The Consolation Prize (Brides of Karadok #3) - Alice Coldbreath Page 0,111
scrabbling at the back door.
“Do not let him out!” Mr. Beverley cried, not realizing who was snatching the door open. “If he runs away, there will be hell to pay!”
As soon as it had been flung it wide, Abelard hurled himself outside and Armand followed, pursued by a mob. Abelard pressed his tiny nose to the ground and headed straight down the garden. Armand followed him, his eyes intent on the dog. Someone behind him let out a cry.
“Look! Someone is at the top of the tower!”
“They must be mad!”
Armand glanced up with dread and saw the tower was illuminated with golden light streaming out of the little chamber room poised at the top of the winding steps. His heart stuttered and then started beating again twice as fast. He could see Una’s red dress and the glitter of the gold net in her auburn hair. She was stood at the very top, with a shadowy figure on either side of her.
Janet let out a lusty wail. “It’s the mistress!”
The babble and clamor that greeted her words seemed to propel Armand out of his stunned horror. He ran until he’d closed the distance between himself and the ruin. Finding Abelard poised at the bottom step, he scooped up the little dog and turned, dumping him in the arms of the first servant he spied.
It was Janet’s swain, Peter. “What will we do, sir?” he gulped.
“Keep hold of the dog,” Armand told him in clipped tones, and made for the steps. Walker and Otho were close behind him.
“Stay where you are!” a voice bellowed down from above. “Or the princess will suffer for it!”
“Princess?” Armand heard voices behind him murmur in confusion. Maybe he should have mentioned that prior to this. There were lots of things in retrospect, he could not help but feel he had handled badly. First and foremost, his woeful attempts to secure his property. By taking on so many in such a short space of time, he had let this stranger slip into their midst and steal his greatest treasure. He had much rather he had emptied his attic strong room than taken Una. Icy fingers of dread traced down his spine as he gazed up at the figures so far above him. Was he not to get the chance to set any of this to rights?
“It is him!” Otho breathed in disbelief. “It’s Waleran. He’s taken them hostage up there.”
Armand froze on the fourth or fifth step up. He could see Una holding out her hands palm up as she tried to remonstrate with the bastard. What the fuck was she doing? He felt his throat constrict and gave an agonized groan. Even worse, she kept trying to step protectively in front of Rose. He ground his teeth, refusing to let these charades distract him from his pale wife. He focused on Una as if the force of gaze from his eyes alone could keep her standing upright instead of plummeting like a stone from the ramparts.
Armand felt the fear settle like a pit of dread in his stomach. He was going to fucking lose her. And she didn’t even know, didn’t have a fucking clue how he felt … A hand clutched at his shoulder. Otho was stood on the step beside him. “Una is a sensible lass,” he heard Otho murmur desperately. “She’ll keep her head.” He was right. Una would keep her head in a crisis. But she would not put herself first. She never did.
Armand’s gaze swept up the crumbling flight again as he furiously estimated how long it would take him to reach the top, but he knew he wouldn’t stand a chance of interception. She was going to fall. He knew it in his heart of hearts. It was his punishment for not appreciating her until it was too damn late. He felt sick to his soul. Terrified. He realized he’d never even known true fear in his life, until this moment.
He stared up at her, desperately trying to will her to have some fucking sense and not incite her crazed brother. He muttered an involuntary oath as the two women suddenly huddled together, seemingly trying to crane as far from Waleran as possible. The bastard flung back his head and laughed. There were only three walls fully intact of the small chamber, so you could see the three of them clearly outlined against the grey stone where a torch flickered from the sconce.