Page 12 of Loving the Blacksmith
He barely resisted the urge to place a kiss on her forehead before he got up. The impulse was odd to say the least. Since when did he kiss women on the forehead? He had only ever kissed them on the lips or in the sweet place between their legs, in the heat of passion. This would have been different, a proof of tenderness and respect, and he didn’t quite know what to make of it.
He took a swig of ale before exiting the hut. Sven was waiting outside, idly cleaning his nails with a twig. His mouth curled up when he spotted him.
“Sleep well, little brother?” Never had Magnus wanted to wipe the smirk off anyone’s face more. “What happened to the industrious blacksmith who wakes up at dawn? Did he find something better to do? I wonder what that might be. Or maybe I don’t.” The wretched man waggled his brows.
“I told you yesterday to shut your mouth,” he growled. “I suggest you keep it shut or you might find yourself with a dislocated jaw before long.”
Sven seemed about to reply, then thought the better of it. Perhaps he had seen that this was no idle threat. “Where did you find her anyway? You’ve had your share of women, but I’ve never seen you with a Saxon before.”
“There’s a first time for everything.”
Why had he answered as if he and Agnes were really a couple, Magnus wondered? Oh well. Too late to rectify the impression now, Sven was already convinced they were involved, and if it helped keep his filthy hands from her, then all the better. Not that he had much hope his brother would heed his warning. He never did.
“A bit young for you, is she not?”
“She’s no child,” Magnus said defensively before thinking the better of his reaction. Sven was only trying to rile him again. He should be ignoring the taunts. “She’s slight, it is not the same.”
He knew Agnes to be about Björn’s age, which was admittedly younger than his usual conquests, but old enough to be bedding him. Not that they were sleeping together, of course...
The thought did little to appease his anger, because he wished they were, and not just to hold hands.
“Mm. If you say so.” Sven threw the twig away with a flick of the wrist.
“I do. Now, I thought you were eager to leave.” He strode in the direction of the stable where his mare was waiting. “So let’s go.”
Settledbetween two enormous Norsemen Agnes was intimidated into silence. She let them talk above her head about people she didn’t know and places she had never visited. For once, she wished they were talking in Norse, as it would have given her the perfect excuse not to join in the conversation, but Magnus insisted they talked in her language when in her presence. The intention found favor with her but there was no denying she was ill at ease and fast regretting her request to gointo town. Why had she told Magnus she could do with buying a few items there? It was true, but she should perhaps have waited for a more opportune moment to go. The latent animosity between the two men was making her uncomfortable. She felt like a rabbit caught between two snarling beasts.
“What brought you to a village of Norsemen then, Agnes?” Sven asked her after a while. Had he been anyone else she might have thought he was trying to make her feel less excluded. But she guessed he was merely looking for another way to rile his brother. Evidently, he thought she had come here to be with Magnus and wondered how a man like him could possibly have attracted her.
She decided to put the insufferable man back in his place. If shehaddecided to come here to be with Magnus, then it would be the best decision she had ever made, and she would be sure to leave him in no doubt about it.
After all he had made his brother endure, he had it coming.
“Björn and Dunne came to visit my village a few weeks ago and offered me the opportunity to travel south with them. I accepted, not knowing what was waiting for me, but considering what I found, I’m mighty glad I did. I’m not sure I will ever go home now.”
For good measure, she threw an adoring glance at Magnus, one that caused heat to flush to her cheeks. In normal circumstances, she might have been embarrassed, but right now she didn’t mind, as it only added to the effect she was trying to create. The smile she got in return was blinding. Magnus had seen what she was doing and was grateful for her efforts. But she was glad to help when it cost her little. Besides, nothing she’d said had been a lie. She was glad to have accepted Björn’s offer and she truly had no intention of going back home. John the miller’s father would be waiting for her there, or another of her father’s vile friends.
It didn’t bear thinking about.
She spent the rest of the journey with a strong thigh pressed close against hers.
Finally, they reached the town. It was bustling with activity. Agnes looked around, aghast. She had never been in such a big, busy place and found it hard to adjust to the noisy crowd and so many comings and goings.
“It’s market day.” Magnus had not missed her reaction. “Forgive me, I didn’t think to tell you. Is it a problem?” he asked in a lower voice, leaning toward her while Sven jumped off the cart with a satisfied grunt.
“I...” It was not a problem, exactly, but suddenly she wished she was back at the forge with him. This was overwhelming, much more so than she had expected, and she felt rather silly. “I didn’t think the town would be so big, that’s all.”
Magnus nodded, as if understanding what she was not saying. “If you can wait to buy what you need, I’ll take you back another day, when it’s quieter. Or we can go to the other town on the other side of the forest if you prefer. It’s a bit further but not as big. We don’t have to stay here if it makes you nervous.”
In truth, it did. Having never left her village before Björn’s arrival, she was not used to being in such strange surroundings. Everything here was bigger, noisier, more daunting. But how could she tell Magnus that when he had only agreed to come for her sake? He had sacrificed a day’s work for her, surrendered to his brother’s will for her. She could not make him appear a fool now.
In the end, she didn’t have to say anything. He gathered up the reins and called out to Sven, who had started talking to a man selling tanned leather skins.
“You’ll make your way home from here,” he said, turning the cart around. “’Tis not so far and I would like to get back home before the night sets in. Today being a miserable day therewon’t be light for much longer, and we set off later than we’d intended.”
“Well, whose fault was that?” Sven didn’t sound impressed at his brother’s defection. “I thought we’d agreed you would take me to?—”
“You thought wrong. Goodbye.”
