The Consolation Prize (Brides of Karadok #3) - Alice Coldbreath Page 0,127
on her head, she wore the autumn wreath of orange flowers that crowned his win. It suited her well, as did the happy flush upon her cheek. Her auburn hair was so long she was sat upon it. She looked, he thought, like a bride. Perhaps, they could have a second wedding night later in the privacy of their bedchamber, to replace all memories of the first.
This time, he would be a winner in truth, and a worthy bridegroom, even if he was a mass of bruises. It had all been worth it. Even having to suffer Una’s attention being monopolized by the King, which had slightly maddened him this week. In truth, Wymer vied as much for Armand’s attention as he did for Una’s. He’d never really understood why the King liked him so much, but he supposed he was more grateful for the fact these days. It had caused him to look favorably on their match after all.
After his win, he had been presented by the King with a golden cup, a large bag of coins, and a new banner, which when unfurled, showed his winged horse juxtaposed with Una’s green wyvern. Una had gasped at the sight of the Blechmarsh dragon on her husband’s standard.
“Your new crest, De Bussell,” the King had said with a nod. “Marking the occasion of your marriage.”
“It looks very well, sire,” Armand had said, raising his goblet aloft. It amused him to wonder what Henry and Muriel would make of him having his own variation on the family coat of arms. They had been rather pompous about the fact their family now contained former royalty, even if it was Northern. Even his father had been touting the news about all of Derring, bringing his cronies and acquaintances over to meet Una at inopportune moments and sending a ridiculous number of invites for them to take their meals at Anninghurst.
Armand had started debating if he needed to build a hunting box somewhere, simply so he could stash his wife away from intruding hordes of people. It had been nearly as bad at Areley Kings, with crowds dogging their every step and gathering around their pavilion to get a glimpse of the northern princess. Luckily, Vawdrey had agreed he should keep Walker on and five of his men to act as a personal guard for Una, otherwise she would have been swallowed up by provincial crowds. She took it all in her stride, however, with a kindly smile and word for all who approached her. Her reputation was slowly changing from warlike to benevolent in popular opinion.
“Aye, it does,” the King agreed, interrupting his thoughts “Your heraldic beasts look well combined. As do you,” he beamed. “It was a damned fine notion of mine, that May Day tournament. Said it would turn out for the best, didn’t I, Vawdrey? Eh?”
He turned to the enigmatic earl who gave his wintry smile. “As you say, sire,” his aide responded diplomatically.
A strange thought suddenly struck Armand. “Una,” he said in a low voice. “Do you remember that role you asked me to play the day after we were married?” At her frown, he continued urgently. “The possessive groom, eager to wend his footsteps homeward?”
Her brow cleared. “Of course,” she said staunchly. “You were wonderful.”
“What if it was merely a glimpse of what was to come?” he asked, and her gaze turned inquiring. “What I mean is, what if I slipped so naturally into it, because it’s who I really am?”
Una smiled. “You mean underneath the easy-going façade Sir Armand is a budding domestic tyrant?” she asked teasingly.
“Exactly.” He brushed a kiss to Una’s brow. “I think we should hang the new banner over our bed tonight,” he said warmly. “I look forward to vanquishing my dragon later,” he murmured in her ear. “For an even sweeter victory than this one.”
Una tipped her head back to look at him. “I fear, you will not find me so easy to defeat as Sir Garman,” she answered with promise. “For I have your measure, Sir Lusty Loins and will never be taken in by your tricks.”
“Don’t I know it,” Armand agreed fervently. His wife certainly kept him on his toes when it came to the bedchamber. There had been a time when he had thought her incapable of flirtation, he remembered dimly. Now, she had only to call him Sir Armand with slow deliberation and she made him so instantly aroused that he felt light-headed. As for their dragon-slaying trysts,