Page 62 of A Bloom for a Blacksmith

“I can’t help but notice you punched with your left hand,” Darius murmured. “But when I see you hammering at the forge, you hold the hammer in your right fist. Did you think about that when you were punching him?”

Giving a start, Angus shook his head. “I didn’t, sir, but I was pushing on his shoulder with my right hand. To hold him down. I’ll still be able to work.”

“Carefully,” Darius conceded. He finished wrapping the pinky together with the ring finger, a wooden splint on either side of the pinky and another one beneath it.

“How long will it take to heal?”

“A month, mayhap more,” Darius replied.

Hearing the women’s voices, Angus straightened and looked over Darius’s shoulder. “They’re coming back.”

When Stella and Iris appeared on the threshold to the bathing chamber, both men immediately stood.

“Are you finished?” Stella asked, her attention going to Angus’s wrapped hand.

“We are, ma’am,” Angus answered, his gaze on Iris. She stood clutching a dressing gown around her body, the silk not leaving anything to the imagination when it came the shape of her body. As arousing as her state of undress could be, the only thing that mattered to him was her state of mind and emotional well-being. He looked her over for bandages. “Are you all right?”

Iris nodded. “I… I will be.”

“Out, you two,” Stella ordered, “but not before you prepare the shower bath,” she added, directing her attention to Darius. “Then go have a brandy in the dining room. We’ll meet you there shortly.”

Darius grinned and did her bidding.

Donning the mob cap Stella offered, Iris stepped into the tub and stood under the falling water. The sensation was so pleasant, she almost wanted to cry. She had shed enough tears, though, so when the water dribbled to a halt, hunger and the promise of dinner had her stepping into the dry bath linen Stella held out for her. Iris sighed when the older woman wrapped it around her like a blanket, making her feel safe and cared about in a way that had been missing from her life for a very long time.

“Better?” Stella peered over one of Iris’s shoulders into her face.

She nodded. “Better.”

“Then let’s get you dressed.” She gave her shoulders a squeeze with both hands before letting her go.

Twenty minutes later, they joined the men in the dining room.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

A Nasty Business

Later that evening

The conversation over dinner never touched on what had happened earlier that afternoon, nor did it stray to very serious topics. The men talked of the modifications for the Agremon Steamer, while the ladies spoke of drapes and the painting that would be done the following day.

When Iris could no longer hide her yawns, Stella leaned over and patted the back of her hand. “I’ve instructed Mrs. Jenkins to see to it the guest bedchambers are made up for the two of you,” Stella said, the footman removing the last of the desserts from the table.

Iris inhaled softly. “I’m to spend the night here?”

“I’m not about to have you go back to the bookshop. Perhaps Mr. Thompson can see to—”

“I’ll take her to the market in the morning,” Angus interrupted. “At half past three o’clock? So you can be there by four?”

Iris nodded. “Yes. Thank you,” she said.

Stella still had her attention on Iris, obviously concerned about her bruises. “Normally, I would have you join me in the parlor for tea, but something tells me you are used to retiring early,” she said.

“Yes, ma’am. It’s already well past my bedtime.”

“The house painters will be at the bookshop on the morrow, and once the paint is dry on the third floor, we’ll see to having some drapes hung,” Stella said. “In the meantime, I’ve found two pairs that should work for the second floor. Perhaps the gentlemen can help with making and installing the rods that will be necessary?”

Darius chuckled. “I think we have some wrought iron that can be fashioned into curtain rods,” he said, rolling his eyes. “Thirty-inch windows, are they not?”