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Authors: Elisabeth Hobbes

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BOOK: The Blacksmith's Wife
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‘Whoever shoed Roger’s horse didn’t know what they were doing, it’s amazing he didn’t break his neck between Lincoln and Wharram Danby,’ Hal said.

Joanna kept her voice even and her eyes on her sewing. The needle flicking in and out rapidly, the line perfectly straight and even; a mockery of her stomach, which from the way she felt must have been knotting and coiling as she sat there. Hal stopped in front of her. She lifted her eyes to meet his face. His expression was hard, more reminiscent of the surly man she had first known than the loving husband she had grown used to.

‘We’ve been invited to dine at Wharram before Roger leaves for the Lammas tournament.’ The tone of his voice made the hairs on Joanna’s neck lift.

‘That will be...nice,’ she said uncertainly. A knife twisted in her already churning belly. Dining with Lord Danby alone would be a pleasure, but to have to sit alongside Lady Danby and Roger was more than she could bear the thought of.

Hal narrowed his eyes before continuing. ‘We can ride over. I think you’ll be capable of a journey that far by then. We’ll have to practise, of course. Not tomorrow, I have to finish casting Beckett’s axe head and there is an appointment I need to keep. In fact, there is something I want to discuss with you; a matter I’ve been meaning to raise.’

His words washed over Joanna. Her mind kept returning to what was to come. She would have to endure the visit for Hal’s sake. He would expect courtesy towards his family. She nodded distractedly in agreement, barely hearing what Hal was saying. He broke off abruptly and she glanced up in puzzlement.

‘Of course, if you have other things to think about I shall leave you to your dressmaking,’ he said, his voice bitter.

‘I’m sorry, my mind was elsewhere,’ Joanna said. ‘Please tell me what you were saying.’

Hal frowned. ‘I think not,’ he said gruffly, crossing his arms. ‘It can wait whereas my work cannot. I shall leave you to your thoughts.’

He swept out of the room, banging the door behind him. Joanna had jumped to her feet, but sagged down on to the stool again as she heard the door outside slam. She frowned in bewilderment. He’d only been talking about his work, hadn’t he? She stiffened in shock as some of his words finally penetrated. He’d been starting to tell her something important and she’d ignored him, lost in thoughts of...

She moaned softly to herself, wincing at her inattentiveness.

She picked up her needle and thread and began to work again. The day had started so well and since Roger’s appearance everything had soured. She wished fervently that the next two weeks would pass quickly and Roger would be gone soon after.

* * *

Hal left early as usual the following morning on his private business. He had not spoken of it again and indeed had rebuffed any attempt Joanna had made to broach the subject the previous night. Nor would he discuss his plans for the guild’s prize. Clearly he was not intending to discuss either matter with her.

She watched him leave, then dressed slowly and made herself a cup of warm honeyed wine to drink. The sickness she had felt the previous day had not diminished in the night, another matter to cause her apprehension. She sat at the table, chin in her arms, staring glumly at the wall.

The source of Hal’s mood was clear and resentment welled up. She had given him no grounds to suspect her of any wrongdoing, or even wrong thoughts, yet he looked at her as if she had been the one to invite Roger in the first place. When he returned tonight she would sit him down and tell him as much.

She cleared her cup away, swept the floor and began to brush the cobwebs from the corners of the roof, taking her irritation out on the dust and spiders when there was a knock on the door. Wiping her hands on her apron, she crossed the room and opened the door. She stared at the visitor in dismay.

It was Roger.

Chapter Nineteen

‘H
al isn’t here.’ Joanna’s fingers tightened on the doorframe. Her stomach gave a lurch and sweat rolled up her back.

Roger smiled. He still wore his charm as easily as he would a cloak, though he did not look as he did in her memory. His eyes were redder and his face seemed fatter beneath the closely trimmed beard. When once she would have vowed he was the better-looking brother, the balance was firmly tipped in Hal’s favour. The unpleasant glint in his eye was something she had forgotten completely.

‘Has he gone far? When will he return?’

Joanna frowned. ‘I’m not sure. He’s usually gone for most of the day.’

‘You don’t know where he’s gone, do you?’ Roger mused.

‘No,’ Joanna admitted. She regarded him suspiciously. ‘Do you?’

Roger shrugged. ‘My brother’s affairs are his own business, not mine. How strange of him not to tell you, but he always was secretive.’

Joanna narrowed her eyes at the inflection he placed on the word
affair
. ‘Would you like to leave a message?’

Roger pushed the door wider and slipped inside. He pulled a stool from the table and stretched out his legs. Perhaps by design, perhaps unintentionally, he barred the doorway. He grinned up at Joanna, revealing his teeth. The hairs on the back of Joanna’s neck began to prickle. Why hadn’t she said Hal would return at any minute?

‘It’s been a long time since we were alone, Joanna. It’s good to have a chance to talk.’

Joanna folded her arms across her belly. ‘We have nothing to talk about.’

Roger pouted. ‘Don’t be so unfriendly. I’ve ridden a long way. At the very least you could give me something to drink.’

Joanna’s hand trembled as she poured the ale. She held the drink out at arm’s length. Roger took it from her and with his other hand seized her wrist.

‘Come join me,’ he laughed.

‘Let go!’ Joanna cried, pulling away.

‘I just want to talk to you,’ Roger said. He stood and tightened his grip on Joanna’s wrist, twisting until she had no option but to come within his reach or risk dislocating her hand. ‘Now, that’s better, isn’t it?’

‘You’re hurting me!’ she gasped.

Roger eased his hands to her upper arms, his fingers digging into the flesh just enough to hint at the pain he could inflict if she displeased him.

‘I didn’t mean to hurt you, but you wouldn’t keep still,’ Roger soothed, stroking her hair.

Joanna remembered the kisses he had demanded from her, the caresses always bordering on pain. Hal’s had never hurt her, not even when his touch had been something she yielded submissively to rather than craved.

‘Why did you come here?’ Joanna asked. She felt something pressing against her skirts and looked down to see Simon the dog standing close. The scruffy mongrel bared his teeth at Roger.

‘Because I wanted to see you again.’ Roger looked down at her, leering openly. ‘Why don’t you give me a kiss?’ Roger cajoled. ‘Like the friends we used to be? I’d like that. I’m sure you would, too.’

‘No, I wouldn’t!’ The nausea in Joanna’s belly began to worsen. ‘I think you should leave now,’ she said firmly. ‘I’ll tell Hal you came.’

‘Are you sure?’ Roger smiled.

He reached forward and brushed the hair from Joanna’s cheek, then rubbed his thumb over it. It was a gesture he had done so many times affectionately, but now Joanna recoiled from his touch. He lunged forward suddenly, locking her within his arms. Before she could protest he was kissing her, his lips forcing hers apart, tongue smothering hers. It was over before she could make a sound but not before she recognised the quickening of her pulse. Roger leaned back with a charming smile.

‘What exactly will you tell Hal?’ His smile slid into a smirk. ‘He knows you love me. He’d believe you were all too willing to fall into my arms.’

‘No, he wouldn’t,’ Joanna insisted. She could hear the uncertainty in her voice and hoped Roger couldn’t.

Her stomach clenched and cold sweat washed over her. She wrenched herself free and ran outside where she dropped to her knees. She dug her hands in the grass and her stomach emptied itself violently. She looked up to find Roger staring at her, his eyes filled with concern—the first time she had seen such an emotion.

‘I didn’t mean to upset you so much, I was jesting,’ he blustered.

‘Just leave me alone.’ Joanna wiped a hand across her mouth. She struggled to her feet and turned away so Roger could not see her expression.

‘Why were you sick?’ Roger demanded, his eyes narrowing.

The creeping suspicion she had been nursing for days rushed to the front of her mind and she moaned softly. Roger pulled her round to face him.

‘Tell me, are you with child?’ His voice was accusatory.

‘I don’t know. Perhaps.’

Roger growled and kicked the wall. Joanna flinched.

‘I hate the thought of another man taking you. Does my brother know?’

‘I haven’t told anyone. It’s too early to be sure.’

‘You’re wise to wait before telling Hal. He will need all his time to think about his work, not the worry of a child.’

Joanna nodded. Hal had never talked of children other than when he had said they could be prevented and when they made love he took great pains to pull back before he spent himself. Her cheeks flamed as she remembered the hot, fierce night of lovemaking in the forge and how she had refused to let him free. This was her fault. Nothing must distract him from what he had to do, even if it seemed she was not to be included in his plans. She stifled a sob at the thought of him working without her.

Roger held his arms out wide to encompass their surroundings, curling his lip. ‘Oh, Joanna, this is what you’ve been brought to? You look so pale and tired. I wish I could ease your burden.’

‘My burdens are your doing,’ Joanna said through clenched teeth.

Roger tossed his hair back and shot her another look of pity. He tucked a stray hair behind Joanna’s ear, his fingers lingering on her cheek.

‘You can’t be happy with a man who leaves you alone all day long. Who doesn’t care enough even to tell you where he goes’

Joanna raised her chin. ‘I’m happy with my husband, and if where he goes is important he’ll tell me,’ she said. ‘Now go.’

‘I’ll see you again soon,’ Roger said. He bowed and walked away.

Joanna sat doing nothing for a very long time. Simon whined softly and pushed his muzzle into her hands. She scratched his head and closed her eyes wearily. Roger’s words came back to her and she hugged her knees as misery overwhelmed her.

He’d said Hal didn’t care for her, but he must have been mistaken. He was a good man and she cared more deeply for him than she had ever expected to. The weeks since May Day had been the happiest she’d known, but was that simply because Hal had realised her worth as an instrument to achieving his ambition? Once he achieved that would his affection diminish or would the possible child she carried be enough to secure it?

* * *

When Hal returned she greeted him as usual but the memory of Roger’s hands on her made her wince as he bent to kiss her. She involuntarily stiffened and hurt flashed in Hal’s eyes. She reached a hand out hesitantly, but withdrew it before she had touched him.

‘Have you been busy today?’ Hal asked.

Joanna hesitated, then shook her head slowly. ‘Not really.’

Hal turned to hang his cloak on the peg. ‘Meg is going to need some help in the house now she’s carrying a child,’ he said, his voice unnaturally light. ‘It would be kind if you would help her in the house for the time being.’

‘Won’t you want me to assist you with your work for the tournament?’ Joanna asked.

Hal moved to the table and cut a slice of bread. ‘I think I’ll be able to manage. Meg’s need is greater,’ he said.

Joanna lowered her head so Hal wouldn’t see the tears that sprang to her eyes. This was what she had feared after his reluctance to discuss his intention yesterday.

‘Of course. That sounds the best thing to do,’ she lied.

Roger had guessed correctly, she would not tell Hal of his visit. Why would Hal ever believe she had not encouraged him? If there had been any lingering desire for Roger it had died the moment he kissed her. Her eyes pricked at the thought of him touching her, his lips on hers with bruising force, and of what else he might have done.

From then on it was little wonder the sickness in her belly was a constant presence, just as Roger’s words remained seared into her mind.

* * *

Hal watched from the doorway as Joanna slipped her new gown over her head, her body moving sinuously as she eased the heavy folds of cloth downwards. She smoothed the skirt and sighed heavily.

‘What’s wrong?’ Hal asked.

‘The fit isn’t right, it’s too tight,’ Joanna replied. She pulled at the neckline where Hal could see it dug into the top of her breasts, full and creamy and temptingly kissable.

‘You must have cut the cloth wrong after measuring it,’ Hal said.

Joanna stared at her hands. ‘I suppose I must have,’ she said quietly. She loosened the laces and wriggled to ease the gown.

Hal frowned. Once he would have offered to assist her, after taking the opportunity to ease her out of the dress first, but as the day of the visit to Wharram had grown closer Joanna had become more withdrawn.

They still made love at night but Joanna’s reluctance was clear. When her lips touched his bare flesh or her fingers began to stroke his body Hal was able to forget his anxiety, but afterwards the suspicions he had harboured early in their marriage returned to haunt his nights. Roger’s name stood between them like a wall and each day they did not speak it another stone was added.

‘I have to go away again tomorrow,’ he said, watching carefully for any reaction.

He still had not told her where he went. She had shown no interest in where he had been when he had returned the last time. He had come so close to telling her, but had missed his opportunity. Since Roger’s arrival he was not prepared to risk the recriminations that would surely follow. Once he came back from York he vowed they would discuss it.

Joanna nodded absently and carried on adjusting her bodice. Her eyes were shadowed with purple, hinting that her sleep must also be suffering, and the pinched expression she wore more frequently tugged at Hal’s heart.

‘I won’t be back late. I’ll need to prepare to leave for York.’

Joanna was staring intently at something in front of her. She picked up her marriage brooch from the clutter of pins and scarves and ran a finger over the crude curls of metal as she pinned it to her bodice. Hal’s fingers itched to slip his hands around her waist and help her fix it, but he resisted the urge. He’d make her another, finer brooch once he returned from the guild. Even more than presenting his work he was looking forward to Joanna working beside him once more. If she still wanted to, of course. If she still wanted him.

He could not bear to lose her.

He came up behind her. She glanced over her shoulder at him with a smile before returning her attention to the small mirror.

‘You’re beautiful,’ he said, impulsively putting his arms around her and leaning his cheek against her mass of hair.

Joanna stiffened. Perhaps he had merely surprised her, but to feel her recoil was a punch to the guts. The muscles in Hal’s arms tightened in response and he moved away to dress himself. When he felt able to trust himself he turned back to her, face as calm as he could manage.

‘Come on, let’s get this over with.’

He tried to blot out Joanna’s cheeks turning pale, the sight of which threatened to unman him.

* * *

By the time they arrived at Wharram Manor Joanna’s face was grey and drawn. The knowing look Roger gave Hal, one eyebrow raised behind Joanna’s back as she passed, was enough to start Hal’s fists clenching in annoyance.

‘Allow me to escort you inside,’ Roger said smoothly.

Joanna smiled graciously. ‘Of course.’

Hal suppressed the stab of jealousy that speared his heart as Joanna slipped her arm into Roger’s. He fell beside Lady Danby, holding his arm out for her to take.

The meal was one of the most uncomfortable Hal could remember. Fortunately no one else seemed aware of his mood. Roger dominated the room, talking loudly of his successes in the tournaments he had managed to attend before his misfortune—a detail that took far less prominence than he had recounted to Hal.

Joanna ate sparingly and sat quietly, pushing her food around the plate. Lord Danby talked loudly and in intimate detail of his efforts at breeding sheep, causing the first bloom of colour in Joanna’s cheeks Hal had seen for days as she hid a smile.

‘When Roger brings his bride here I hope you will refrain from such topics,’ Lady Danby said sharply.

‘It’s a little premature to be thinking of bringing her here.’ Roger smiled.

‘You met with success with Sir Robin’s daughter?’ Hal narrowed his eyes at his brother.

‘A date is not yet settled, though her father is keen we don’t leave it too long,’ Roger replied.

There was a clatter as Joanna placed her knife on the table. Hal shot her a sideways glance, but her eyes were fixed intently on her plate. The information was clearly a surprise and from the way her lip trembled slightly Hal took it that it was unwelcome. Further proof, he thought grimly, that she still harboured feelings for him.

‘You look ill, Mistress Danby. Are you finding life on the moors arduous?’ Lady Danby asked as she gestured for the serving girl to refill Joanna’s cup.

Something of the defiant Joanna Hal had grown to love flashed in her eyes as she replied.

‘Not at all, though we have both been busy. That is to be expected, of course, when Hal has been working so hard on his work for the guild.’

‘How fortunate he has a wife who can aid him so ably.’ Lady Danby smiled insincerely at Hal.

Joanna dropped her eyes. ‘How indeed,’ she murmured.

Her unspoken reproach tore into Hal. She had readily accepted his suggestion of helping Meg and he had been able to work on his sword, for which he was grateful, but he missed her company in the forge. Tomorrow night he would take her there and reveal his surprise.

BOOK: The Blacksmith's Wife
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