Page 45 of Heart of the Hunter (Band of Bastards #3)
Galiena let out a soft snort of laughter. “That, I believe. I rarely hear more than a few mumbled words from him. But from all you’ve told me of him during his visits to the shop and the events of the last sennight, he actually speaks to you.”
She had told Galiena everything about Hunter, from his visits to the shop over the last two years to the events that brought them together at Castle Whyte, the night in the hut, going to Madam Ruby’s brothel, and the journey to Hawkspur.
She’d left out the intimate details of what happened by the stream, but her friend had immediately understood without explanation that something had taken place and the confusing emotions that still swirled inside her.
“I know how hard you have worked to establish yourself as a goldsmith,” Galiena said, “and Hunter must know as well for the time he’s spent with you and Frode and Sumayl in the last years.”
“But when I told him I did not want to marry because everyone who offered for me also expected me to give up goldsmithing, he scoffed.” Anora still felt the sting of it, not because he had dismissed her objections to a husband, but because she’d hoped that if anyone would understand, it would be him.
He wasn’t orthodox in his views of society, and he’d always laughed in appreciation when her father regaled him with stories of her obstinate independence as a child.
It was a misguided notion, but she thought he might even offer her guidance on how to live as an independent woman.
She’d already concluded that she needed to hire a protector after her father and Sumayl were gone, but with good fortune, it would be some time before that was a concern.
“You have to look deeper than what men say,” Galiena said, “especially with a man who rarely speaks about anything, like Hunter. Saying what they truly feel does not come easy.”
Anora resituated Ani to lay against her shoulder after she yawned and rubbed at her eyes. She gently patted the baby’s back to soothe her, enjoying the little coos she made as she snuggled into Anora’s neck.
“Even if he does feel something for me,” Anora argued, “there is nothing for him in Oswestry, and everything I have is there.”
“From my experience, obstacles do not stop the heart from yearning, and if the last few days are any indication, he has already worked his way into your heart.” Galiena slid her a knowing look and a wicked grin as she bounced little Erik on her hip.
“If you can’t keep your hands off each other, which I would wager is the way of it, the rest will sort itself. ”
“Mayhaps we will become secret lovers,” Anora said with a grin that matched Galiena’s. “Is that not what the wealthy widows do, take a lover and continue about their lives? I will do the same.”
“Anora!” Galiena laughed out loud at her boldness. “You are an outrageous woman. I’m not sure if I need to protect my daughter from the likes of you, or if I want her to be every bit as fearless as you.”
Anora hugged the little girl in her arms. “As her auntie, I plan to corrupt her in all the best ways.”
“That is what I’m afraid of,” Galiena said with a roll of her eyes.
“What are you afraid of?” The women turned to find Red standing behind them with a wooden tankard in hand.
“Anora’s influence on Ani.” Galiena turned a radiant smile toward her big, burly husband. He planted a kiss on the top of her head and scooped up Erik on one arm.
“And with good reason,” Red said with a booming laugh and a wink in her direction.
He held out the tankard to her. “I brought you some wine, Anora, and I hope it will ease the sting a little when I say I want to steal my wife, son, and daughter away from you for a dance around the fire before the babes fall asleep.”
“I think I can be persuaded.” She handed Ani to her mother and took the proffered cup. She inhaled the wonderfully aromatic steam coming from the tankard of fruit and spices mulled in a warm wine. “Have fun and don’t worry about me.”
“Someone would like to say hello,” Galiena said in a low voice with a nod over Anora’s shoulder. Anora turned to see Tommy Cutpurse shifting nervously from foot to foot while twisting his cap in his hand.
“Tommy,” Anora said with delight. She was truly pleased to see the boy at Hawkspur.
He’d been living as a street urchin in Oswestry stealing from unsuspecting patrons of the local pubs when he found himself embroiled in the same mess with Galiena that put them inadvertently in the path of an assassin.
Tommy had been forced to stay in hiding at the goldsmith shop until the danger passed, and in that time, Anora came to see what a bright and inquisitive boy he was under all the grime and attitude.
He had grown in the two years since then, but she guessed him to be no more than about ten years old, though he was definitely wise beyond his years from being forced to survive on his own for so long. “I am certainly pleased to see you.”
Tommy smiled up at her and bobbed his head. “Pleased to see you, milady.”
“Are you getting along well here at Hawkspur?”
It had been Hunter who had gained the boy’s confidence and convinced him he would be of use to Lord Hawk at Hawkspur Castle.
“I am,” he said proudly. “I ’elp the smithy in the forge. Clean the floors. Put away ’is tools. Git ’im what ’e needs.”
“I’m sure you do a fine job of it, too,” she said. It warmed her heart to see the boy thriving and taking pride in his work. He was a good lad at heart and Hunter had been right that he just needed a purpose to keep his keen mind busy and out of trouble.
“’Unter didna’ say you were comin’ ’ere.” Tommy said perplexed.
“Do you see Hunter often?”
Tommy nodded. “’E comes by the smithy often. ’E likes to ’elp, too.”
“He does, does he?” Anora said, interested in that bit of information. “He likes to help Sumayl in his smithy when he is in Oswestry, too.”
“’E says ’e likes poundin’ things.”
“I imagine he does,” Anora said with a little laugh, picturing Hunter trying to hammer away his sour moods.
“I ’afta go now,” Tommy said, staring up at Anora expectantly.
“It was very good to see you, Tommy.” She smiled at him as she waved him away.
Anora enjoyed the warmth of the cup of mulled wine on her hands as she inhaled the rich aroma and sipped the wine while she meandered through the bonfires, only half-heartedly listening to the bard as he sang an epic ballad of unrequited love.
She’d weaved her way around another bonfire and was bringing the cup to her lips for a sip when she saw a familiar face with piercing eyes rimmed in dark lashes, the shadow of a dark beard marred by a thin scar along the jawline, and subtly curved lips.
Her heart stopped beating in her chest as her gaze locked with Hunter’s.
He had his back to the castle wall, his arms crossed over his chest, and one leg bent with a foot pressed to the stones.
He looked freshly bathed with his wet hair slicked back away from his face.
How long had he been watching her? And how long had he been standing there?
She froze in place when she saw him, the cup still poised near her lips. Her skin rippled in anticipation of his touch, and she knew Galiena was right: He had already worked his way into her heart.
Without looking away from him, she brought the cup to her mouth and took a long, slow drink of the wine, deliberately licking her lips as she lowered the cup.
She saw his lips part and his Adam’s apple bob in the light from the dancing flames, and a flush of satisfaction washed through her at his response.
The memory of his hands and mouth on her body in the moonlight by the stream flooded her mind and she shivered.
The way he watched her every move as she continued to walk among the revelers with unhurried steps was intoxicatingly delicious.
The noise faded, the crowd fell away, and she felt dizzy with power as she kept his focus on her slow, deliberate progress.
His intent stare stayed with her for several more paces before he pushed off from the wall and slowly walked toward her.
Her throat went dry at the hungry look in his gaze that never left her.
His pace matched hers, but there was something dangerous and seductive in the way he moved, and she instinctively licked her lips.
They each intently watched the other as they moved toward an unspoken destination.
Anora knew how this would end, and she would not accept any outcome other than the one that was playing through her mind of him skimming his hands over her naked body, his touch setting her aflame.
And she wanted him naked to run her hands down the broad chest and chiseled abdomen that had haunted her dreams since the night by the pool when he stood with the water gently rippling at his hips.
All of her resolve, all of the sense that she’d reasoned through in the last days, flew from her head and only he mattered in this moment.
She would not think about after, or what was to come of them, or of her.
Already, she was well past the age of marriage and was likely to spend her life as a spinster.
She wanted to experience passion at least once in her life, to have a love affair to remember.
As he came closer, her heart pounded in her chest, the beat of it pulsating in her ears.
He stepped in front of her, and she stopped.
Neither of them spoke. Anora held his gaze but was determined not be the first to break the silence.
She brought the cup to her lips again and took a slow drink while she studied his face.
His eyes dropped to her lips when she pulled the cup away and she licked a drop of wine from her lower lip, elated at the way his eyes homed in on the movement as she heard his breath hitch in his chest.