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Authors: Elisabeth Hobbes

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A shadow crossed Hal’s face and his mouth turned down. ‘Thank you for your frankness, Mistress Danby,’ he said coolly. ‘The terms are acceptable to me.’

Joanna shot him an angry glare. She spun on her heel and pulled herself into the cart. She stared down at him, her face impassive. ‘Hadn’t we better be going if we want to reach your home before nightfall?’

Hal climbed beside her. ‘We aren’t going straight home. Didn’t I tell you? We’re going to my father’s house.’ He cracked the reins and gave her a twisted smile. ‘He’s waiting to meet my wife!’

* * *

Despite the harsh words Joanna had flung at him, Hal had seemed determined to forget they had even quarrelled. He talked of pleasantries, of his house and forge and the people she would meet in Ravenscrag. He was an amusing storyteller and the journey passed quickly, but he told her nothing about what she should expect in Wharram Danby. Perhaps he thought she had already been told everything there was to know, but in reality Roger had barely spoken of his home.

It should have been Sir Roger who brought her here, not Hal, Joanna thought with a stab of regret. He should have been beside her as they drove down the main road of Wharram Danby, alongside the millpond and past the longhouses and cottages. Villagers were returning from the fields and paused as they passed. Some called warmly to Hal and he greeted them by name, earning smiles and waves. He was clearly popular among his father’s tenants. Many of them stared openly at Joanna. She resisted the urge to bury her face deeper in her hood and forced her lips into a smile.

The stone walls of Wharram Manor glowed pink in the sunset. Joanna was captivated by the long, low house at first sight but it should have been Roger’s arm she linked hers through as they walked through the large oak doors as wife of the future owner. She pushed the feeling of regret deep into her heart, chiding herself for her disloyalty to Hal once more.

Her stomach growled from a mixture of hunger and nervousness as they entered the Great Hall.

Hal grinned. ‘We’ll eat soon enough,’ he said. ‘My father keeps a good table.’

She flashed a look of fury at him. Eating was the last thing on her mind.

A tall, thickset woman waited alone in the middle of the Great Hall. Hal knelt and took hold of her hand, pressing it briefly against his lips.

‘Lady Danby, I am at your service,’ he said.

A ripple of shock ran through Joanna. This was Roger’s mother. She dropped into a deep curtsy, her legs shaking.

Lady Danby looked down her nose at the couple before her. Her hazel eyes regarded Joanna as if she had thrown a fistful of rats on to the table, but when they turned to Hal they flashed with very real disdain. Joanna tried to imagine Lady Danby greeting her more warmly as Roger’s wife, but could not summon the vision of her smiling at anyone.

‘Is that Hal?’ a deep voice called from the end of the room.

Hal’s face broke into a smile of joy. A tall figure stood in front of the fire, facing into the flames. He turned as he heard their footsteps. The man’s right eye was fused shut, criss-crossed with deep scars and the pupil of the left was milky. Joanna’s mouth dropped open and her fingers tightened on Hal’s arm. He glanced down at her and raised an eyebrow.

‘Did you not expect this?’ he whispered in surprise. ‘Has my brother not told you of our father’s condition?’

Joanna shook her head, embarrassed at being caught unawares. It seemed there was much Roger had not told her and she felt an unfamiliar rush of resentment towards him. If he had not told her something as important as this, what else had he failed to share with her and had he ever truly intended to share anything at all?

Chapter Ten

H
al left Joanna’s side and strode to the fireplace. He drew his father into a warm embrace. The older man patted his son on the back with his left hand. His right arm hung limply at his side, his hand concealed by a glove. Joanna burned with curiosity to know how this affliction had come about.

Beside Joanna Lady Danby stood straight, her shoulders back and her eyes narrowed. Once again Joanna got the sense that she had no liking for Hal. It was understandable of course. What woman would be happy seeing her husband’s illegitimate offspring received with such affection?

‘Did you bring your wife inside or have you left her with the cart?’ Hal’s father asked. ‘Let me see her.’

Hal beckoned Joanna forward. She studied the man as she walked slowly towards him. There was no mistaking that this man was Roger and Hal’s father. Despite his disfigurement and the additional years he bore, he was as handsome as his sons. He was as broad and tall as both of them and shared their dark curls, which on him were beginning to be tinged with grey. The similarity between the men was so strong that Joanna could not for the life of her decide which part of their mothers each son had inherited.

‘My wife, Joanna,’ Hal said. ‘My father, Lord Danby.’

Lord Danby reached a hand forward and felt towards Joanna. She held her hand out and he grasped it tightly.

‘Welcome to my house,’ he said, his voice booming.

‘Thank you, my lord,’ she replied, sinking into a curtsy.

‘No, no. Get up!’ he instructed. ‘I want to look at you properly and see what my son has won himself.’

Was he feeble minded? With only one milky eye how did he intend to do that? Joanna stood upright once more.

‘Stand over by the large window,’ Lord Danby instructed. ‘Take me there.’ He felt his hand along Joanna’s arm and looped his through hers. Joanna guided Lord Danby to the centre of the room and paused in front of the arched window. Lord Danby let go of her arm.

‘Stand in the light if you please.’

Joanna straightened her back, smoothed her hair and walked to where Lord Danby indicated. The sun was low, but streamed through the oiled linen that covered the window. It warmed Joanna’s back and cast her shadow on the rush floor, throwing it out of shape.

‘You’re thinking I can’t see you, aren’t you, girl?’ Lord Danby laughed good-naturedly. ‘You’re right in some ways. Faces I can’t do well, but gestures I can see and I can make out forms well enough. In the dark we’re all equally sightless and a shapely figure is all that counts at the end of the day, isn’t it, Hal!’

Joanna glanced at Hal uncertainly. He stood beside his father, arms folded, watching her closely.

‘Not all,’ he said gravely.

His eyes flashed as they met Joanna’s. A flurry of excitement took her by surprise as she recognised his desire. She remembered his declaration of wanting a wife who cared for him and sorrow gripped her that she was not that woman. She fixed her eyes on the floor.

‘Father, if you’ve finished inspecting my wife we’d be thankful for something to eat and drink. Joanna is unused to travelling so far and much less used to being examined like a horse in the marketplace.’

Hal walked to her side and held his arm out. ‘You must ignore my father’s peculiarities,’ he told her, loudly enough for Lord Danby to hear but with humour in his voice. ‘He thinks that his condition gives him licence to behave as he chooses.’

Lord Danby laughed. ‘Hal is right. I expect everyone to indulge me. I crave your pardon, my dear.’

He was like his sons in so many ways, yet when his face broke into a smile, Joanna saw he was completely unlike them. He had given them the shape of their jaws and lips, however his smile exhibited none of Roger’s shameless grin that suggested he was planning to undress her where she stood, nor the caution that played about Hal’s lips when he seemed uncertain of her response. His eyes bore lines in the corners at the same spot where Hal’s creased with humour.

Joanna found herself liking him a great deal.

‘No pardon needed,’ she said, placing her hand in his.

He lifted it to his lips, then clapped his hand on Hal’s shoulder. ‘Well chosen, lad,’ he murmured.

Hal’s eyes met Joanna’s once more, his approval clear. They creased at the corners and a warm glow spread inside her. If it had been a test, she had passed. She found suddenly that Hal’s esteem mattered a great deal more than she had expected it to.

Lady Danby clapped her hands sharply and a waiting servant sprang to attention. Lady Danby’s face was taut as she issued orders for food and drink, then she swept to the fireplace, seated herself on a high-backed chair and turned her attention to the tapestry she was working on.

Lord Danby seemingly did not notice his wife’s temperament. He began to talk to Hal in a loud voice about matters relating to the running of the manor and lands which were still recovering from the blow caused by the Great Pestilence. Arm in arm the two men left the hall. Joanna wavered, torn between joining Lady Danby and admitting her acquaintance with Roger and following her husband. In the end Lady Danby’s face was so stern and unwelcoming that Joanna picked up her skirts and hurried after the men.

Hal looked surprised but not displeased to see her. He held his free arm out and the three companions walked across the moor where great grey-coated sheep stared at them with baleful expressions, bleating rudely. Over the next hour Joanna learned more than she ever wanted to discover about the afflictions that plagued the wild-eyed beasts—along with facts about their mating that made her cheeks burn with mortification and looking at her husband excruciating.

* * *

Dinner was mutton stew, rich with red wine and rosemary, onions and parsnips. More wine accompanied it and Joanna ate eagerly, unable to remember a better meal. The fire was well stoked and a dozen candles burned on the table in holders of twisted iron that Lord Danby told her with amusement were Hal’s early attempts at the craft.

‘You’ll have to produce something more inspiring if you want to enter the guild,’ Lord Danby said.

Joanna shot a glance at her husband who, surprisingly, grinned. ‘They’re crude, I know. I’ve improved since and I have no fears I will gain my admittance before the year is up.’

For one horrible moment Joanna feared he was about to reveal the conditions of their marriage. She was not sure she could bear that humiliation.

Lord Danby clapped his son on the shoulder. ‘I hope so, lad. You’ve got a wife to support now. You’ll need more than the income that crafting farm tools brings. You’ll see he doesn’t slack, won’t you, Joanna?’

Joanna inclined her head rather than answer. Her finger traced a pattern across the table where a trace of wine had spilled, the arms of her candelabra more symmetrical than Hal’s design. She realised Lady Danby was watching and wiped her hand through it with a demure smile.

Lady Danby’s temper had improved. She guided her husband’s hand to his knife or cup when he fumbled for it, waving away the pageboy who stood ready to provide assistance. Clearly Lord Danby was not entirely resigned to his lack of ability because he gave small sighs of frustration, though Joanna noticed he squeezed her fingers affectionately when they touched and allowed her to aid him.

Hal caught Joanna staring and leaned closer to her to speak in an undertone. ‘My father was injured four years ago.’

‘My hearing was unaffected however,’ Lord Danby said loudly. ‘If Joanna wants to hear the tale I’ll tell her myself.’

Hal sat back in his chair and smiled at Joanna. He cocked one leg over the other, resting his ankle on his opposite knee and rolled his cup between his hands. She had never seen him at such ease and she returned his smile warmly.

‘I was tilting,’ Lord Danby told her. ‘I have another son as Hal may have told you...’

Joanna opened her mouth to say she knew this already but Hal caught her eye and she closed it.

‘Roger wanted to train, but Hal had begun his time as a journeyman and gone west. Roger’s lance was not tipped and it struck me full in the face. It splintered into my eye. I fell and the horse crushed my arm. It was the last time I tilted. I wouldn’t let them take the arm though!’ he said proudly.

‘It was not our son’s fault!’ Lady Danby’s voice was mild yet reproachful.

‘I have never blamed Roger, as well you know,’ Lord Danby said, patting her arm. ‘I merely say he might have taken more care knowing it was a practice, not a tournament, but it is always his way to be rash. He forgot he was competing against an old man instead of his equal.’

‘He was young!’ Lady Danby insisted. ‘And as for equal...’

Hal leaned forward abruptly. ‘More wine, my lady?’ He reached across and filled Lady Danby’s cup. She eyed him with resentment.

‘If you had accepted your role as his squire it would have been you Roger rode against.’

A chill crept over Joanna at the idea of Hal blinded and maimed. Instinctively she reached for his hand and felt his fingers close around hers.

‘If I had accepted my role I would still have bested Roger in every bout,’ Hal muttered, sitting back in his seat.

‘Enough!’ Lord Danby spoke quietly but his voice carried more authority than if he had shouted. ‘These are old grievances and we have a guest.’

He turned his sightless eyes towards Joanna. ‘Tell me about yourself. Who is your family? I’m a little surprised at the speed this has taken, though it is not unwelcome.’ He turned to his wife with a wicked grin. ‘At least one of my sons shows signs of giving me a grandchild!’

‘Though not an heir,’ Lady Danby replied, glancing at Hal who looked at his hands.

Joanna’s stomach twisted. Surely that had been Roger’s intention too.

‘My name was Joanna Sollers,’ she said to fill the awkward silence that ensued.

She searched for a glimmer of recognition in the faces of Roger’s parents, some sign that Roger had spoken of her. There was none. A lump formed in her throat.

‘My uncle is Simon Vernon,’ she continued. ‘Of the Guild of Associated Smiths in York.’

‘Ah, that explains it,’ Sir Roger said. ‘Hal so rarely tears himself from his work that how else would you have met other than through the guild?’

The familiar prickle of tears stung Joanna’s eyelids. Roger had told his parents nothing of her, just as he had told her nothing of them. His life was split into two parts that never met. Maybe they were never intended to.

Hal filled her cup and placed it within her reach. She took it and raised it to her lips that were suddenly twitching. She looked his way to thank him and stopped short as she saw the pity that filled his eyes as he looked at her.

‘An unexpectedly advantageous match for one in your position, Henry!’ Lady Danby said with a cold smile, glancing from Joanna to Hal. ‘How fortunate you were to win the heart of such a well-connected woman.’

Joanna gaped at the rudeness.

‘Indeed so,’ Hal answered, his lip curling into a smile.

‘Mistress Danby, you’ve gone pale,’ Lady Danby said, throwing an accusing look at Hal as though it was his fault. ‘Are you ill?’

‘I am very weary,’ Joanna said. She realised it was true. She felt unaccountably heavy and her eyes wanted to close of their own accord.

‘We’ve travelled from Malton where we stopped last night,’ Hal explained, squeezing her hand gently.

Lady Danby lifted her chin. ‘Now you have succeeded in finding a wife I would expect you to have had more regard for her safety even if you disregard her comfort. You should have carried on to Pickering or the abbey at Rievaulx.’

‘Hal is perfectly able to protect me,’ Joanna cried. ‘He saved my life last night.’ She put her hand to her mouth in surprise at her forwardness. Where had that burst from? She blushed as all eyes turned on her and haltingly recounted the previous night’s events.

Lady Danby’s expression suggested she only saw this as further evidence of Hal’s thoughtless behaviour, but Lord Danby smiled in approval. He congratulated Hal on his skill and dismissed them with a wave of his good arm.

They climbed the stairs to the bedchamber in silence but once there Hal caught Joanna by the arm. He waited until she lifted her eyes to look into his face.

‘There was no need to defend me to Lady Danby,’ he said sternly. His face softened and he dropped a kiss unexpectedly on to her forehead. ‘I thank you all the same.’

‘She dislikes you so much,’ Joanna said indignantly.

Hal shrugged dismissively. ‘Would you expect otherwise? The first accord she and I ever reached was that I should leave her household as soon as I was able.’

‘But to be so openly rude!’

‘I’ve learned to tolerate it and my father indulges her as he has always indulged everyone he loves.’

He stripped to his undershirt and braies and climbed into the bed. He bent one knee up, threw an arm out across the pillow and regarded Joanna with serious eyes. She hesitated, but remembered the unexpected contentment of waking in Hal’s arms. Perhaps in his father’s house he would not expect to bed her. She unwound her hair and stripped to her shift, conscious of Hal’s eyes following her movements, and blew out the candle. She lay alongside him, resting the back of her neck against his outstretched arm and drew the blanket over them both.

The wind whistled around the end gable of the building. The sound was eerie after the noise of the inn and the familiar cries that echoed late into the York night. In the stillness she shivered. Hal rolled on to his side, wrapping his arm firmly around Joanna.

‘Are you cold?’ he asked.

The closeness was comforting after a day that had been so exhausting from travelling and she nestled her head into the crook of his arm.

‘Not now,’ she answered softly. She lay in the darkness, waiting for Hal’s hands to begin working their way across her body as they had done that morning, but he made no move. Perhaps he was as tired as she was and only intended to sleep. She wondered whether he expected her to begin by touching him and how she would go about such a thing.

Her worry was ended by Hal speaking.

‘My father’s wife was not of his choosing. He loved my mother, but she was the daughter of a blacksmith in Pickering. He could never wed her, but he needed an heir so married Anne Sedbergh, the daughter of a knight from Guisborough.’

BOOK: The Blacksmith's Wife
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