The Consolation Prize (Brides of Karadok #3) - Alice Coldbreath Page 0,123

to one side. “Do—do you want to play dragon and knight now?” she asked, dropping her gaze shyly to his throat.

“No,” he answered, tilting her head back up so their gazes met again. “I want to make love. You’re the only woman I’ve ever done that with. Did you know that, Una?”

She was fascinated to see his expression had settled somewhere in between playful Armand and intense Armand. It was a devastating combination. She shook her head. “Have you played dragon and knight with anyone else?” she asked, with sudden misgiving.

He laughed, looking like a great weight had been lifted from his shoulders. “No, for that game was of your invention, wife. Do you not remember?”

“So, it was.” She blushed. “I hope you will not be too serious to play it in future, husband.”

Armand grinned. “I’m sure I could be persuaded with the right incentive.” He closed his arms about her, bearing her back down to the mattress.

“What kind of incentive?” she asked against his shoulder.

“The right fire-breathing dragon. My very own one, that is.”

*

They did not descend below stairs until early the next morning when they came downstairs hand in hand. Una was wearing a robe over her shift, her hair in one long braid over her shoulder. Armand’s tunic was not fastened, and he could not stop yawning. They had been forced to wash in cold water from the previous evening as no one had wanted to disturb them by bringing them up any fresh.

It was Una’s hope that barely anyone would be about after the previous night’s excitement, but by the time they reached the great hall her ears had picked up the low buzz of conversation in there. She tried to hang back, but Armand was having none of it, his arm about her waist, propelling her forward. At their entrance there was a drag of benches as all present rose to their feet with warm greetings.

“Good morning,” Una found herself coloring up and wishing everyone. “Good morning.” It seemed no one present bore her any ill will for her Northern or indeed her Blechmarsh birth. Janet beamed at her and Peter shyly nodded. She was disappointed to see Rose still clad in her drab gray gown, but the girl’s smile was as sweet as ever. Abelard came dancing over to greet his mistress. Una patted his head and examined his side, but he seemed none the worst for his ordeal. Rose retreated to a low stool by the enormous fireplace, where she sat feeding logs into the growing blaze.

Armand sat in his seat, and when Una went to take the chair at his right, he pulled her down into his lap. “Let us remain informal this morning, wife,” he told her with a wink, lowering his voice for her ears only. “I fully intend taking you straight back upstairs again after this.”

Una gazed at him. “Well, I guessed that was why you would not let me dress,” she confessed, and dropped a kiss to his lips. Janet plunked down cups of frothing ale before them and Mrs. Brickenden came hurrying in with another platter of fish and fresh-baked bread.

Una thanked them with a smile and noticed that the hall looked just as packed as the previous evening. If anyone had flung off in disgust at the revelation of her birth, she could not tell. Glancing down the table, Una saw the personable-looking man who had carried a bow the previous evening. He was surrounded by the rowdier element at the table.

“Who is that man?” Una asked Armand. “Is he one of Lord Vawdrey’s?”

“Yes,” Armand said with a dismissive glance at Walker, who toasted them.

“Do you think they will stay with us for long?” Una asked, passing Armand his cup.

“Hopefully for life,” Armand answered swiftly. “You were right. Why should we hinder them from doing their job? It is no hardship for me to have more mouths at our table. We’ve plenty of gold and I do not mean to be caught unawares again.” She noticed he was looking about in some consternation. “But where is Otho?” he asked, and Una realized for the first time that her brother was missing.

No sooner had he spoken the words, then they heard a hurried step enter the room. Otho marched into the great hall, his expression fixed and determined, his arms full of wildflowers.

“Otho?” Una uttered with surprise, but he made straight for Rose who was seated next to the fire. On reaching her, he knelt down before