Page 25 of The Blacksmith

“Idalia,” he corrected.

This time, she did not mistake his tone. More than familiar, it dripped with promise and longing, and if she could summon the nerve to utter his name aloud, Idalia was pretty sure hers would do the same.

Which would not do at all.

Chapter 9

Lance handed Daryon the punch and nodded.

“I’ve not used it before.”

His brother, the more self-assured of the two boys, had just stepped outside. Which was exactly why Lance had given Daryon the tool now. Although Miles did not intend to hold his brother back, his skills sometimes intimidated the more soft-spoken lad.

“I know you haven’t, lad.”

Lance stepped aside. “Make sure it’s hot enough,” he said, watching as Daryon put on his gloves and used the pliers to heat the end of the horseshoe. When the iron glowed, he placed it back onto the forge, picked up the punch, and looked up at Lance with wide eyes.

“Now turn it and use the pritchel hole to punch the backside,” he said, even though Daryon already knew what to do. If he could say one good thing about his father, it was that he’d never assumed Lance could do something he’d never tried before. Watching and doing were two different things.

“That’s it,” he encouraged as the boy created the first of six holes that would be needed. He worked quickly and efficiently before the shoe cooled.

He did it easily enough.

“You’re doing a fine job.”

“He has a fine mentor.”

He spun toward the door, leaving his apprentice, and embraced the man who strode toward him.

“What are you doing here?”

Guy released him and nodded toward Daryon, who was now cooling his handiwork in a bath of water. He understood. It wouldn’t do to talk openly in front of the boy.

Guy approached the boy, who’d set down his tools, hand outstretched.

The mercenary could be both brash and callous, but he could act the part of a gentleman when he so chose.

Taking off his glove, the boy stuck his hand out tentatively.

“You are a lucky boy,” Guy said to the bewildered apprentice. “Your master is the most sought-after smith in all of England.”

Daryon’s eyes widened to the size of coins.

“Truly? All of England?”

“And Scotland too,” Guy boasted.

Lance rolled his eyes, though neither of them noticed.

“I’ve even heard them speak of him in France, so coveted is his work.”

“Daryon,” Lance interrupted. “Go find your brother. I will finish up in here.”

The boy looked down at the shoe. The expression in his eyes spoke of a certain longing.

“We’ll be sure to show Miles tomorrow before giving them over to the marshal,” he said, reading the boy’s thoughts.

The boy grinned at him before scampering out of the forge. The door nearly always remained open to allow sunlight in and smoke out, but Lance shut it behind Daryon as he automatically began to clean the shop.