Page 12 of Meet Me at the Anvil

Liam seemed to struggle to find some further explanation as he toyed with the reigns in his lap.

“I’ve been present nearly the entire time Martin courted you. Yet I can count on one hand the number of time’s you’ve looked me in the eyes,” he continued after a moment, more thinking out loud than furthering his explanation.

“You're dangerous for my heart palpitations,” she replied, thinking back to the church. She had held his stare for all of ten seconds before she had found herself on the floor.

She glanced cautiously to Liam, just in time to catch the way he seemed to wince at those words.

Her breath caught in her throat, realizing he likely thought she was referring to his scars.

Diane sputtered to correct herself, waving a hand uselessly. “I simply mean, there is an intensity to your gaze, coupled with the fact that we— er, you see, I have my reputation for swooning—”

She seemed to wither inside a little more with every word she said as she tried to recover without letting on that she thought he was simply too beautiful to look at.

Liam shook her botched attempts at explanation aside, and continued on without hesitation, his mouth set in a hard line.

“I thought that it was not my place to say anything. But the more I watched the two of you, the less I was convinced of that.”

“You meant to object?” Diane asked, wondering if that would have happened if she had not fainted first.

Liam turned to her, leaving the reins slack in his lap to gesture to her, his hands held inches near her face like he meant to hold her cheeks against his palms, to get across the intensity of this emotion he had been wrangling.

Whatever easy companionship they had built sitting side by side for hours was suddenly disrupted as the full intensity of his gaze met hers, and the familiar shock of red blushed over her cheeks.

She averted her eyes immediately to her lap, for her health.

“For weeks, I thought of nothing else! Diane, I thought to reveal my feelings before,” he said, his voice dropping from insistent to something quieter. Then his hands fell, and curled into a loose grip in his lap. He turned his gaze away, his eyes downcast. “But I see now that would have been premature. You are not the woman I thought to know.”

Because she had revealed she was unsuitable, because of her hobby. Because she had thought to show him who she was.

The impact of his words seemed to sink into her skin, and feel heavy against her face, as if they could pinch taut the muscles. She pressed the tips of her fingers against her cheeks to relieve the feeling.

After several quiet, heavy moments, she gathered herself up and looked squarely at Liam. “I am glad not to be.”

Chapter 5: Lunch

“At some point, we needto make a plan,” Liam said, perhaps the first full sentence he had uttered in an hour since his odd confession.

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