Free The Blacksmith's Wife by Elisabeth Hobbes Page A

voice, made and received promises. They must have exchanged rings—the plain narrow band that felt as heavy as a manacle on her finger was evidence of that. Throughout it all she kept her eyes downcast as a modest maiden should. No one would expect more, or censure her for her reticence.
    There was stillness and the churchyard filled with an expectant hush. Finally Joanna raised her eyes to meet those of her husband.
    ‘I believe a kiss is customary,’ Hal said quietly.
    ‘Oh! Of course.’ Joanna obediently raised her face.
    Hal hesitated before stepping towards her. He put his hands at either side of Joanna’s face. They were warm and rough. The hands of a craftsman, not a noble. His fingers spread wide so that his thumbs caressed her cheeks and the little fingers brushed against the base of her skull. He leaned down, closing his eyes as he moved towards her. Much gentler than Joanna had expected he brushed his lips across hers.
    With their lips still touching Hal opened his eyes. Joanna tilted her head back and parted her lips, waiting for the assault of his tongue but it never came. Hal’s eyes narrowed and he frowned.
    ‘Well, Mistress Danby,’ he said gruffly. ‘The deal is done.’
    * * *
    The wedding feast took place at the Guild Hall in Bedern. Seated at the centre of the high table Joanna and her husband were toasted and fêted, though in reality neither played much of a part in the proceedings. Her own connections were few, but it struck Joanna suddenly that her husband had brought no guests of his own. Even his best man had been one of Simon’s older apprentices. There had been no one who might have tried to prevent the marriage from taking place.
    Glad to be ridding himself of his niece, Simon had spared no expense so that all might know he was the host.
    Once or twice Joanna caught her husband looking at her when she glanced his way but he quickly turned his attention elsewhere. What would they have spoken of anyway? Their kiss played through her mind. She was aware that somehow her response had been incorrect but did not know how.
    Hal’s plate was as untouched as hers and somehow seeing this was reassuring. He clearly felt as at odds with events as she did and this made her bolder.
    ‘Do you regret what we have done?’ she asked softly.
    Hal put down his goblet and turned in his seat to face her. ‘No, though I shall be glad when the day is ended and we can return to the inn. I dislike all this pageantry.’
    A troupe of musicians struck up a lively tune. Mothers swept children out of the way as laughing couples filled the floor. Before long the sickly-sweet scent of lilies, crushed between the rushes on the floor, filled the air.
    ‘We should dance,’ Hal said, pushing his chair back and helping Joanna to her feet. He was quick on his feet and graceful. Under any other circumstance dancing with him would have been a delight, but as he led her through the steps Joanna’s thoughts were on his last words. When the day ended they would return to Hal’s lodgings with all that must happen between a husband and wife. The thought made her feel nauseous and she stumbled her footing through the next steps of the reel. Hal’s arm came about her waist, leading her back into the rhythm.
    ‘Are you ill?’ he asked, concern clear in his voice.
    ‘Just a little tired,’ Joanna answered.
    As she passed down the line one of Simon’s associates overheard her words. He grasped her round the waist and lifted her high. ‘The bride wishes to sleep,’ he cried. ‘We shall have the bedding ere long!’
    Joanna’s blood froze in her veins. That part of the wedding night had kept her awake night after night. She had steeled herself to bear whatever her husband bade her do, but to be disrobed in front of the guests would be unendurable. Cheers soared around the room, echoing his words. Joanna felt herself passed from guest to guest through the steps of the dance. Her protestations were ignored as hands gripped