The Blacksmith's Wife (7 page)

His voice was so commanding that without thought Joanna obeyed. Hal’s hands began to work at the laces. He was close enough that Joanna could feel the heat of his breath on her exposed neck causing shivers to play across her skin. Soon there would be no dress in between them and Hal’s quick, dexterous fingers would be moving across her body. Her heart pounded in her breast with a violence that caused her head to spin. She reached out a hand to the table to steady herself.

Hal gave a small cry of triumph as he worked the lace free and Joanna felt the material of her bodice loosen. She took a deep breath of relief as the air filled her lungs. Hal stood back and held his hands with a flourish that reminded Joanna of a conjurer in the marketplace revealing birds from his sleeves.

With a nod of thanks Joanna turned away. She slipped out of her kirtle and dropped it to the floor. She unpinned her hair, running her fingers through it until it fell freely down her back. Clad only in her chemise, she turned back once more.

Hal had not moved. His eyes roved slowly over Joanna’s body, eyeing her with unconcealed desire. He must have been watching her all the while. Unconsciously she tightened her grip on her chemise, drawing the ribbons of the neck closer together.

Hal’s eyes followed the movement and his brows knotted into a frown.

‘I’m not going to hurt you,’ he said.

Joanna nodded. Hal reached a hand to her cheek and stroked it softly. He rested his hands on her shoulders and Joanna realised for the first time how much she was shaking. Hal took hold of both her hands, drawing them gently away from her chemise until they were by her side, still enclosed in his.

Joanna closed her eyes.

Let it be quick
, she pleaded silently.

Perhaps not silently after all, as Hal abruptly released her hands. The floorboard creaked. Joanna opened her eyes to find he had moved away. He was leaning over the table with both hands resting on it and his broad back to Joanna. She crossed the room and stood behind him.

‘I’m sorry,’ she whispered. She lifted a hand to touch his back, but stopped short and lowered it again. She stood uncertainly behind him, waiting.

Hal stood straight and ran his hands through his hair, pulling the tangled curls loose from their cord. He poured a cup of wine and drained it before facing Joanna.

‘You have nothing to apologise for.’ He filled both cups and placed one in Joanna’s hand. He saluted her with a bleak grimace. ‘Happy wedding day, my dear wife!’

Sadness crossed his face. He looked weary and remorse flashed through Joanna. The first time would be the worst but that would only happen once. She sipped her wine for courage, then placed the cup on the table and stood before Hal. With her eyes fixed on the floor she unlaced the ribbon and pulled the neck of her chemise open. Cold air hit her shoulders as she began to ease it slowly down over her body until her breasts were almost exposed.

‘What are you doing?’ Hal asked harshly. He seized Joanna’s hands, his grip firmer than before, and prevented her lowering the chemise any further. Joanna lifted her eyes to meet his. His eyes were flashing with fury.

‘I made promises to be a dutiful wife and within the day I have broken them,’ Joanna said.

‘Put your clothes back on,’ Hal instructed. Joanna opened her mouth to protest but Hal drew her chemise back up. He crossed to the bed and began to pull on his boots.

‘What are you doing?’ Joanna asked in confusion.

‘I’m going out,’ Hal said. ‘Your promises and “duty” will wait. I doubt either of us would get much pleasure out of anything we do tonight.’

He walked to the door, took down his cloak and spun it around his shoulders before opening the door. He paused, one hand on the frame. His dark eyes were unreadable.

‘Go to bed and don’t fear, Joanna. You
are
my wife and I will not wait forever, but I am not one to force myself on an unwilling woman. You can sleep safely tonight.’

He slammed the door behind him and was gone.

Chapter Seven

H
al woke up with an uncomfortable stiffness in his neck. He was slumped along the length of the settle with his cloak thrown over him in place of a blanket. He straightened his legs and groaned. He had not intended to spend his wedding night drinking alone in the corner of a gloomy tavern before stumbling back to the inn to fall asleep alone.

He opened his eyes slowly. He pushed himself to his feet, wincing at the crick in his neck—he was too tall to sleep on the bench—and stretched his arms wide. Joanna was still asleep in the bed. On soft feet he crept to her side and could not suppress the smile that came to his lips at what he saw. She lay on her side with one leg drawn up, the covers failing to hide the tantalising curves of her buttocks. One hand was tangled in the flaxen drift of hair that spread wide about her. Her face showed none of the anxiety that had twisted it the previous night when she had offered herself to him.

Hal went downstairs where the innkeeper’s wife provided him with a large bowl of hot fried chunks of bread and milk.

‘Your wife will be hungry this morning, sir,’ she said with a knowing chuckle as she slipped a slab of honeycomb into the bowl.

Hal agreed pleasantly. He watched the comb begin to melt into the bread, wondering what the woman would say if she knew he had spent his night on the cold, wooden settle rather than in the warm arms of his pretty bride.

When he returned to the room Joanna was awake and sitting up plaiting her hair. She jumped as Hal entered the room. Her eyes widened and her hands moved instinctively to draw the counterpane higher. She had completed one side before he came in and the thick braid lay neatly bound behind her ear. The other side was loose, the pale hair falling over her shoulder in a manner that made Hal long to slip his fingers through the silken mass.

‘You don’t need to do that,’ Hal said. ‘I told you last night I don’t force myself on unwilling women.’ The fact his infrequent companions were never unwilling crossed his mind.

Joanna said nothing but returned to braiding her hair. Hal put the bowl on the table, drew up a stool and watched her fingers moving swiftly and surely. He took a chunk of bread and ate it hungrily. When Joanna had finished her braid, Hal hooked his foot round the second stool and pulled it closer to the table.

‘Come join me,’ he invited.

Joanna climbed from the bed and obediently padded across the room barefoot and wearing only her chemise. Hal’s throat tightened as he stared at the contours he could see beneath the thin linen.

Joanna sat on the edge of the stool and selected the smallest piece of bread. She nibbled it slowly, keeping her eyes on Hal who munched his own with enthusiasm he didn’t feel. He pushed the bowl closer to Joanna who took another, larger chunk this time, eating it with an expression of pleasure. A small trail of honey dribbled temptingly down her slender fingers. Hal pictured himself slowly licking it away and wondered what Joanna would do. Scream or faint, in all likelihood, or worse, quietly and obediently submit to him as she had begun to do the night before. Visions of passionless nights and silent days stretching down the years ahead of them filled Hal’s mind and an overwhelming feeling of frustration enveloped him. He pushed himself from his chair abruptly.

‘What’s wrong?’ Joanna asked in alarm.

‘Everything,’ Hal admitted. ‘This marriage was a mistake. I knew it before I even spoke to your uncle but I ignored my doubts. Last night you recoiled from me with such repulsion.’

Joanna jumped to her feet and faced him, hands on hips. ‘It’s far too late for regrets now!’

‘If it was within my power to undo it I would,’ he said.

‘You would undo it? You!’ Joanna cried. ‘Unfortunately there is no way to do that.’

Her voice was high. She sounded on the verge of breaking down. Perhaps she was. Hal wouldn’t blame her.

‘You could sue for an annulment,’ Hal suggested, his stomach curling at the thought. ‘You have grounds. I refused to consummate the marriage after all.’

Joanna’s face lit briefly. Would she do it? The humiliation of all that was implied would be hard to bear, but Hal would endure it if it meant the end of this farce.

‘No,’ Joanna said bitterly. ‘What other prospects do I have? I cannot return to my uncle’s house and no one else will have me.’ Tears welled suddenly. ‘For good or ill, I am your wife.’

Hal looked away, unwilling to see her large, blue eyes full of sorrow. She took a step closer to him and Hal looked up once more. She wiped the tears away with the sleeve of her chemise. ‘I have made my vows to you and I will be a true and faithful wife.’

She reached for Hal’s hands. Her fingers were cold and he squeezed them instinctively to warm them. Joanna’s eyelids flickered. She chewed her lip then slipped her hands free and stepped so close to Hal that he could feel her full breasts pushing up against his chest through the thin chemise and his shirt. Hal pictured himself kissing them, teasing her nipples between his lips until Joanna cried out in pleasure. Excitement surged inside him.

He put his hands around Joanna’s back. She slipped hers rigidly around his neck and raised her face, once more parting her lips in the manner she had in the churchyard. Her eyes were blank and the sight of them quashed all Hal’s desire. Her arms shook and Hal’s blood chilled in his veins.

A true and faithful wife in body perhaps, but whose heart belonged to another man—what a prize that was! Roger’s words echoed treacherously in his ears.
You and I are enough alike.
She didn’t want Hal. That was clear enough. Would it be Roger she would think of when Hal finally bedded her? He’d swim the Ouse naked in front of the entire Guild of Smiths before he’d tolerate that.

He dropped his hands and stepped back. Joanna put a hand on his arm but he shrugged it off.

‘Stop that!’ he snapped, more harshly than he intended.

‘Last night you said you would not wait forever,’ Joanna said. Her voice was tight with anxiety.

‘It was a stupid thing to say,’ Hal answered. ‘Call it the voice of the wine rather than mine.’

He walked to the window and flung the small shutter open, letting grey daylight into the room, and turned back to her.

‘If I’d wanted you under any circumstance I could have taken you last night,’ he said. ‘It is my right as your husband but I chose not to. Where would the pleasure be for me in knowing you would hate every moment or be thinking of another?’

‘I wouldn’t be...’ Joanna began but Hal hushed her.

‘Yes, you would. Don’t lie. I know your heart belongs to my brother,’ Hal growled.

She had the dignity not to contradict him. There was no reason to expect her feelings to have ceased when she spoke her vows but jealousy flooded Hal’s veins. Perhaps he should tell her of his brother’s indifference to her marriage, but what purpose would that serve, other than to make her even more wretched? He wasn’t that cruel, but if he waited for her love to die of its own accord he would be old and grey.

Roger was not the only man capable of capturing a woman’s attention, though. Hal crossed the room in two strides and before she could protest he pulled Joanna to him.

‘I’m a proud man, Joanna,’ he breathed, staring at her intently. ‘I don’t want to see you quaking with terror whenever I speak to you and I certainly don’t want you forcing yourself to seduce me. I will not come to your bed until you ask me. I’m going to kiss you, though. I deserve that at least.’

She gasped in surprise and he nearly released her, but instead slipped one hand behind her neck, tilting her face to his. The other he put around her waist and held her gaze, silent and unblinking, his expression commanding her not to look away. Still watching, he bent towards her and covered her mouth with his. Joanna’s eyes widened as she pushed her lips hard against him, opening her mouth wide. It struck Hal that for all his enthusiasm, Roger had no subtlety if that was what she had come to expect. Hal drew away. He lifted a finger and placed it over her lips.

‘Wait,’ he ordered. ‘Close your eyes.’

He captured her bottom lip between his and tugged gently. Joanna gave a soft moan of surprise but he ignored her and held still, waiting for her top lip to close over his before he began to move his mouth slowly and firmly over hers. She tasted of honey and was as soft as rose petals. Hal increased the pressure of his kiss before running his tongue lightly over Joanna’s lips and parting them gently to allow him entry to her mouth. His tongue flickered briefly against hers and he felt the breath catch in Joanna’s chest. Her hands clutched his arms and Hal realised for the first time that his heart was pounding strongly. At some point he had closed his own eyes.

Enough! Before he was caught in a current from which he could not pull free.

He withdrew his tongue and took one final taste of her lips before he pulled away and examined his wife. Joanna’s eyes were closed, her lips still parted. Her cheeks were suffused with a scarlet flush that brought a smile of victory to Hal’s lips. He withdrew his hands and Joanna opened her eyes like one waking from a dream. The colour in her cheeks deepened and her eyes widened.

‘I have business to attend to this morning,’ Hal said pleasantly, as though he had done nothing more than kiss her hand. ‘I’ll leave you to dress in peace.’

He left the room quickly and walked downstairs, grinning. He would wager she had not been thinking of Roger during
that
kiss and from the look on Joanna’s face, Hal had a feeling that he would not have long to wait before he was in her bed.

* * *

Hal was as true as his word. Each night Joanna left the noisy public room of the inn and returned to their bedchamber first where she lay awake, listening for Hal’s step outside the door. He would come in—never too long afterwards—extinguish the candles and undress silently, then pause, waiting for her word. She never gave it. Hal would make his way to the settle and stretch out wrapped in his cloak and blankets until morning.

He appeared to bear Joanna no ill will for this. Why should he, when she knew he felt as little affection for her as she did for him? Less even because the tremors that had run through her at his kiss had unnerved her in a way she had not expected.

His only sign of dissatisfaction was the way he turned his neck back and forth to rid himself of cricks each morning. Every time he did, a pang of guilt stabbed Joanna. More than once it was on her lips to invite him to share the bed with her, but she swallowed back the offer, knowing that when he did come to her bed he would not be content with sleep.

* * *

On the third evening after their marriage they dined with Simon and Mary. Hal was in good humour, laughing with Simon, gracious to Mary and smiling as tenderly at Joanna as any true husband would. She doubted an outsider would suspect how little fondness he felt for her.

After the meal Hal and Simon traded stories while Joanna and Mary sat together, keeping the children from intruding as best they could. Small Betty wriggled from Joanna’s grasp and ran across the room in pursuit of one of the kittens. Hal reached out an arm and effortlessly scooped her up. He jiggled the child on his knee until Betty screeched with excitement and demanded more. Joanna walked over and held her arms out.

‘You’ll make her sick,’ she scolded.

‘Nonsense! She’s having fun,’ Hal answered. He bounced the child a couple more times to make his point before passing her back to Joanna with a grin.

‘How do you like your husband?’ Mary whispered as Joanna returned to her seat.

Mary would never ask anything in an obvious manner but from the raise of her eyebrow her meaning was clear.

Three days after his kiss Joanna’s lips remembered his touch and taste. It had been nothing like Roger’s kisses which were fierce, rough even, his passion for her too great to be easily controlled. Hal’s touch had been slow and measured, but Joanna had lost all sense of where she was or who was kissing her until he stopped so abruptly and walked from the room without a second glance at her. It had clearly meant nothing to him so how had it caused her limbs to weaken and her breath to stop in such an alarming fashion?

She should not have felt anything. Had not wanted to. She cringed whenever she thought how her body had betrayed her. Worse, her mind had betrayed her because now when she tried to bring Roger’s face to mind his features were jumbled together with Hal’s until she could not pick them apart.

Hal was gazing towards them. He could not have heard Mary’s words but Joanna smiled faintly. How could she explain that she was denying her husband that which was rightfully his and that he was content to allow it? The moment would come soon when she could no longer refuse, and she was unsure whether the thought of her body responding with such abandon scared her more than it excited her.

* * *

When Hal offered his arm as they walked home that night Joanna took it happily, still amused by the image of him surrounded by children and company. He had appeared surprisingly comfortable with Betty and she pictured him with children of his own. Her heart gave an unexpected throb as she realised they would be her children also. She should have borne children for Sir Roger. It should have been him sitting by the fire, not Hal. The unfairness of it drove a fist into her belly.

‘We’ll need to leave early tomorrow,’ Hal said.

Joanna had always known they must leave the city, but now the day was here it felt as though her heart was being cut from her body.

‘Surely there’s no need to leave straight away?’

‘I’ve completed my business here,’ Hal said, ‘and I have other commitments to attend to at home. Aren’t you curious to see your new home?’

Joanna stared at her feet. ‘I suppose so,’ she mumbled.

Hal gave her arm a comforting pat and said nothing more until he bade her goodnight with a light kiss on the back of her hand, his eyes dark and thoughtful.

* * *

Hal was already up when Joanna woke the next morning. He was naked apart from his braies. Through half-closed eyes Joanna watched him wash in the ewer of water. Even on their wedding night he had been clothed and what Joanna saw aroused her curiosity. His back was broad and his arms firm, each muscle clearly defined by the light that filtered through the shutters. Why this surprised Joanna she couldn’t say. He was a blacksmith after all and a man did not spend all day in such a job without some effect but Hal could have been cast from the very iron he worked with.