The Blacksmith's Wife Read Online Free

in the same way as his brother, but the expression in his eyes was sharper, reminding her of a fox watching its prey.
    ‘No, he doesn’t,’ he admitted finally with a shrug.
    ‘Thank you,’ Joanna breathed. She took a mouthful of the warm wine, the sharpness burning her throat. ‘I am in your debt.’
    Henry extended his arm towards her. ‘I will relieve you of your obligation if you dance with me now.’
    Joanna’s eyes slid to the centre of the room where Sir Roger still danced with the dark-haired woman. Surely he would finish soon and seek her out. He could not have forgotten she would be there.
    Hal’s eyes followed hers. ‘Do you fear his disapproval so much that you will not dance with me?’
    ‘Of course not!’ Joanna said. ‘I just don’t want to dance yet.’
    He snorted. ‘I don’t believe you. You were jigging up and down like a fiddle player on a carthorse.’
    The image was so comical that despite herself Joanna smiled.
    ‘I have my reputation to think of.’
    Henry raised his goblet to her once more, a gleam in his eye. ‘You would risk your reputation to visit my brother alone but will not chance a dance in public?’ His eyes blazed. ‘A dance means nothing. If anything it will protect your reputation: to refuse other offers and dance with him alone would invite talk, wouldn’t it? Even my brother could not censure you for that.’ He held his arm out again but when Joanna shook her head he did not press the point.
    The music came to an end. Joanna attempted to catch Sir Roger’s eye, but to her dismay Sir Bartholomew presented another young lady who curtsied demurely and they returned to the dance immediately. Joanna’s mouth twisted downwards and she gave a small sigh of disappointment.
    Henry was watching her closely, an odd mix of pity and scorn on his face. Joanna dropped her head, the expression in his eyes searing her heart.
    ‘What did you expect to happen?’ he asked archly. ‘This evening is to honour the knights. You aren’t the only woman to have her heart turned by the glamour of the pageant, or intending to catch a husband.’
    ‘My head hasn’t been turned by glamour!’ Joanna snapped. ‘That isn’t why I love him.’
    Henry smirked disbelievingly. ‘Do you mean you would marry my brother if he was penniless and not a knight?’
    Joanna gazed at Sir Roger, trying to imagine him as anything other than himself but could not picture him without his armour or velvet robes.
    As she watched Roger laughed enthusiastically at something his partner whispered. He led her off the floor in the opposite direction with the vitality he displayed at the tilt. Joanna’s eyes began to burn. No other man of her acquaintance, few as they were, made her heart turn over with a single glance.
    ‘I would love him whatever he was,’ she insisted.
    ‘You hesitated though,’ Henry said, raising an eyebrow. ‘Now, are you content to wait all night for Roger to notice you or will you dance with me?’
    Joanna tossed her head. ‘I’d rather stand here alone than dance with you. You’ve mocked me and been nothing but rude to me since you joined me. I know why too. I think you’re jealous because you are not a knight yourself.’
    She made to turn away but caught the expression on Henry’s face and paused. His eyes were blazing and his jaw thrust forward angrily. When he spoke next his voice was clipped.
    ‘As it happens you’re wrong. I made my peace with my fate long ago.’
    He began to walk away. Shame flooded Joanna. He was a bastard. Of course he could never hope to be a knight.
    ‘Master Danby,’ she called. ‘Wait!’
    He paused. Suspicion flickered across his face though it softened as he returned to her, never letting his eyes slip from hers. Her heart beat oddly in her throat.
    ‘Call me Hal,’ he said shortly.
    ‘I didn’t mean to offend you,’ Joanna said, twisting her hands in embarrassment. ‘It must be hard knowing you cannot be what your brother