Page 69 of The Blacksmith

Forging a sword was a challenge.

Sensing a presence behind him, Lance turned and immediately knew something had happened. Idalia stood at the doorway dressed simply, and somehow lovelier for it. It was impossible not to smile in response to her radiant expression.

“Take over.” He held out the steel to Daryon, waiting for him to don his glove. “Finish pounding it, and we’ll bevel it when I return.”

Daryon took it, looked at his brother, blinked, and then shifted his gaze back to Lance.

“Do you think you can do it?” Lance asked.

“I do.”

Miles moved toward the bellows in anticipation. “Aye, he can do it, and I’ll help!” he said, his excitement heartening his brother.

He nodded his approval, leaving his young apprentices to their work as his father’s words came back to him.

You may not be ready, but try anyway.

How could such a skilled blacksmith and patient teacher also be such a horrible man?

Shoving the thought aside, he hung his apron near the door and led Idalia outside. She nodded toward his chambers at the back of the forge.

“This cannot be overheard just yet,” she explained in a hushed tone.

Once inside, he resisted the urge to take her in his arms. The promise he’d made last eve, not to touch her, had done nothing to alleviate his desire to do so.

In fact, he wondered if it had had the opposite effect.

“My mother,” she said the moment he closed the door. “My mother will be well!”

With her hands clasped in front of her, her eyes bright with enthusiasm, Idalia resembled her younger sister more than she did the woman with all the weight of Stanton on her shoulders.

“The physician came early this morn, although I still don’t know why he’d arrive at such an odd time. But with all that happened, I never thought to press him on it.”

“Tell me,” he prodded gently, eager to know the full story.

“He examined Mother, and she will be well! It was the skullcap she took for the pain in her head. The physician said”—she swallowed—“it was killing her.”

“The skullcap . . .”

“Aye. The pains in her stomach started soon after she began taking it, although she thought they were related to her headaches. She started to get so sleepy all the time, and then her eyes . . .” She let her words drift off. “Oh, Lance, I am so very happy.”

When she threw her arms around his waist, Lance embraced her, pulled her toward him and threaded his hands through her hair. He could feel her heart beating wildly against his chest as a sense of peace washed over him.

He’d feared she would lose her mother, a pain he well understood, but that horror had been averted. Closing his eyes, Lance allowed his relief to settle for a time before he pulled back just slightly.

“No tears,” he said, wiping them away with his thumb. “This is a joyous day.”

He kissed her without thinking, but the quick touch immediately made him hungry for more. It was as if a fire had been lit as their mouths came together again. It was so natural to deepen the kiss that before long they were both breathless, wanting, needing more.

He was surprised, and grateful, when she pulled away. Despite himself, Lance simply could not resist this woman.

“I came here to talk.” Idalia tucked a wisp of hair behind her ear.

“About your mother?”

“And . . . us.”

That very topic had kept him awake most of the night.