The Consolation Prize (Brides of Karadok #3) - Alice Coldbreath Page 0,104

to her. Her personal guard was rotated every seventh day.”

Armand considered Otho’s words suspiciously. Their side had been losing, he supposed, but he still thought Una’s brother rather naive if he thought a man still wouldn’t notice an attractive woman, even in the midst of battle. Armand knew he would notice. Well, if it was Una he would. Besides, there was a general she had been close to. The one who had told her about the hidden treasure troves. “What was the name of your father’s general killed at Kettelbrooke?” he asked, recalling suddenly where Una said the man had fallen.

“General Brunold,” said Otho in startled tones.

“What was he like?” Armand demanded. “Young? Handsome?”

Otho stared at him. “He had a hunched back and was sixty-five if he was a day.”

“I must be thinking of someone else,” Armand mumbled. Yes, jealousy definitely needed adding to his ever-growing list of faults as a husband. “Una’s not fond of that housekeeper you hired,” he said, in a swift change of subject.

“I know,” Otho answered glumly. “She’s made no secret of the fact. Hasn’t liked her from the start.” He looked pained. “That might have been my fault too.”

“How so?”

“I didn’t consult her,” Otho admitted. “She felt I went over her head and left her out of the decision-making.”

Something was definitely amiss with Otho today, Armand reflected. He seemed filled with self-doubt and misgivings, not his usual brusque self at all. It was at that point that a sober-faced young woman appeared before them in a grey headscarf and gown. Had they hired a new maid?

“Good morning, masters,” she said in a colorless voice. “There’s a traveler at the door asking to speak with you, Sir Armand.” Otho made a choked noise, and Armand glanced quickly in his direction to find him staring at the girl transfixed. He looked back to the maidservant and was astonished to see that it was Rose. She was almost unrecognizable with her hair scraped back and covered and clad in such drab clothes. “Shall I let him in?” she asked when neither of them responded.

“No,” Armand said, rising quickly to his feet. “I’ll first go and see who this stranger is.” He half-expected Otho to join him, but his brother-in-law sat staring after Rose, who had bobbed a curtsey and disappeared in the direction of the kitchens.

Armand paused in the passageway to strap on his sword belt and then made his way to the front entrance, where a bearded man of medium build dressed in a brown tunic was waiting for admittance. Instead of letting him in, Armand stepped out to join him outside. “You have business here?” he asked, warily sizing the stranger up. He wore no sword at his hip and looked far from threatening with his mild expression. “I would ask what that is?”

The man smiled pleasantly enough and showed Armand his hands first and the fact there was nothing concealed up his sleeves, then he reached slowly into a pouch attached to his belt and drew out a folded and sealed document. “I have here a letter of introduction, from Lord Vawdrey,” he said smoothly, as he handed it over.

Armand’s eyebrows rose, as he inspected the seal showing the well-known insignia of the Vawdrey panther with the Earl’s distinctive coronet. He motioned for the stranger to follow him and they walked around the side of the house. “I am not going to read this letter now,” he said shortly. “What is your name and who the hells are you?”

“It’s Walker, sir,” the other answered readily enough. “Though who I am is not important. I am a mere agent of Lord Vawdrey’s in this business and by extension, the King’s.”

Armand stopped short and turned abruptly to face him. “What the devils does the King want with me?” he barked. “I fail to see why he should have any outstanding business with me.”

Walker’s eyebrows rose at this and he cleared his throat. “I am sure you have heard tell of Lord Vawdrey’s reputation, sir,” he said dropping his voice and Armand’s eyebrows snapped together. Everyone knew the King’s chief advisor was also his spymaster.

“He is a cautious man, Sir Armand. Naturally when you set forth from Caer-Lyoness with a certain personage of close relation to the King, he sent others to watch over you from a safe distance.”

Armand stared at the man who gazed impassively back. “He set spies on me?” he asked hotly.

Walker cleared his throat. “A rather harsh word,” he said reproachfully. “For the