Page 29 of Picking Up the Gauntlet

He entered the smithy, thinking he heard someone sniffle from within. His bet would be on Gerold, if he hadn’t just seen the boy sitting next to his brother in the great hall, so it couldn’t be him. Slowly, he entered the room, having just enough light from outside to see a candle and flint on a table. He put down the surcoat and lit the candle with his back to the rest of the room, slowly closing the door. Then, without bothering to turn around, he spoke.

“I know you’re here, so you might as well show yourself.” When he turned around, Raven walked out from behind a cupboard, but said nothing to him.

“Why are you here and what are you doing?” he asked in a low voice, using the candle to light the logs on the hearth. After getting the fire going, he got up and turned to see Raven sitting quietly at the small table.

“I’m only here because I need something from you and I’m running out of time,” she said, staring off into nothingness instead of even looking at him at all.

“Really.” He found that interesting yet confusing at the same time. He approached her, pulling off the gloves he wore, holding them in one hand. “Now, what could a woman like you possibly need from a man like me?” He took a step closer, his legs brushing against her knees. When she didn’t answer, he reached out and tilted her chin upward until she was looking directly at him. Something told him that what she really needed was a kiss. That must be it, he decided. This woman was complicated, but why else would she be here in secret, waiting for him to return? Throwing caution aside, Jonathon leaned in to her for a kiss, but it never happened. Instead, Raven pushed him hard, sending him falling back, hitting the cupboard. The gloves he’d been holding fell to the ground.

“Stop it!” she warned him.

“Stop it? I don’t understand.” He slowly righted himself. “One minute you act as if you like me and the next as if you hate my guts. I don’t like this addled game at all.”

“Is that what you think?” she asked, slowly standing and walking over to him. “You thought I wanted you to kiss me, didn’t you?”

“Why the hell else would you come here in secret and wait in the dark if you didn’t?” He bent down to pick up his gloves, but she did so at the same time, taking one while he picked up the other.

“What are you doing?” he asked, knowing it wasn’t proper for a noble to pick up something for a commoner. Hunkered down, they faced each other. The firelight from the hearth splashed across her face, making her eyes seem to glow. Her raven-colored hair glistened in tones of blue-black, looking soft and silky. The woman’s skin was smooth, and she smelled intoxicating. Like roses, if he wasn’t mistaken. God’s eyes, the wench was beautiful. Why was she playing these games with him? Was she purposely trying to make him go crazy?

“I’m picking up the gauntlet,” she said, standing, slapping the leather glove against her palm.

“Huh?” He stood as well, still holding the matching glove.

“When I am faced with a challenge, I embrace it.”

“I don’t understand what you mean.”

“You’re an armorer, aren’t you?”

“You know I am.” He started to wonder if the girl was addled.

“Then I want you to make me a set of armor.”

“I see.” He nodded, thinking she really meant it. “For whom shall I make this armor?” he asked, bewildered why she would be asking him, instead of the man who needed it.

“It’s for me, you fool. I want armor that is lightweight and proportioned appropriately for a lady.”

“For you?” He made a face and chuckled. “Nay,” he said, shaking his head. “Women don’t wear armor.”

“But they could if they wanted to, couldn’t they?” She seemed flustered, and sounded like she wasn’t going to give up this crazy idea. She really wanted this armor for herself. God’s eyes, the woman was an anomaly. He’d never met any female in his life who thought the way she did.

“I-I suppose a woman could wear armor. That is, if she had some to fit her.”

“Good. That’s what I thought.”

“However, I have no idea how to do it, so I have to object to your request.”

“I see.” She paced back and forth, still slapping the glove against her palm. The sound of it hitting her skin oddly made his loins tighten. “It’s not a request, it’s an order.”

“I’m sorry, my lady, but I have to object. It’s not proper for a lady to wear armor. Besides, your father and brother would kill me if I did what you ask.”

“Nay, that’s not true,” she said, looking sly all of a sudden. “They won’t know about it, so there is no harm in it.”

“I won’t lie to them, if that’s what you’re asking me to do.”

“You’ll do what’s best for both of us, and I’ll hear nothing more about it.”

“What in the world does that mean?”