Page 14 of The Blacksmith

It had not even slowed.

“And is it?” she pressed.

He walked past her, close enough for her to catch his scent. She could smell dried woodruff and decided he must have somehow arranged for a private bath. It was not a common fragrance here in Stanton, but the scent was most pleasing.

As was the man himself. He stood shoulder to shoulder with her now, or would have if he weren’t so much taller. In reality, it was more like shoulder to upper arm.

“What is that, in the distance?” he asked, pointing.

Idalia, accustomed to the torchlight where there should be none, smiled in anticipation of the tale she was about to tell.

“The spirits of Eller’s Green dwell there.”

She wasn’t surprised he looked skeptical.

Pretending, as best she could, that her heart wasn’t still racing as fast as her sister Tilly fled from her duties around the keep, Idalia explained, “We Northerners, as you know, are a superstitious lot.”

“I know it well,” he said, his lips tilting up slightly, although it could not quite be called a smile. “A good friend of mine, a Scot, takes a coin with him into every battle, believing he would otherwise be killed. He found it after his first battle, lying on the ground with no bodies close by or indication of where it had come from. Having been spared in the bloody altercation, Terric sees his coin as a sign. I fear for him to lose it, not because I think it protects him but because Terric truly believes it has special powers.”

She smiled, understanding completely. Nodding to the light, she said, “None know why the wooded area there is called Eller’s Green, but it’s been so named for generations. Stanton Castle was granted to my great-grandfather, and according to those who know the tale best, the spirits were out there long before that.”

She nearly laughed at his dubious expression.

“The lord of Stanton was returning home from battle when he dismounted his horse right there.” She pointed just beyond the tower, to a thickly wooded area close to the source of the light. “Just beyond those trees.”

The noises of the day had abated, and the quiet struck Idalia, reminding her she was very much alone with this handsome man.

“Some say he’d already been injured in battle. Others deny it. But all agree that when he fell to the ground, dead, it was the spirits who’d caused his death.”

Lance stepped away from the battlement and leaned against the wall of the tower behind them, crossing his arms.

“They were angry at him, I assume?”

Of course he did not believe her. In truth, although Idalia found the story entertaining, she did not believe it either. But many did, as evidenced by the light peeking through the trees.

“Aye, for going to battle with his neighbor, a man many considered honorable.”

She pointed to the light. “A small watchtower was built by his son. To this day, Eller’s Green is never left unguarded.”

That managed to surprise him, she could tell. “That light is a guard’s torch?”

“Aye.”

Lance shook his head. “Seems a waste of a man to me.”

“To pacify the people who very much believe the spirits may return? Mayhap. Mayhap not.”

She did look him fully in the eyes then, and wished she hadn’t. Lance’s face was nothing less than perfection. His brooding stare did nothing to slow down her heartbeat, which had again begun to beat most abnormally.

“Do you believe in evil spirits?”

“Nay,” she admitted. “I do not.”

“So what, Lady Idalia of Stanton, do you believe in?”

Chapter 6

He should never have followed her.