smithy, still clutching her picture tightly in her fist. Once again the heat threatened to crush what little breath she had left from her body.

Hal’s eyes never wavered from the parchment in her hand. Perhaps he feared she would throw it into the flames. In a moment of spite she moved her hand towards it. Hal stepped forward, arms out in entreaty.

‘Don’t!’ he said, a note of alarm in his voice.

‘It’s mine,’ Joanna said sharply. ‘I can do with it what I choose.’

‘I know you can. Only...’ Hal ran his hand back through his hair. ‘Joanna, your work is beautiful. Are all your drawings like this?’

She could not hide the smile of pride. ‘Some,’ she admitted. ‘Some are better.’

‘What did you think I was doing with it?’ he asked.

Joanna bit her lip. The heat from the furnace combined with too much wine made thinking hard. She crossed to the door where it was cooler. ‘I don’t know.’

‘Let me show you!’ Hal led her to the workbench. Her throat tightened as she stared at an iron eagle.

‘I was going to return your drawing to you. I almost sent it with Watt, but I kept it because it inspired me,’ Hal said ruefully. ‘As soon as I saw it I knew it was what I’d been searching for. I intended no malice.’

‘Your intention is beside the point.’ Joanna folded her arms defensively across her body. ‘This is worse. You realised what I can do, but you didn’t ask me to help.’

‘Should I have forced you to work here?’ Hal waved a hand around the cramped forge. ‘You, who grieves for the grand life of a knight’s lady? It pains me enough that you have to work in my house with only Meg to help, but to expect you to labour in these conditions? That’s too low even for me!’

‘You presumed so much to know what I
didn’t
want that you never stopped to think what I might have wanted to do!’ Joanna snapped. She took a deep breath and forced herself to regain control of her emotions. ‘Working for my uncle gave me the greatest contentment I had. I steal every moment I can to draw. I may not be able to wield a hammer or beat a wheel, as you told me so coldly, but I can etch and chase the metal.’

‘You never told me any of this,’ Hal said. ‘Why not?’

Joanna looked at the floor. ‘When I first offered to help you made it clear you didn’t want me here so I didn’t see why I should tell you. Later I was worried you might be angry that I hadn’t told you.’

‘I could never be angry with you!’ Hal exclaimed. ‘I’m hurt you kept it a secret, but angry? Not at all.’

Joanna examined the figurine on the bench to save looking into the eyes that smouldered with the intensity of the furnace. It was cruder than her picture, but even though it was unfinished the craftsmanship was evident. Pride fluttered in Joanna’s breast that her work could turn into something so fine.

She crossed to the furnace, braving the stifling heat, parchment in hand. Hal made no move to stop her though his shoulders and jaw tensed and his eyes followed her closely, his visible unhappiness razing her conscience. He inclined his head towards her. He was not granting her permission as much as acknowledging her right to do as she wished and in that moment she felt an overwhelming sense of affection towards him. She took an adze from the workbench and held the point deep in the glowing coals.

‘It wasn’t finished,’ she said quietly. She made half-a-dozen quick strokes with the sooty tip of the tool and the bird sprang to life. She held the paper out for Hal to see and saw for the first time how her hand shook. ‘Now it’s complete.’

Hal reached for the parchment. Joanna expected him to take it from her, but instead he closed both his hands over hers. His touch burned into her skin even in the heat of the room.

‘You shouldn’t have kept it from me,’ Joanna said, simply. ‘If you had asked I would gladly have shared everything with you, but you only wanted my work. You didn’t want
me
.’ Her voice was little more than a whisper. Speaking the words aloud was enough to squeeze the breath from her lungs and the blood from her heart.

‘Not want you!’ Hal’s eyes widened with surprise. ‘Do you have any idea of the power you exert over me, Joanna?’ He took her face in between his hands and held her gaze. ‘You don’t, do you? For days now a single work or kindly glance in my direction has been enough to make the moon shine as bright as the sun.’

Joanna stared back into Hal’s eyes, rimmed with red, surrounded by dark circles and filled with a whirlpool of conflicting emotions—hope, anxiety, remorse. Her knees went weak. Her attraction to him was becoming harder to ignore and the need to be in his arms flared inside her. She laced the fingers of her free hand through his.

The anxiety in Hal’s eyes was replaced instantly with joy and something Joanna recognised as desire. He broke into a wide smile that caused his eyes to smoulder with more intensity than before.

She put her hand to his cheek and tugged him into a kiss. His lips found hers, not gentle as she had expected, but hard and urgent. She wrapped her arms around Hal’s neck to prevent herself falling and felt his hands come around her body, fingers spreading wide as they roved across her back and waist.

She met his kiss with a passion that caught her unawares. Not since the first morning of their marriage had his lips been so demanding, so frantic with desire that it left her reeling.

Hal pushed her back against the wall with a violence that knocked the breath from her body. She wrapped her arms around his back as his legs parted hers, his hardness pushing against her. She tugged his tunic upwards so she could run her fingers over his chest and he growled. The sound reached inside her like a fist twisting her insides into a knot from heart to groin. She scraped her fingernails down the length of his spine before bringing them round to skim across his nipples. He broke away, fixing her with eyes that burned.

His voice was hoarse. ‘When you touch me like that it tips me over the edge of madness. I want you so much it hurts beyond endurance. I’m cautioning you, if you carry on touching me that way I’ll take you here and now. I won’t be able to stop.’

Joanna licked her lips and swallowed. She slid her hand down between their bodies, feeling the proof of his words. She brushed her hand against the hardness she felt and lifted her face. Hal was watching her intently, his eyes drunk with lust. She recognised in his expression the desire that filled herself.

‘Then don’t stop,’ she murmured.

Hal’s lips were on hers before she had finished speaking. His hands roved across her body, lifting her skirts, pushing aside the shift beneath. His fingers began moving against her, stroking, teasing. She cried out through his kiss as an overwhelming need enveloped her. The familiar pressure began to build deep inside her belly. She sighed in pleasure, pushing her hips forward. A wave of pleasure shot through her as Hal’s touch became firmer. She brushed her fingers through the dark down of his chest to stroke the firm muscles. Her hands continued downwards to take hold of him by the waist. She felt herself sagging against the wall, but Hal’s other hand tightened around her back, holding her upright. His lips found her neck, nipping gently at the flesh beneath her ear with his teeth. When he took her earlobe between his lips she sighed and pulled him closer.

Hal’s stroke was faster now. Every movement of his thumb sent greater crests of pleasure through Joanna until the pressure burst, splitting her body in two and she cried aloud. She sagged as molten steel encased her limbs, but Hal had not finished with her.

He held her against the wall, his chest hard against hers as he tugged his britches downwards. With trembling hands Joanna reached down, her hand closing around him. Hal moaned with pleasure, his hips grinding against Joanna as he closed his hand over hers. He plunged into her, sending coils of heat pounding through Joanna’s body. With the full length of his body he crushed her against the wall. His fingers tightened in her hair and she locked her arms around his back, refusing to let him draw back until at last, driving deep inside her, he gave a guttural cry that echoed around the forge. His arms closed around her and they slid to the floor, limbs tangled together in a heap of exhaustion.

* * *

They slept. For how long he did not know, but when Hal woke it was not yet light. Joanna was in his arms, his entire frame enveloping hers, their legs entangled. He shook his head in disbelief. What they had done had an urgency that he had not experienced before and Joanna had been his equal in it, revelling in the fire that consumed them both. It had been a revelation; so similar to every time before but far beyond a simple coupling. Holding her as she slept, he knew without question his heart would be hers if she ever desired it.

Joanna sighed and nuzzled against Hal’s shoulder. The slight crease in the centre of her forehead was smoothed away by sleep leaving her looking free of cares. Hal was still staring at the lines at the corners of her mouth when her eyes opened and met his. She stretched her arms and looked around in surprise, then blushed fiercely.

‘I know I never promised you a life of luxury, but I should be ashamed of myself, making you sleep on the floor of a smithy,’ Hal said wryly.

He would have bit back the words instantly if he could. Why draw attention to the inadequacy of what he could offer her? If she turned away his world would end.

Joanna stroked a hand along the length of Hal’s arm, then slipped it under the open neck of his shirt. ‘I’ll sleep anywhere as long as I’m with you,’ she whispered.

Hal lifted her chin, his throat seizing with joy. ‘I’ve been such a fool,’ he whispered. ‘I’ve mismanaged everything. I wanted to give you a home and security, but I brought you here with no thought to what would make you happy. Can you ever forgive me?’

‘I forgive you,’ Joanna said. She frowned. ‘But there can be no more deception. If I am to live as your wife I want to play a role in every part of your life.’

‘Gladly!’ Hal drew her towards him so they were lying chest to chest. She smiled up at him and a worm of worry burrowed into his heart as he thought of what he hadn’t told her. Later. Not now.

He gestured around the forge where the glow of the furnace was beginning to dim. ‘We’ll work here together if that’s what you want to do. I’ll find someone to help Meg in the house. I want you here beside me. Always.’

His thumbs softly traced the line of her cheekbones.

‘I want that, too,’ she answered.

Hal kissed her, slowly.

Joanna rolled on to her side to better reach him. He was already hard as she brushed her hips against his and he groaned. His lips parted hers, his tongue demanding entry as a proxy for the other admittance he was already aching for.

‘Again?’ She smiled. She ran a finger lightly across Hal’s chest, sending bursts of white-hot pleasure racing through him.

‘Why not?’ he growled. ‘I wanted you then and I want you now.’

‘Here, though?’ Joanna glanced towards the door where a purple tinge had begun to change the sky from black. ‘It’s getting light, someone will find us.’

Hal exhaled loudly. ‘Very well, I would be a poor husband if I refused such a demand and I’ve been one of those long enough!’ He threw his arms about Joanna’s waist and looked deep into her eyes. ‘We’d better go now. The mere thought of you is too much to resist and I mean to have you soon, whether here, our bed or the kitchen table!’

A thrill raced through him at the idea. Perhaps one day, he promised himself. From the look in Joanna’s eye he could almost believe she read his thoughts. Stifling their whispers and trembling with anticipation they ran hand in hand to the house. Hal was half out of his tunic as he flung open the door to their bedchamber and tumbled on to the mattress, pulling Joanna with him.

When, in years to come, he thought back to the early months of their marriage, those first few hours glowed in his memory like the slowly rising sun at daybreak.

* * *

Hal’s life with Joanna was entirely divided into the time before and the time after May Day. He had feared the events of the night would turn out to have been entirely brought about by the wine they’d both drunk and in the light of day and sobriety he would find her cold and distant as she had once been. The idea of Joanna once again compliantly submitting to his attentions as no more than a dutiful wife chilled his blood.

He needn’t have worried. Joanna’s passion every time since had been astonishing. That she had come to him eagerly after a quarrel of such violence had been unexpected in itself, but to find her willing in his arms time after time was nothing short of staggering.

When once she had lain silently, now she drove him on whenever he began to plant kisses from her neck to her breasts. When his hands and mouth travelled further down she cried out with abandon and clutched at Hal tightly enough that her fingernails sent darts of delicious pain through his back. He didn’t mind. He’d wear the marks she left proudly; proof that his wife was no longer the stranger he’d married. Long after Joanna slipped into a deep satisfied sleep, a smile of contentment on her lips, Hal would lie awake, determined to capture each memory in case she awoke one day changed.