The Blacksmith's Wife by Elisabeth Hobbes Read Free Book Online

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.