Page 36 of The Blacksmith

Aye, it was you. And you enjoyed every moment of it.

As the meal ended, she assumed he would leave with the others. But with more than half of the hall already cleared, both Lance and his friend remained.

“Confound Sheely,” her father muttered suddenly, his tone too soft to be heard farther down the table. “Have you heard his blathering? He’s more than halfway up John’s arse, but . . .”

He cut himself off.

It was the kind of comment he’d have made to her mother. She suspected he’d forgotten his daughter sat beside him and that his wife lay asleep in her sickbed. Her father stood, joined by everyone else in the hall, including his daughters.

The meal was now officially over.

Tilly wasted no time bounding up from her seat, off to their mother’s chamber. Idalia normally sat with Mother midday until preparations for the evening meal demanded her attention, and despite Father’s protestations that they must leave their mother to sleep, Tilly enjoyed crawling into her bed in the evening. Which left Idalia to walk among their retainers, listening to informal complaints and even a kind word every so often.

Still, as she made her rounds from table to table, he stayed.

Before long, she had been to every table but his. Avoiding it would seem unnatural.

Attending to it, disastrous.

But she had no choice.

“Good eve,” she said, approaching. Only four men remained, including Lance and the mercenary. Idalia concentrated on the others until she was forced to give the smith her attention.

“I do not believe I’ve had the pleasure of an introduction,” she said as the mercenary stood.

“Sir Guy Lavallis of Cradney Wrens, my lady.”

“May I present,” Lance said, standing as well, “Lady Idalia, daughter to the Earl of Stanton.” Though he’d finished with the introduction, it almost seemed as if he had more to say.

“Sir?” she blurted out without thinking, forcing her gaze back to the mercenary. “La . . . Master Lance mentioned you’d arrived here a few short days ago at Stanton. I do hope your stay has been a pleasurable one.”

“It has, my lady. And made more pleasurable this eve, if I may be so bold to say so.”

Ah, she knew his kind well. This was the kind of man accustomed to taking whatever he wanted. A handsome rogue. Hair that appeared dark now but not so much it would remain that way in the sun. Full brows and lips, which lifted slightly now. But his sweetened words had no effect on her. Roysa, had she not been wed, would have fallen for the handsome man in a trice. Which was no disrespect to her sister. Roysa herself admitted to being smitten with rogues.

Idalia had different taste.

Lance was looking at her, eyes hooded. She wished she could remind him that he had been the one to put distance between them.

Because right now, he looked as if he wanted anything but.

Idalia’s pulse raced at the thought of being alone with him again.

“May I compliment you on the beauty of Stanton Castle?” Sir Guy said.

“I would be pleased to show it to you.” Doing so was one of her favorite duties, one she’d gladly assumed from Dawson. Idalia was quite proud of what her family had managed to accomplish with the Anglo-Saxon structure.

“It is well lit,” she rushed to explain, “so there’s no reason to wait for morning. My day is often taken up with many other duties . . .”

The mercenary stepped away from the trestle table. “We would be most honored to tour the keep now.” He looked at Lance, who definitely did not look honored.

In fact, he appeared to want to throttle his friend. The interest and desire with which he’d regarded her earlier in the night was nowhere to be seen. Perhaps she’d imagined it.

Idalia ignored that uncomfortable thought, excused herself, and spoke to one of the maids to arrange for her to assist Cook in the kitchen’s cleaning. Rejoining them, she could not help but notice the difference between the men. Lance scowled. Sir Guy—a knight, which she would not have guessed—grinned like a squire who had just been given praise by his master.

“This,” she said, addressing Sir Guy, “is the great hall of Stanton Castle, although you’ve obviously surmised as much already.”

The tour would be simple. Ignore Lance. Pretend she was not hurt by his rejection. Distract herself by interacting with his friend. She would hardly even remember he existed.