Page 14 of Caroline Saves the Blacksmith
Now that she was finally off her feet, Caroline swung her head to look about the room. Above the fireplace hung a seascape of a calm day on the water with tiny boats bobbing under the bright sun while waves crashed onto the rocks at the foot of a cliff. Between the comfortable, overstuffed settees lay a rug woven in blues and greens, and several plump pillows in similar hues decorated them. And across the room, tucked in the corner next to the staircase, was a small wooden table and four chairs with matching seat cushions.
“Your cottage is not what I expected.”
William swung his head up from eating his sandwich, shrugging his broad shoulders and setting off a quiver in her, which she quickly suppressed. “I have not redecorated it since I took it over. Aunt Gertrude is from Cornwall.”
He gestured to the painting.
“I like it,” she assured him before continuing her meal.
After taking several bites of her own sandwich, she finally stood. Taking his teacup to refill it, she went back to the kitchen. Returning to William, she found him chewing on a York biscuit with an expression of bliss. He nodded his thanks when she placed the cup down. The biscuit looked small and inconsequential in his powerful hand, which brought up notions of—
No, Caroline!
Chastised, she retreated to the kitchen. With determination, she took up the supplies she had brought and returned to the front room to grab one of the chairs in the corner and drag it to the windows.
“What are you doing?”
“I am making your home festive.”
“You brought Christmas boughs to attend to me?” The man appeared genuinely perplexed as Caroline sat down with the boughs in her lap and began to tie one to the windowsill.
“Why not? We are stuck together for Christmas, and there is no one at my shop to appreciate these. They are wonderful, are they not? Mrs. Greer made them for me.” Caroline breathed deeply of the rosemary scent as she worked. She did not miss the quizzical look William threw in her direction. He clearly thought she was a madwoman, bedecking his home. But if work kept her mind busy and prevented her imagination from straying in unwanted directions, then William was going to have the most festive home in all of Chatternwell.
Blazes, he is a handsome man!
Not like Lord Saunton, one of the handsomest men she had ever laid eyes on. Nay, William Jackson was handsome in a masculine, roughly hewn manner that made her think of hot, sweaty activities that she was avoiding. His body was obviously powerful beneath the thin disguise of minimal clothing, his muscles well developed from thousands of hours of pounding metal and working bellows. Currently, his white shirt gaped open to reveal the column of his neck. His waistcoat had been divested, and he wore only one stocking, with one hairy, muscled calf on display.
It is simply a test, Caroline! You are to prove you have matured into a chaste woman!
She cleared her throat and hummed another carol while her fingers worked on the boughs. What a relief that she had brought something to do! Even now she could feel his eyes following her, but once she was done with this, she had more work to do. She would prepare a poultice for his sprain following the doctor’s directions, then clean up the kitchen. If she was clever, she could keep herself occupied until the blacksmith fell asleep.
Caroline’s eyes widened in horror, and her humming halted. She had not considered where she would be sleeping later tonight. The blacksmith would likely remain on the settee because the flight of stairs was both narrow and steep. With the state of his swollen leg, he would not make it up the steps.
She supposed she could sleep in his bed on the next floor, a thought that shot a riot of tingling sensation over her, but she might not hear if he called for help.
Biting her lip, she glanced around the sitting room, her fingers ceasing to work until she glimpsed the second settee. It was large enough for her to rest.
Across the room, William followed her gaze and, for the first time since she met him, a smile spread across his face. It was devastating—a slash of white teeth startling in contrast to his dark beard—and Caroline found herself struggling for breath as she focused on the lips she had noticed before.
“You are wondering where you will sleep?”
Speechless, her tongue tied by her lustful imaginings, all she could do was nod.
“Perhaps before you decide that, you might want to draw the drapes.” He gestured to the window where she was working. Stricken, Caroline spun her head round to stare out at the deserted street in dismay. She could only hope no one had walked by. Standing in haste, Christmas boughs falling to the floor, she jerked the blue curtains shut and then ran to the other window to shut those, too.
There she stood, panting in panic as she stared at the drapes.
“No one saw you.” William’s husky voice broke the silence.
“Are you certain?”
“I am. I have had a clear view of the windows since you walked within view. Caroline … I want you to know that if any of this damages your reputation … I would do the right thing.”
Caroline stopped breathing. That was the last thing she needed to hear. In all her years on this earth, no man had ever offered such a thing. Even if it was merely to protect her reputation, it was still … noble.
The attractive blacksmith, who secretly took care of old ladies, was now offering to be a gentleman and marry her in the event her reputation suffered? She did not need to admire the man any more than she already did. Or imagine lying in the marriage bed with him leaning over her.
“You want to … marry me?”
