Page 80 of A Bloom for a Blacksmith

He nodded. “I do,” he admitted. “I… I wanted to so badly last night. When we were in that bed together. I wanted to kiss you… on your lips, your neck, your breasts, everywhere.”

“And I fell asleep,” she whispered.

“Deservedly so,” he said, reaching for her hand. He brought it to his lips and kissed the back of it. “I tried to imagine what you will sound like when I pleasure you. I wondered if you would cry out my name.” He moved his arm to the back of her waist and pulled her closer.

“Is that what I should do?” she asked, swallowing as she gazed up at him.

Furrowing his brows, Angus realized that with her simple query, she was admitting she had never been with a man before. Although he had bedded a woman in his past—an older widow—he had done so for the assurance of a place to sleep and a hearty breakfast. That had been back when he was an apprentice, when he was still in search of a place to live that wasn’t in the squalid slums of London.

A place that wasn’t like the tenement Iris had been forced to endure when she lived with her brother. Jacob’s position as a carpenter should have afforded them a far better place to live. Money for decent clothes and a laundress. A wife. So why had they been forced to live near the slums of the Seven Dials?

When one of Iris’s hands waved in front of his face, Angus gave a start.

“What were thinking just then?” she asked.

It was his turn to swallow. “Why it was your brother wasn’t married,” he murmured.

Iris gave a start. “I often wondered the same. For a long time,” she said. “I think it was because he wasn’t good with money. He paid the rent, but otherwise, he spent all his earnings on ale and on… ladies of the evening,” she said, whispering the last words. “He would bring them to the room, after he thought I was asleep.”

Angus made a sound of disgust in his throat. “Did he ever…?” He clamped his mouth shut.

“He never touched me,” she said.

Letting out the breath he didn’t know he’d been holding, Angus wrapped his arms around her and hugged her tightly. “I would have killed him if he weren’t already dead,” he claimed.

Iris jerked in his arms. “I know,” she said after a moment. “You’ve already proven yourself,” she added, her lip lifting on side.

He winced as he felt heat color his neck and ears. For the rest of his life, he would remember what had happened yesterday afternoon. And why. “I will be your protector for all of eternity,” he vowed.

She gave him a wan grin. “My lover, too?”

“Your one and only,” he agreed. He captured her lips in a gentle kiss and then moved a hand to the side of her neck. When he smoothed it over her warm skin to the back of her head, he delighted in hearing her soft moan.

When his stomach growled, Iris tittered and pulled away. “I think it’s best I boil some water and prepare a supper,” she said. “You’re going to need your strength.”

Chuckling, Angus stepped back. “Very well. While you do that, I’ll see if I can make myself useful.” He pointed to the fireplace and then to the windows. “I’ll get the fires started here and downstairs.” He shed his topcoat and draped it over the end of the longer cot.

“Do be careful with your hand,” she said, motioning to indicate where his fingers were still bandaged with a splint. “And the paint on the wood around the windows is still damp,” she added as they made their way back down to the second floor.

After Angus had the fire started, he made his way upstairs. Using the only chair to be found on that floor, he placed it in front of one of the windows, testing it to be sure it could handle his weight. Pulling a pencil and a measuring tape from the tool bag, he began the task of marking where the rod supports would need to go, his movements hampered by his bandaged hand.

Meanwhile, Iris filled a pot with water and hung it from a hook over the fire. She dressed the table with a cloth and two place settings before pulling a block of cheese, apples, figs, damsons, and grapes from her snap tin.

“I’m going to speak with Mr. Agremon about extending the water pipe from your kitchen area to the next floor up,” Angus called out as he used a hand drill to create small holes above and to either side of the window trim.

Iris paused in her task of cutting an apple into wedges. “So we can have a pump up there?” she asked, making her voice loud enough to be heard upstairs.

“And mayhap a shower bath,” he said.

From the movement of a chair overhead, Iris realized he was already installing one of the drapery rod supports.

“In a separate bathing chamber.”

“Where would the water go?”

“Down a drainpipe,” he replied. “Somewhere in the mews, or into a barrel.”

“We would never have to haul water?” she asked in awe.