“Then what did you mean?” I fired.
The man shook his head. “I meant nothing becauseI had no reason in me when you crossed my line of sight. I had only lust. I grieve that I have offended you. As I grieve being lumped in with the rest of men who have disappointed you. For I think I wish to stand out in those beautiful eyes.”
I snorted, my eyes taking him in entirely now, seeing the old scorch marks on his hands and forearms, noting the building’s entrance he stood within. He was the new blacksmith from the Eccleston guild, sent for by the lord. “Never speak to me again, not of my sex or of my eyes. I don’t shoe my horse or have need of swords. My pans and pots are old but in working order. I see no need to ever darken the smithy door. I will not tell you my name, for you won’t need to mark it in your ledger.”
“Forgive me,” he repeated, eyes almost solemn now.
“No,” I pronounced and turned away, back to the original path I tread.
“Oh,” he sighed to himself. “That side is just as ripe isn’t it, though?”
My head whipped around, nose wrinkling. “Really and truly? Immediately after your groveling? I see it was meaningless.”
The man who called himself Avery covered his mouth with his hand, and I knew he hid a grin. “My tongue runs away from me at your every angle, lady. I need time to learn to curb it.”
I told him to screw himself and stalked away pretending not to hear him say, “Oh, I will have to now. After seeing all that round flesh before me.”
I spent the day grousing to myself, stomping around the lord’s copse, mangling more mushrooms than I collected. But I felt something akin to satiation that day. It was the most interesting exchange I had experienced in winters.
I still attended tenth-day services to avoid being fined. I had never been given Magda’s freedom of being exempt. The first, second, and third services after our new blacksmith’s appointment resulted in his sitting just behind me each time. I did not know how he managed it, but when I stood from my stone pew, ready to leave before having toengage with any of the folk I knew gossiped about me, I would turn to find him grinning up at me from where he sat.
I would blink, pretending not to see him, and make my way outside to find Zara at the public hitching post, ready to leave town.
At the fourth service, he was unable to finagle the same position and I, furious with myself, was disappointed at not turning around to find that rugged countenance full of mischief and flirtation behind me. I looked around and did not see him. I wondered if he knew these were mandatory services, thinking someone should warn him. I found myself wondering also if I should mention it to my sister—the smithy only a short walk from her house in town—so she could warn her new neighbor.
“What is the matter with you?” I muttered to myself, weaving amongst the parishioners to make my way to the hitching post.
Avery was leaning against it, a hand under Zara’s snout as she snuffled into it. “Happy tenth day to you, Roberta,” he said, glancing up from the horse.
I stood a few paces from him, unsure. “What do you feed her?”
“Honey cake. My horse likes it, so I thought?—”
“You will cause her teeth to rot,” I said.
“I would shoe her for you. At no cost to compensate for my poor manners.”
I shook my head. “I only ride her once or twice a week. Mostly she runs wild in the forest.”
He nodded. “Yes. The forager.”
And the abortionist, I thought. “How do you know my name?” I asked.
“I listened in church. Someone called you?—”
“I prefer Robbie,” I interjected before I knew what I did.
“Robbie then,” he assented. He took a hesitant step forward and extended a single lily to me. “My apologies for our first encounter. I am an animal and undeserving of your forgiveness. I won’t ask for it again. You should not give it to me. You are right not to.”
I stared at the fresh flower, which was dwarfed by the size ofhis hand. It was the color of a lurid sunset, like a flame was trapped in its center.
Stepping past him, I put myself in between him and the horse and began to untie her from the public post. Before I could stop myself, I said, “You have to attend tenth-day services. You will be fined and eventually jailed if you do not. You are likely too big to box, but they may even call for that if you miss enough of them.”
Why did I concern myself with this rogue’s possible punishment?
“You worry for me?” he asked, his voice gentle.
My head went up. “No.” Then I avoided him while I placed the bit back in Zara’s mouth, mounted my horse, and guided her away from the hitch.
