Читать книгу The Blacksmith's Wife - Elisabeth Hobbes - Страница 12

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Chapter Four

Her chin resting in her hands, Joanna stared moodily at the cup before her.

‘Drink,’ Hal instructed.

Joanna opened her mouth to refuse, but Hal’s watchful expression made her think twice. She took a small sip. As the sharp, cheap wine hit her tongue she realised how thirsty she was and how dry her throat, no doubt the result of the weeping she had done. She took a deeper swig, then another until she had all but drained the cup. She slammed it on to the table and glared at Hal defiantly.

Hal raised his cup in salute to her and drained it in one. He leaned back against the wall, his shoulders brushing hers, and stared at the cup, rubbing his finger across the rim.

‘Now can we leave?’ Joanna asked.

Hal did not appear to hear her. Joanna stared about the room. The customers were quiet, serious men dressed in rough work clothing, nothing like the company her uncle kept. It wasn’t the sort of place she imagined a nobleman’s son would choose to drink in.

Hal refilled their cups and turned his attention to the long, cloth-wrapped bundle that he had propped against the bench between them. He affixed it with such hatred that Joanna burned to know what it contained. She glanced sideways at her companion—this dark figure, so like Roger in appearance, yet so different from the carefree, easy-tongued young noble. Joanna shifted in her seat.

‘If you’re planning to keep me as hostage all evening, I’d rather know sooner than later,’ she said archly.

The anger that had not left Hal’s eyes since their unintentional meeting began to ebb and the crease between his brows smoothed. His lips flickered in what might have been amusement.

‘Hostage? You do have a knack for overstatement.’

Joanna scowled. ‘What else would you call it? I didn’t ask to accompany you. You half-dragged me through the streets, despite my protests, barely speaking to me along the way. You barricade me into the corner and now give me no indication how long you intend to keep me here!’

Hal spread his hands wide and leaned back against the wall. ‘You are free to leave whenever you like.’

Squashed into the corner by the fireplace, she had no way of leaving without crawling under the table or climbing across his lap. Her chest tightened at the idea of such closeness and she hurriedly took another drink. ‘I’ll stay...for now.’

Hal gave a brief, empty smile. ‘Good. No one should drink alone when they’re sad.’

Joanna’s eyes pricked at the reminder of how distraught she had been when they had met. She realised that her distress had vanished, replaced by anger and curiosity at Hal’s odd behaviour. Now the memory of Sir Roger’s callous words reared up once more and a lump formed in her throat. Her lip trembled and Hal’s expression became sympathetic.

‘We have established that I was not searching for you,’ Hal said, ‘but tell me why you were skulking alone in a square?’

Joanna shrugged. It was none of his business.

‘I was waiting for someone.’

Hal’s eyes lit with interest. ‘Who? Have you finished grieving for my brother so quickly?’

‘Don’t mock me! How can you suggest such a thing? Why do you seem to enjoy wounding me?’ Joanna slammed her cup on to the table, causing the men at the next table to regard them curiously. ‘I will never forget your brother. My heart is in pieces and my hopes are...my hopes...’

She broke off as the lump in her throat expanded to the size of a fist. Hal refilled their cups and held one out to her, a small gesture of apology. She took it and tossed the wine back.

‘I have no hopes,’ she muttered, self-pity enveloping her. ‘I love him and it is for nothing.’

Hal picked up his cup and took a long, slow drink. ‘I cautioned you not to approach him today but you didn’t listen to me. If things are not going his way, his temper can be short. Surely you know this about him, though?’ Hal’s lip curled into a grimace. His face was so like Sir Roger’s that it could be the knight himself mocking her.

‘My brother only comes to York twice a year for the tournaments. In three years you can only have been in his company seven or eight weeks at most,’ Hal said kindly. ‘Has he ever asked for your hand?’

Joanna’s stomach twisted. ‘Never directly. He said he had to wait until he had enough money. He’s suffered losses in other years, but now he says he can never marry me. What can have caused him to change his heart so quickly?’ she asked.

She swallowed and buried her face in her hands, while the sadness flooded over her. She turned her face miserably to the corner until she had mastered her emotions. Hal 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 Joanna stopped again. He found himself in the square where they had first met opposite the Guild Hall.

‘So you were leading me in circles,’ he said irritably. ‘Why?’

‘Because I had no wish to return home so soon,’ Joanna said. ‘I said you were in no danger of losing your way.’ She dropped his arm and stalked past the hall, rounded a corner and stopped in front of an imposing house on the end of a row.

‘You live here?’

She nodded.

‘Yet you were sitting alone in the square?’

Another nod, this time accompanied by a loud bang as she lifted the ornate iron doorknocker and released it.

‘I told you I was waiting for someone and I was.’ Her eyes were wide and innocent, but the full lips were curved once more into a smile as the door flew open and light flooded the street to reveal the figure of a man.

‘Where have you been so late?’ demanded an irate voice that was sickeningly familiar to Hal. It was the man who had sat at the Guild Master’s right hand.

‘I believe you have met,’ Joanna said sweetly. ‘This is my uncle, Master Simon Vernon.’

Hal cursed to himself as he bowed, realising now what Joanna’s half-secret smiles had meant. He turned to go but Master Vernon spoke.

‘What are you doing with my niece? Is it your doing that she’s so late back?’

‘Master Danby kindly brought me home, Uncle,’ Joanna said. ‘For which I thank him and shall say farewell.’

‘I know your face,’ Master Vernon said. It sounded like half an accusation, half a threat.

Hal bowed again. ‘I had the honour of presenting my work to you this afternoon.’

‘Honour nothing!’ Master Vernon snorted. ‘You’d better come in and explain what has happened to keep her out so late.’

Joanna stiffened. Clearly this had not been part of her scheme. Now she was in the light Hal saw her eyes were once again red rimmed. For all her bravado she had been weeping as they walked. Hal stifled his sympathy, reminding himself that Joanna had led him intentionally to meet the man he had disparaged in such strong terms.

‘Gladly, Master Vernon,’ he said, and walked inside.

‘You let me say all those things and did nothing to stop me,’ he muttered to Joanna as Master Vernon walked into the back room calling for wine.

‘Yes, though I don’t intend to share what you told me. If you had not insisted on accompanying me you would have been none the wiser.’ Joanna glanced to the door her uncle had gone through. ‘I didn’t intend you to come in, but if you think you can turn this meeting to your advantage, then do so. If not, drink your wine, go quickly and leave me in peace.’

Master Vernon returned, followed by a woman with a baby on her hip who settled herself by the fireplace. Joanna rushed to the woman, who must be her aunt, dropped to her knees and began to sob loudly while the woman patted her shoulder and made soothing sounds.

‘What is this?’ Master Vernon barked. He glared at Hal. ‘Joanna, has this man played you ill?’

Joanna winced. ‘No. Master Danby has done nothing wrong. Sir Roger told me he cannot marry me.’ She stood and wiped a hand across her face.

‘You swore he would ask,’ Simon cried.

‘Sir Roger will be back in August. He’ll ask me then, I’m sure,’ Joanna insisted. Hal frowned, hearing the desperation in her voice. What had Roger told her that she had pinned her hopes on him so deeply?

‘Now what am I to do with you?’ Simon thundered. ‘I must find you a husband myself as you seem incapable, though I doubt I’ll find anyone willing to take you off my hands if you go traipsing around the city with strangers like a common tavern wench!’

He rounded on Joanna. ‘Is it not enough that you go chasing after one man but you have to go wantonly flinging yourself into the company of another?’

Joanna paled. Her eyes lit with the fire Hal had been on the receiving end of, but surprisingly she bowed her head and folded her hands meekly.

‘I asked Mistress Sollers to accompany me. She deserves no censure,’ Hal said swiftly.

Master Vernon gave an angry snort. ‘Go to bed, Joanna. We’ll discuss this in the morning.’

Joanna curtsied to her uncle. She seemed younger and suddenly weary as she left the room with her aunt. Hal’s heart lurched and he vowed to have a forceful talk with his brother as soon as he returned to the camp.

Master Vernon seemed to notice Hal for the first time. He walked close to Hal and pursed his lips. ‘Master Danby, is it? You bear the same name as the wretch who has disappointed my silly niece. I assume it is not a coincidence that you brought her here?’

Hal took a deep breath. ‘Sir Roger is my half-brother. My father is Robert, Baron of Danby and Westerdale, who holds land from William of Pickering.’

‘A nobleman with a blacksmith for a son?’

‘My mother was not of noble birth. I followed her father’s path in life.’ Hal’s answers were clipped. Questions he’d been asked a hundred times before. Justifications he would have to make forever.

‘Do you believe your brother intends to marry my niece?’ Master Vernon demanded.

‘No,’ Hal replied honestly. ‘I have tried to tell her as much, though as she will not believe the words from his lips she is unlikely to believe them from mine.’

Master Vernon crossed the room and poured two glasses of wine. He passed one to Hal and scowled. ‘I am not an unfeeling man,’ he declared, despite all evidence indicating otherwise to Hal. ‘But I have fed and kept Joanna for a decade. I cannot afford to keep her forever. I have my own family to consider. She must find a husband soon.’

The reason for her desperation was becoming clearer now. Instead of insisting Roger did not marry Joanna, Hal should have persuaded him to commit to her. He’d caused this with his blunder.

‘Bringing Joanna safely home was a kindness. I think you have a good heart,’ Master Vernon said. ‘Better than your brother’s at least. Perhaps you are the sort of man the Guild needs—or could be in time.’

Hal smiled and drank his wine. Joanna had told him to turn events to his advantage and they seemed to be doing so of their own accord. He spoke rapidly of his ambitions, the forge at Ravenscrag, and his work for the abbey at Rievaulx and the villages on the moors. Master Vernon nodded approvingly.

‘I told you this afternoon to go back to your home and make a life for yourself,’ Master Vernon said. ‘I mentioned marriage.’

Hal’s smile froze. He had a sickening feeling he knew where Master Vernon was leading and the man’s next words confirmed his fears.

‘I have a proposal that could work to both our advantages, Master Danby. I want you to marry my niece.’

The Blacksmith's Wife

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