“Don’t look so frightened,” she said with a slight smile. “I’ve done this before and know what I’m doing. Besides, even if it warps, there are ways of straightening it.”
“Oh, good,” he said, moving closer as she pulled the sword from the liquid dip. Winter laid it atop the anvil, looking down the edge of the blade. “Did it warp?” he asked, craning his neck to see it.
Winter checked one side and then the other. Then she nodded with satisfaction. “It looks good.” Martin swore everyone in the room let out a breath of relief.
“So, that part is done,” Martin commented.
“Not yet,” she explained. “When I quench the sword, it cools it off very quickly, therefore making the sword very hard.”
“That’s good,” said Martin.
“Nay, not really,” she continued. “If it is too hard, it becomes brittle.”
“Ah,” he said, understanding the process now. “We don’t want it to break or crack when I use it.”
“Nay, we don’t.” She turned around and used a polishing stone to remove the dark color covering the quenched sword. “I’ll remove the soot so I can see the color of the sword. Then I’ll temper it in a cooler fire so the middle of the blade is pliable and will bend when you use it. But I need to be careful, so the edges of the blade remain hard and strong.”
“That is fascinating,” said Martin, never having taken the time to find out all the details that went into constructing a sword. “How will you know when to stop the tempering process?”
“When the sword is plum-colored in the middle, that will mean it’s softer there. On the outside, we’ll want a wheat color.” She continued to grind with the stone.
“Lady Winter,” he said, clearing his throat. Can I – talk with you? In private?”
“I’m very busy,” she said, not looking up from her work. “Whatever you have to say, please do so. I have no secrets from my friends.”
Martin looked around the room. Nairnie watched him from the shadows. He had Wallace and Josef’s attention, too. The only one who was paying him no attention at all was Winter. He couldn’t ask her to marry him now. Nay. This wasn’t the right time or place.
He turned on his heel and hurried out the door.
“What’s yer hurry, Lord de Grey?” Nairnie followed, stopping just outside the entrance to the blacksmith’s shop.
“Never mind,” he said and kept on walking.
“Ask her. Dinna be so afeard.”
He stopped and turned around. “Ask her what?” he said in surprise. Was the woman a mind reader to know what he had planned to do?
“Give her yer promise as well as yer heart, and she’ll say yes.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, old woman.”
“I’ll send her to the garden tonight after everyone has gone to bed. Be there.”
“She won’t meet with me. You saw the way she just shunned me.” He walked back to Nairnie, not wanting anyone in the courtyard to hear their conversation.
“I have never seen such a frightened warrior in all my days,” she scoffed.
“I’ll have your tongue for speaking to me that way, Healer.”
“Ye’re afeard of bein’ rejected, are ye no’?”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I ken more about ye than ye do about yerself. Look into yer heart and see what it is that is keepin’ ye from the lass ye love.”
His head jerked upward. “What did you say?”
“She loves ye, too, but she doesna ken it yet. Ye are goin’ to have to make her realize it.”
“Marriage has nothing to do with love.”
“But it should.”
“Mayhap,” he said, fingering the key in his pocket - the key to the box with the heart lock that depicted the two lovers.
“I’ll make sure she’s in the garden when the guard atop the tower rings the bell to change shifts at midnight. If ye care at all about her, I suggest ye worry about yer own tongue and quit threatenin’ to rip out mine.”
“What does that mean?” he asked her.
“Keep yer tongue in yer mouth, and yer sword sheathed and think about somethin’ other than lust if ye dinna want to lose her.”
Nairnie turned and headed back into the blacksmith’s shop, leaving him wondering if perhaps her words of wisdom were exactly what he needed to hear right now.
Chapter 13
Winter entered her bedchamber late that night, more than tired. She’d stayed at the forge all day, not even taking time to stop and head to the great hall for a meal. Nairnie had been kind enough to bring her food to the blacksmith’s shop.
Wallace and Josef took breaks to eat and had been sleeping in the back of the smithy for hours now. But Winter was so excited with the progress of the sword that she couldn’t have stopped even if she wanted to. She still had a lot of work to do before the piece was completed, such as adding a guard and handle, sharpening the edges, making sure it was all even, and shining it. That, however, was not going to happen tonight.
Winter entered the room surprised to see Nairnie sitting by the fire. The old woman was darning one of Winter’s gowns she’d ripped at the forge. She had only the two gowns, and the one she wore now was filthy and smelled like smoke. She’d been washing in the basin of water each night, and applying rosewater to her skin and hair that she’d brought from Ravenscar.
“Nairnie, I’m surprised you’re still awake.” With a slight push, she closed the door and came inside the room.
“Och, lassie, ye stink from the forge. Dinna come in here smellin’ like that.”
“I’ll wash,” she said, going for the ewer of water. “Nairnie, it is empty.”
“Aye. I used the water to remove the sweat from my body earlier.”
“And you didn’t refill it?” she asked.
“Ye’ll have to go down to the well and get water.”
“I’m too tired,” she said. “I’ll do it in the morning. I just want to sleep.” She headed toward the bed.
“Ye’ll no’ lay on those clean linens with that soot in yer hair. Now go down to the lake in the garden and take a bath.” Nairnie got off the chair and shoved a jar of soft soap into Winter’s hands.
“Where did you get this?” asked Winter, opening the jar and taking a sniff. “It smells like lilacs.”
“I got it from the chambermaid. She said Lord de Grey has many nice things left here by his mathair. Here is some rosewater, too.” She shoved another bottle at her. “And here is a gown ye can wear until I can wash the one ye’re wearin’. Now take it off.”
“Nairnie, these things are exquisite,” she said, sniffing the rosewater that smelled twice as potent as the one she’d already used up. “What will Lord de Grey say if he finds out?”
“He willna find out. The man is so blind, ye could probably walk past him naked and he’d never notice.”
That made her laugh. “Nay, Nairnie. Naked – that is something he wouldn’t miss. I can’t use the pond in his garden because that is his personal space.”
“That is why ye need to use it. He’s already asleep. Since it is so late, no one will see ye.”
“Oh, I’m sure the guards will see me.”
“It is almost time for them to change posts. Do it when they are in the process. No one will see a thing.”
She surveyed the soap and rosewater and then the beautiful cream-colored gown Nairnie held that looked as if it were made of silk. It had a full skirt and long tippets that hung to the ground. Around the bodice was lace with stitching in a crossed pattern that accentuated the bosom. Her heart cried out. She wanted to feel noble and to be clean again. “I haven’t worn the gown of a lady in so long,” she said.
“Everyone kens ye are a noble now, so there is no reason no’ to look the part when ye are no’ at the forge.”
She thought about it for a moment and then swiped her hand through the air. “I’ll wash in the lake and use the soap and rosewater, but I can�
��t wear the gown.”
“Why no’?” asked Nairnie. “Just wear it to get back to the castle after ye bathe.”
“I’ll take a cloak instead,” she said, looking toward the hook on the wall. “Nairnie, what happened to my cloak?”
“I gave it to the chambermaid. She has been workin’ in the fields in her spare time to earn more money for her five children. Her husband died. She needed it more than ye.”
“Oh, my. I’m sorry to hear that. It is starting to get very cold outside. I am glad you let her have it.”
“Aye, the weather is gettin’ colder every day. That is why ye’d better hurry. Here is a towel to use when ye get out of the lake.” Nairnie plopped the gown into her arms as well as a clean towel. “Now hurry, before the guards change posts. And dinna wear that old, dirty gown back into this room after ye are clean. Do ye hear me?”
Before she could even answer, Nairnie pushed her out the door. Winter was already down in the courtyard before she thought about how she’d get back without being seen by the guards. She was about to return to the room and ask Nairnie when she heard the bell atop the tower ring once.
“The guards are changing posts,” she said, hurrying toward the hidden garden instead of back up to the room. Mayhap it was stupid, but she’d find a way to get back to her chamber unseen later. Right now, all she could think about was washing away the filth and sweat and feeling like a lady once again.
* * *
Martin entered his private garden just after the bell rang out atop the battlements. Feeling nervous and unsure of himself, he fingered the key in his pocket as he made his way to the small lake. He’d worn one of his best tunics tonight, and even shaved and washed and combed his hair. Why, he wasn’t sure, since he highly doubted that Winter was going to show up. Still, a part of him hoped she would.
He only had a few torches burning inside the garden tonight. He didn’t want to light all the candles and scare her away before he got there. Taking the curvy path toward the small pavilion, he stopped in his tracks when he saw a beautiful, naked fae in the moonlight, emerging from the water.
It was Winter. She didn’t see him and, for that, he was thankful. Stepping out of the water, her pure white skin glistened in the glowing moonbeams. Bending over, she rung out her long, ebony hair, giving him a perfect glimpse of her bare backend. His heart about stopped. Memories of their lovemaking flooded his head, affecting his sexual prowess.
He should have made his presence known but he couldn’t. Winter would feel embarrassed or think he was spying on her. Martin felt his groin harden and groaned. It must have been louder than he thought because her face turned upward and her eyes met his.
“Lord de Grey!” she retorted, quickly pulling a gown over her head. He recognized it as one of his mother’s gowns. He took a few steps toward her.
“Lady Winter, I – I,” he cleared his throat.
“What are you doing here?” she snapped, tying the laces on her bodice.
“Me?” That took him by surprise. “This is my private garden. I belong here. Why are you out here in the middle of the night?”
“I was filthy from the forge and needed to bathe. You were spying on me, weren’t you? How long were you standing there and why didn’t you make your presence known?”
“Winter, it’s not what you think.”
“Then explain yourself,” she said, bending over and picking up her things.
He walked over and stopped her. “Lady Winter,” he said taking her hands in his. She stood upright and looked into his eyes.
“Yes?”
“I didn’t come here tonight to spy on you, and I had no idea you’d be naked and taking a bath.”
“I see,” she said, not sounding at all like she believed him.
“I’ve been wanting to talk to you privately. Nairnie said she would send you here and that is why I’m here now.”
“Nairnie,” she said, shaking her head. “I should have known. That old woman tends to meddle in everyone’s business.”
“Come, sit down in the pavilion with me.” He smiled, trying to seem friendly so he wouldn’t scare her away.
She looked back to the pavilion and he could see the indecision on her face. There was no doubt she remembered the last time they were alone in there.
“I’m not sure,” she said. “I think I’d better be getting back to the room.”
“There’s no need to hurry. Nairnie knows where you are. And since nobody else knows but me – no one will be looking for you.”
“All right,” she said. “But just for a minute.”
He led her into the open pavilion, gazing at her in the moonlight. “You look beautiful tonight, Winter. This is the first time I’ve seen you dressed like a lady.”
“Thank you.” That earned him a smile. “You look very nice as well.”
“Shall we sit?” He held out his hand. When they’d both been seated, he suddenly became tongue-tied. The silence between them lengthened.
“What is it you wanted to say to me?” she asked, finally breaking the silence.
“The sword is coming along nicely,” he said, trying to lead into asking her to marry him without just blurting it out.
She frowned. “That’s what you wanted to tell me that you couldn’t do in front of Wallace and Josef?”
“I also wanted to say . . . I am glad you returned.” The sweet smell of lilacs drifted from her skin, driving him mad. He fought the urge to pull her into his arms and kiss her passionately – and to do so much more.
“It’s only until I finish the blade. Then I’ll be leaving for Ravenscar along with Nairnie and the others.”
“Leaving?” he asked in surprise, fingering the key in his pocket for strength. “I had hoped you would stay. At least for a little while longer.”
“Lord de Grey, if you don’t mind, I am very tired.” She got to her feet. “I’d like to get some sleep, if there is nothing more you want other than small talk.”
She started to walk away and Martin panicked. He sprang to his feet and called out after her. “Marry me!”
Winter stopped in her tracks and turned to face him. The moonlight spilled over her dark hair and trailed down the front of her, making her look like an angel.
“Pardon me?” she asked. “What did you say?”
“You heard me, Winter. I want you to marry me.”
“You do?” She looked at him suspiciously. “Why? You aren’t just saying that to get me into your bed again, are you?”
“Nay, I’m not. I swear it.”
“Prove it,” she challenged him.
“Prove it?” He laughed nervously. “How can I do that?”
“I don’t know, but you’d better think of something. Because, right now, it sounds to me like naught but one of your little games.”
His mind went blank and he said nothing.
“I thought so,” she said, sounding very disappointed. She turned again to go.
He had to do something fast or she’d walk out of his life forever. With his hand still holding the key, he pulled it out of his pocket. Looking at it, he came up with an idea.
“I give you the key to my heart,” he said, hoping that sounded romantic.
“The key to your heart?” she turned back and her eyes trailed from his face down to the key with the heart-shaped top that he held out to her in his palm. The moonlight bathed it in a soft, white glow. “This is the key you gave me the day you took me to your bedchamber. I dropped in in the rushes that night.” Her long fingers stretched out and she plucked it from his hand. “It is a key to your treasure box. Something you never use. Nor does it mean anything to you.”
“Nay, it does,” he tried to convince her. “I am giving you the key to my heart and asking you to be my wife. What is your answer, Winter?”
She reached up and kissed him. Martin’s hands went around her waist and he pulled her closer. Her scent filled his senses, making him want to scoop her up into his arms and take her to his bed. Lad
y Winter was intoxicating, and she was also his weakness. Never before had a woman possessed him like this. He felt as if he had to have her – as his lover and his wife.
“You smell good,” he said, rubbing his cheek against her face, inhaling the scent of lilacs and roses from her skin and hair. The silk of the dress felt satiny under his fingers. He tried to hold his hands in place but the dress was slippery and they started to slide down her body.
“Your kisses are even better after you’ve shaved,” she told him, rubbing her cheek against him as well. “So soft,” she murmured.
“Winter, what is your answer?” he whispered into her ear. His hands slid down the slick gown again, ending up nestled against her rear. She pulled back quickly and he yanked his hands away.
“Were you just fondling me again?” she asked.
“Nay,” he said quickly, cursing the fact she wore that slippery gown.
“Are you sure you weren’t . . . feeling me?” Her bright green eyes scrutinized him, almost glowing in the moonlight. He swore he saw a hunger there. She wanted him as much as he wanted her.
“Did you . . . want me to?” he asked cautiously, not exactly sure what to say. He wanted to be romantic, but the only way he knew to do that was to be sexual. She enjoyed coupling as much as he did, so mayhap she wanted him to say he wanted her instead of denying the fact. His head spun and he no longer knew what to do. Women were so complicated at times.
“I am going to bed,” she said, turning and walking down the path.
“Aye, I’ll go with you.” He meant that he’d escort her, but it came out sounding wrong.
“Alone,” she said, gazing up into his eyes once again. He couldn’t help himself; he had to kiss her. Reaching down, their lips met, and a warmth passed between them. Her kiss warmed him to his very soul. He felt the passion in her kiss. If she denied she wanted him, too, she’d be a liar.
“What is your answer?” he whispered. “Will you marry me?”
She looked down to the key, coddled in her hand and then back up to him and smiled. And just when he was sure she was going to say yes, she surprised him once again.
Winter's Flame (Seasons of Fortitude Series Book 4) Page 12