The Blacksmith's Wife (20 page)

There was an uncomfortable silence, broken eventually by Lord Danby.

‘Do you feel confident?’ he asked.

Hal toyed with his goblet. ‘I think I stand a good chance of succeeding, even though it is earlier than the year I was given.’

Joanna gave a slight smile that did not reach her eyes. ‘I’m sure you will,’ she said, her voice low.

‘We must hope Roger will meet with equal success,’ Lady Danby added.

‘Naturally.’ Roger eyed Hal maliciously, then turned a charming smile on Joanna. ‘We all have to play to our strengths and, after all, mine is on the field, not in the forge.’

He tilted his cup to her. She smiled faintly and Roger lifted an eyebrow at Hal.

‘Now your horse is well shod you should have no problems staying mounted at the tilt,’ Hal said smoothly. He refilled Roger’s goblet and raised his own in salute.

‘Yes, you did a good job, you’re an excellent smith. If only I had a worthy opponent to practise against.’ Roger sighed. ‘This part of England is sadly so lacking in noblemen.’

The comment wasn’t particularly barbed, certainly no worse than any of the jibes the brothers had tossed at each other over the years, but Hal felt his jaw clench.

‘It’s still light outside. Allow me to offer my services, poor as they are,’ he growled. There was steel in his voice.

Roger stood and pushed his chair back. ‘It would be a pleasure. Lance or sword?’

‘Sword,’ Hal said. ‘There’s no point working the horses now.’

Both Joanna and Lady Danby began to protest, but Lord Danby waved a hand. ‘No, let them go,’ he said amiably. ‘I see no harm in it, they’ve often practised together.’

Hal marched from the room, reflecting that had his father been able to see the expressions on his sons’ faces he might have thought otherwise. Joanna caught him by the arm as he headed to the courtyard. He snapped his head round and she recoiled in alarm.

‘You don’t have to fight Roger,’ she said. ‘He was goading you.’

Hal smiled grimly. ‘I know I don’t have to, but I want to and I intend to win.’

Joanna’s face creased with anxiety. ‘I don’t want you to get hurt,’ she said.

His spirits lifted at her concern, but her next words sent them plummeting again.

‘How can you hope to win against such a seasoned knight?’

Hal’s guts twisted at the comparison. Of course she would champion Roger. ‘I thank you for your confidence in my abilities,’ he said bitterly.

She gasped in shock. Hal stormed off before she could reply, or before her lips twisted in surprise could break his heart even further. He hurried to the courtyard, determination renewed to face his brother and win.

Eyeing each other grimly, they strapped on padded surcoats and took wooden swords from the servant who stood in attendance. They both bowed to Lord Danby and the two ladies who stood either side of him, then made their way to the square.

Roger began to edge around, twisting his sword about his wrist. He made a few experimental thrusts forward. Hal stepped around, allowing Roger to set the pace, and caught each blow before it could hit. Whatever Joanna believed, the sword was not Roger’s best event. He was lunging with far too much vigour and little sense of a plan. Hal parried his thrusts in a leisurely fashion, enjoying the annoyance in Roger’s eyes.

‘Aren’t you going to fight me properly?’ Roger panted. It was early in the bout to be showing obvious signs of exerting himself, Hal noticed. He lunged forward, knocking Roger’s blade aside with a clatter that resounded around the courtyard, and then quickly stepped out of reach.

‘We’re only sparring,’ he said calmly.

‘But this is your chance to show Joanna you could have been the knight she wanted,’ Roger said mockingly.

‘Do you think you can say anything about Joanna that can affect me?’ Hal said. He had barely broken a sweat while Roger was red in the face, yet his heart threatened to burst. He concentrated on steadying his heartbeat as he twisted around.

‘I don’t remember her being so withdrawn,’ Roger said through heavy breaths. For someone who had been competing for months he was woefully out of condition.

‘If you think you can goad me into a false move you’re mistaken,’ Hal answered, ‘and there’s nothing wrong with Joanna.’

Roger paused, giving Hal the chance to land a blow that his brother barely managed to avoid.

‘Are you sure?’ Despite the near miss Roger grinned slyly. ‘She’s so pale.’

Hal’s throat caught. Roger was right. They edged round, feet scuffing in the dirt. Roger laughed and made another vicious jab forward.

‘You won’t keep her,’ Roger taunted. ‘I can see it in her eyes, she’s not truly yours. I know it and you know it. How long before she goes elsewhere craving affection?’

Hal advanced with a series of powerful strokes that pounded Roger backwards.

‘From you?’ Hal spat. Fire coursed through his limbs. ‘You don’t care about her. You may want her, but that’s where it ends.’

Roger smirked. ‘The crucial difference is she loves me. She doesn’t love you and never will.’

Hal lowered his blade as Roger’s words cut deep. For months his feelings for Joanna had become overpowering. He had dared to believe she returned his affection, but that had been with Roger absent. The time between May Day and Roger’s arrival now appeared nothing more than a brief interval that could never have lasted.

He could admit defeat and await the slow death of the life they had started to build together or he could fight for her. With a roar he raised his sword aloft and rounded on Roger. With renewed determination he lunged forward, raining blows down on his startled opponent until Roger stumbled backwards and his sword flew from his hand.

Hal lowered his blade and nodded at his brother.

‘Stay away from my wife,’ he commanded.

He walked to where the three onlookers stood, bowed to his father and Lady Danby and took hold of Joanna by the arm. She gazed up at him apprehensively.

‘Come on,’ he said. ‘We’re going home.’

Chapter Twenty

T
he journey to Ravenscrag had never seemed so short. They rode fast, Joanna watching Hal with desire she could barely suppress. Since the day he had returned from wherever he went and told her he no longer needed her help there had been a distance between them, but tonight she watched the fire light within him once more. His eyes had blazed with passion as he had led her by the arm away from the courtyard, sending thrills of excitement through her.

As he lifted her down from Rowan she pushed herself against his chest, lifting her face and brushing her lips against his. His eyes widened in surprise and his kiss came with a fierceness she was not expecting. She threw her arms about his neck. He swung Joanna into his arms and carried her through the house to their bedchamber.

Hal pulled Joanna down to the bed. She followed eagerly. Her fingers brushed his chest and he moaned. She tugged at his clothes, loosening his tunic. Hal guided her hands about his waist, pressing her fingers into the flesh as he unlaced her dress and slipped it downwards. Hal’s fingers began to stroke her belly and he ran his lips along the curve of her neck. Joanna’s head swam. She arched her back from the bed to welcome his touch, her head spinning with need.

* * *

A long time later she lay in his arms, head resting on his chest, and listened to the steady rhythm of his heart keeping time with her own. Roger must have been mistaken. Hal did want her, how else could she explain the tightness of his embrace or the fierceness of his kisses? His face flitted in her mind briefly, indistinct as a wraith and as welcome. She banished it and smiled at her husband.

‘You fought so well tonight,’ she murmured. ‘You have such skill.’

She felt rather than saw Hal’s mood change. His muscles stiffened where previously they had been soft beside her.

‘My skill. That explains your enthusiasm tonight,’ he muttered, his voice taut. ‘I don’t want to be a knight and I never did. You need to realise that and stop wishing I was some—’ He broke off. ‘Some
thing
else,’ he finished.

‘I don’t,’ she whispered, but he seemed not to hear her.

He rolled on to his back and folded his arms across his chest, a barrier impossible to break through.

‘The day after tomorrow I’ll go to York and present my work to your uncle and his men. I’ll find my success in my own way. The way I know best, and I’ll do it alone.’

Joanna stared at the shafts of moonlight in silence.

Alone.

If Hal succeeded she would be of no further use to him. He’d already shut her out of the forge. Would that be the end of his regard for her? She did not want to think what would become of her and her child if that was the case, but worse, she could not bear to lose him knowing she had fallen so deeply in love.

* * *

Hal paced rapidly around the bedchamber as he dressed, not for the first time reminding Joanna of some powerful animal caged against its will. She watched him from the bed, barely needing to feign the weariness she had told him would keep her there for longer than usual. The last weeks had been easier and she no longer felt nausea at every turn, but now at times her limbs felt as heavy as lead. The ride of the night before, and what they had done on their return, had left her exhausted.

Hal pulled the tunic on and ran a hand through his hair. He locked eyes with Joanna, causing a shiver to caress her body. He came to sit on the edge of the bed and reached for her hand, rubbing his thumb gently across her palm.

‘Meg won’t be able to come today. Are you certain you’re going to be all right?’ he asked.

At the concern in his voice, Joanna’s throat tightened. She threaded her fingers through his. Beneath the covers her free hand shifted surreptitiously to her belly. Her suspicions could no longer be denied, yet she had still not told Hal she was carrying his child.

‘I’m just tired. I haven’t been sleeping well,’ she answered.

The relief on his face was clear. He sprang from the bed and continued dressing.

‘Good. I won’t be gone as long today.’ A furrow appeared between Hal’s eyes. ‘I can barely spare the time as it is. I have so much to do before I leave for York tomorrow.’

The corner of Joanna’s mouth twitched at the sight of him so anxious. She pushed herself on her elbows.

‘I’m sure it will be perfect. Whatever you have made.’

She tried to keep the resentment from her voice, but failed. Since Hal had begun work on his new piece for the contest he had gently, kindly and most definitely hinted Joanna was no longer welcome in the forge. She did not mind, in truth. Since the summer had arrived in full force the heat had come close to making her faint and she was glad to be out of the stifling room.

It was what the change symbolised that burned into her heart with such agony. Since hearing of the contest Hal had been a man obsessed with his work. As in the early days of their marriage he barely spent daylight hours outside his forge. Then she had welcomed his absence, but now she missed him more than she thought possible. She had her secret, Hal had his and each day they did not share them was a day they grew further apart.

Today she intended to discover one of them for herself. Whatever she might find, she decided she would rather know.

As soon as Hal left Joanna climbed from the bed and dressed. She picked up her cloak before deciding against it. The day was already warm and stuffy. She made her way to the stable and saddled Rowan. The mare snickered amiably in greeting. Her conscience stabbed, but she silenced it.

‘If he won’t tell me, I’ll have to find out for myself,’ she told Rowan.

Simon waddled from the house, barked expectantly and rubbed against her legs. She scratched his ears and carried him back into the house.

‘You can’t come with me,’ she said, ‘I’m going riding.’

‘Joanna, good morning. Where are you going at such an early hour?’

She jumped at the voice behind her and turned, her heart sinking.

Roger was standing beside Rowan.

‘Hal isn’t here,’ Joanna said flatly. She leaned past him and took the reins.

‘I know Hal isn’t here,’ Roger said. ‘I came to see you.’

‘I can’t talk to you now,’ she said.

She glanced towards the hills. Her plan relied on her leaving now. She could not hope to keep pace with Hal, and doing so would mean more chance of being seen in any case, but she knew the direction he rode in. She had watched him depart and return enough times now to be fairly sure his destination was always the same. Once he reached the furthest hill the road forked to the coast or inland towards Guisborough. As long as she saw which way Hal turned she felt sure she would find him.

She took a step past Roger. ‘I want you to go.’

‘I have to talk to you.’ Roger lunged forward and seized her by the arms. His breath was hot on her face with the trace of brandy. ‘I was watching you last night and couldn’t sleep for thinking of you.’

‘Why are you telling me this?’ Joanna asked harshly. She tried to pull away, but he would not let go.

‘I have to,’ Roger answered, gripping tighter. ‘The power you have over me is so intoxicating I lose control of myself.’

Months ago she would have given anything to hear these words. Now, coming after days of Hal’s remoteness, they seemed a mockery.

‘What is wrong with you?’ Roger asked in astonishment.

‘Everything is wrong.’ She was alarmed to feel her eyes fill with tears. She could not, would not, cry in front of Roger. She glared at him. Her legs gave way, only Roger’s tight grip preventing her from sagging to the ground as sadness enveloped her.

‘It shouldn’t be you saying that. It should be him.’

‘Do you mean Hal?’ Roger asked.

She gave a sob at his name. ‘I can’t help it. I love him.’ White-hot fire filled her chest. It was the first time she had admitted the words aloud. ‘I love him,’ she repeated quietly.

‘You can’t love him! You didn’t even want to marry him. A bastard who spends his days hefting ploughshares and horseshoes. You deserve better than that.’

Roger’s fingers crept from her arms to her waist, tightening uncomfortably on either side of her spine. He dropped his head and stared into her eyes, leaving no doubt who he thought she deserved. His eyes were as deep brown as Hal’s, but where Hal’s contained flecks of jewel green and honey, Roger’s were charred sugar and contained none of the warmth that thrilled her.

‘He doesn’t even know about your child, does he?’ Roger scoffed.

‘Take your hands off me now!’ Joanna growled.

Roger raised his hands with exaggerated care and stepped backwards.

‘You’re glorious! Why did I never see it before?’ His eyes narrowed and he smirked. ‘I should never have listened to Hal when he told me to leave you. He can be so persuasive, though.’

‘Hal told you to leave me?’ Joanna whispered in disbelief. She sagged weakly against the doorframe and stared at Roger. He had to be lying.

‘Didn’t he tell you that?’ Roger raised his eyebrows with exaggerated surprise. ‘Why do you think I broke with you? He told me that as I could not afford to keep you how you deserved I should let him take my place. That you were of more use to him than me.’

Joanna’s legs began to shake.

Roger slipped a hand behind her neck, lifting her hair, and leaned in close. He brushed her cheek with his fingertips and his lip twitched into a smile, not of fondness but of covetousness.

‘The man you think you love deceived you and he’ll keep on doing it. We both made a mistake. I should never have rejected you and you should never have accepted Hal’s hand, but we don’t have to live with that forever. I’m not going to stay in England much longer. I’m going abroad to fight, maybe for one year, possibly longer. I’ll win my fortune that way, I’m sure of it. Come with me and live under my protection. I’ll take care of you.’

‘You’re talking nonsense,’ Joanna said. ‘I am married and you will soon have a wife.’

Roger flung his arms wide in exasperation. ‘Do I have to spell it out? I’m not asking you to be my wife, I want you to be my mistress.’

Joanna stumbled back, her stomach revolting. Disgust and anger flooded her. ‘How can you suggest such a thing?’ she spat. ‘Do you take me for a whore who will run to any man who asks?’

Roger’s lip curled. ‘You were quick enough to jump into marriage—and bed—with the first man who made you an offer. Why not me again?’

Joanna flung herself at Roger with a cry of fury. ‘Quick! I didn’t want to get married, but I was given no choice!’

Roger seized her by the arms and pushed her back. She hit the stable door, jarring her neck painfully. Brushing the hair back from her face, she stared at him with hate in her eyes.

Roger moved towards her.

‘Don’t touch me!’ Her throat was too dry and her stomach twisted with sickness and hunger. ‘I wasted months when I could have been loving Hal.’

‘Don’t be a fool, Joanna. I’ll be leaving for York tomorrow. Until then you know where I am if you change your mind.’ Roger laughed softly.

Joanna spat an oath at him. She stalked towards Rowan on shaking legs and mounted, wheeling the palfrey around. She eyed Roger with contempt. ‘Whether or not Hal loves me I will never be your mistress. You sicken me!’

Her head ached with an insistent pounding in her temples and the need for a cooling breeze was impossible to ignore. She hoped she had not been delayed too long to follow Hal. If she had been in two minds whether to follow him, Roger’s revelation had decided her.

Her stomach twisted into knots as she rode further from home. The small figure in the distance turned right, heading inland. Joanna followed, increasing her speed to a canter. She gripped the reins tightly and glanced around nervously. She had ridden alone, but not so fast, and certainly not so far. She passed occasional travellers on foot or driving carts, but the road was quiet and there were few buildings that might indicate Hal’s destination.

When the road split again Hal turned further inland. Joanna paused and raised herself in the saddle. He was galloping to where a cluster of houses, barns and fields—sparsely scattered and not large enough to deserve the description of village—huddled in a shallow valley.

The road became a path, rutted and stony. As she approached the first building Joanna slowed her pace. Her skin prickled with anticipation and she bit her dry lips, wishing she had thought to bring something to drink.

Valiant, standing alone, came as a shock to her. He was tethered to a post by a low bridge, his nose deep in a bucket of oats. Joanna dismounted and patted his neck. He whinnied in greeting and allowed her to take a handful for Rowan who she tethered alongside.

Where was Hal? He had arrived long before she had and was doubtless inside one of the buildings, but which one? No door stood conveniently open. There was no smithy where he might be working. All the inhabitants were seemingly engaged in their own tasks. Joanna exhaled in frustration. She had not considered what she would do when she arrived and Hal’s whereabouts were not clear.

She left Rowan beside Valiant and walked along the road through the hamlet. Curious eyes followed her. She pulled her hood forward despite the heat. An old woman sat on a stool, legs stretched out in the heat.

Curtsying, Joanna asked, ‘Please, do you know who that horse belongs to?’

The woman grunted and fixed Joanna with shrewd blue eyes that seemed to read everything Joanna would keep hidden. Finally she cocked a thumb towards the furthest building.

It was a low cottage, set against the small stream that wound lazily through the valley. Beyond it the ever-present heather covered the hill that rose up and away. Joanna’s knees trembled as she walked towards it, steeling herself for whatever she might find within.

Her step faltered when she realised she could hear voices: one familiar and one new, and it was the new voice that reached inside her like a fist and tightened around her heart.

It was the voice of a child.

Joanna walked towards the building, concealing herself around the corner, following the voices. Her mouth dropped open at the sight of the girl as she ambled up and down the hill in front of the man following her. She was no more than three years old and with unruly black hair tumbling into her eyes there was no mistaking her parentage.