Page 30 of A Bloom for a Blacksmith

“Could he make a pale yellow, do you suppose?” Iris asked, excitement in her voice.

“I don’t see why not.”

“I would like yellow,” Iris said softly.

“I’ll order it on Monday,” Stella said. “In the meantime, we should see to taking you to your room.” She paused a moment but appeared reluctant to speak.

“What is it?” Iris asked.

“Have you had a chance to go through your brother’s things?”

Iris nodded. “I did. I sold his clothes at a pawn shop. I would have sold his tools, too, but he didn’t own any.” She followed Stella down the stairs.

“Do you wish to visit his grave? We can take you there—”

“I will go there again on the morrow,” Iris interrupted. “I’ll take flowers.”

“And a marker? Have you ordered one?”

Surprised by the query, Iris dipped her head. “Mr. Miller has already seen to a wooden marker,” she replied. “A cross. He burned Jacob’s name into it.”

“I’ll have Darius see to something more permanent,” Stella offered.

Iris widened her eyes. “You will?”

Stella nodded, retrieving her redingote from her office. “It’s important the location of a relative who has passed be marked not only for the current generation of his family, but for future generations as well,” she murmured, her gaze obviously on something in her mind’s eye. “My son sees to the care of a cemetery near a city in Greece where we once lived,” she added. “The stelae—the gravestones—are all marble. He made sure to tip them forward just a bit, so their carvings are protected from the weather.”

Inhaling softly, Iris nodded. “I should like that very much,” she said, her attention going to Stella’s husband. “I will pay for it, of course.” He was leaning against the front counter, his beefy arms crossed over his chest, his appreciative gaze on Stella. Iris forced herself to look away, her cheeks reddening when she realized he was openly admiring the woman.

Lusting for her.

Iris had to return her gaze to Stella, lest she miss what her employer was trying to tell her.

“I rather doubt he’ll accept payment, but we can talk about it in the coach,” Stella offered. “He’ll need the particulars, of course. For the carving. Come, let’s be on our way. You have much to do before Mr. Agremon and…” She turned to Darius. “Will Mr. Thompson be joining us on the morrow?”

“He will, indeed,” he replied.

“Oh, good,” Stella said. “I feared he would be in church all day.” She directed her next words to Iris. “I look forward to introducing you to my husband’s apprentice, Mr. Thompson. He is a blacksmith. Quite skilled at his craft and very amiable.”

Iris blinked, wondering at Stella’s enthusiasm for the young man. For a moment, she had the impression Stella wished to introduce them for a reason other than the labor he would be providing. “I will be happy to pay him for working on his day off, ma’am.”

“That won’t be necessary,” Darius said, waving a hand dismissively. When she scoffed, he added, “It’s important the young man learn about doing service for others, and I’m happy to teach him.”

With Darius’s assistance, they gathered a number of crates and loaded them into the Agremon coach.

“I shan’t need all of these,” Iris said, surprised at seeing how many were assembled atop the coach and on the back of the equipage.

“Whatever you cannot use, I’ll simply take home,” Stella replied. “I expect I’ll be bringing more books to the shop in the future. Besides, I shouldn’t want them to take up space in your apartment.”

“I would not mind,” Iris replied. “The rooms on the two floors are far larger than what I have grown accustomed to whilst living with Jacob.”

“You will appreciate the extra space should you ever marry and have a family,” Stella countered.

Iris scoffed. A family? She wasn’t being courted by anyone. Now that Jacob had died, she had no one to introduce her to a potential husband.

Is that what Stella hoped to do?

When Mr. Stover, the coachman, asked for their destination, Iris provided her address, and Darius helped her into the coach.