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Chapter 20
Mary’s stomach turned as they reached the outside of the blacksmith’s shop. She was petrified to enter, wondering if all of this had been a mistake.
What was she going to do? It wasn’t as though she could simply walk in and demand answers or insist that he convince Charlotte to confess her lies. Every ounce of pain that Mary had been through in her life since Charlotte and Lady Rachel came into it would amount to nothing if it meant losing Lord Hanbrooke.
At last, however, she was ready. With Lady Beatrice at her side, Mary took a deep breath and opened the door to the workshop.
The air was exceedingly warm and the room was dimly lit, save for the stove in the corner. A man wore a leather apron and his head was turned away from Mary as he loudly hammered the metal into shape. She could not see him clearly because of the glare of the furnace flame so near him.
Mary glanced at Lady Beatrice, anxious about interrupting him, but Lady Beatrice gave her a nod to proceed.
With that, Mary decided her best course of action was to call out to him.
“Excuse me, sir?”
But the man did not turn. She knew that he must not have heard her for his work was so noisy.
“Sir? I beg your pardon, but do you have a moment?” she called, louder this time.
At this, he startled and turned to face them. Mary saw a handsome, well-built gentleman with thick, dark hair that he kept tied back for its length. His features were masculine and sturdy, giving him the appearance of a man who could tackle any challenge sent his way.
“Ah, forgive me, ladies. I was not expecting anyone and I did not hear you come in,” he said, flashing them a charming smile.
Mary glanced at Lady Beatrice once more, hoping for some strength and courage, but she noted that her new friend was momentarily dazed by this striking man before she remembered herself and finally turned back to Mary.
“Be strong. Do what you came here for,” Lady Beatrice said, encouraging her.
Mary straightened her back and took a step forward, unwilling to cower simply because of this man’s presence.
“Good afternoon, sir. We have come because I need to know whether or not you are acquainted with Lady Charlotte Bolton,” Mary said.
The man froze. He said nothing, but his eyes went wide with surprise and Mary heard a faint gasp from his lips. If he was not going to respond, she knew that she had no choice but to press him further.
“Do you know her?” she asked again.
He swallowed and gave a single nod of confirmation.
“Very well, thank you. And I beg your pardon, but I must ask how it is that you know her,” Mary continued, remaining firm in the knowledge that she could not back down.
For a long moment, Mary did not expect him to answer. But the man surprised her. Rather than cowing to whatever insistence Charlotte must have made for his silence, he crossed his arms over his chest and stood tall and proud.
“We are in love with one another,” the blacksmith said.
Lady Beatrice gasped, clearly not having anticipated this answer any more than Mary had. It was certainly a surprise, but Mary was entirely relieved to hear him confess it aloud.
“And how can that be? How did you meet her?” Mary asked.
“We met at a fair just over a year ago,” he said with a smile. “We have been meeting one another in secret ever since.”
Mary could hardly believe it. A whole year? How had Charlotte managed to keep this a secret? Why had she not found a way to be with him? Why had she allowed her mother to press her into the mould of society when her heart clearly belonged to this man?
“Sir, I beg of you, but Lady Charlotte has said some rather alarming things about me. If you come forward, if you admit that you have had this affair with her, it would clear my name of these lies,” Mary said, hopeful that he would. Although she never would have expected anyone to admit to something like that before, she had been emboldened by his willingness to confess it now to her and Lady Beatrice.
It seemed to Mary that the blacksmith was willing to be honest about their love because he was tired of remaining in the shadows, he was tired of being hidden away. He clearly wanted to be out in the open about his love. Now was his chance, and Mary hoped that he would take it.
“Please, sit,” she said again, desperate.
But he winced and shook his head, crushing every last hope she’d had. “I cannot.”
