The Consolation Prize (Brides of Karadok #3) - Alice Coldbreath Page 0,19
servants discreetly collect the used bedclothes from where they’d been folded on another chair in the corner.
Una thanked the departing servants and sat opposite him with a bright smile. “Can I pour you some of this ale?” she asked, ignoring the wine, and filling his goblet instead with the far weaker brew. The food was a tantalizing pair of juicy capons served in a thick herb gravy and accompanied by glazed vegetables. Though not yet restored to his usual rude health, Armand found himself doing the meal justice and felt the better for it.
He had barely finished his second plateful, when another knock was heard on the door. This time it was not just servants to clear the table, but also a portly young man in sage-green robes with an expression of self-importance on his face. He cleared his throat and closed the door quietly but resolutely behind him as the servants fanned out, clearing away the remains of their meal. “Good afternoon, Sir Armand, Lady Una,” he said, bowing to them in turn. “I trust I find you well. My name is Bryce, and I have been sent by my Lord Vawdrey to assist with your plans. It is the King’s wish that you both remain here at the palace until your affairs are in order, and messengers sent ahead to prepare your home for your arrival.”
“That is very good of His Majesty,” Una replied at once. “But I’m afraid we cannot delay and mean to set forth on our journey today.”
Bryce’s second chin wobbled at this and he looked a good deal shocked. “My lady, it is not to be expected that—”
“I’m afraid my husband’s plans will not permit him to tarry here at the palace,” Una interrupted firmly.
Bryce’s watery gaze darted from her face to Armand’s. “I am persuaded that Sir Armand must be fully sensible to the fact that this cannot be,” he said, sounding both shocked and grieved.
“I am sensible of no such thing,” Armand said brusquely, picking up his cue. He pulled back his chair and draped an arm along the back of it, assuming a cantankerous look on his face. “As I’ve always understood it, a wife’s duty is to follow the will of her lord and master. Now we have filled our bellies, I am anxious to be off.”
Bryce’s mouth fell open. He stammered, “The p-princess can hardly—”
Armand raised a hand for silence. “You are speaking now of Lady Una de Bussell,” he corrected grandly. “And on matters pertaining to her, I believe my will is the one that must be deferred to.”
Una shot him a look of brimming gratification. “Of course, I must do as my husband wishes,” she murmured demurely, her eyes downcast.
Bryce looked frankly aghast. “But how are we to make ready for this, at such short notice? A trousseau must be prepared for the Lady Una!”
“Such things should have been done weeks ago!” Armand said scathingly, getting a feel for his role. He brought his hand down with a loud smack on the tabletop. The knives and spoons jumped and struck against the empty salvers. The servants leaped back from the tables in alarm and Bryce’s mouth opened and closed. “Was not the sole aim of this competition to wed her off?”
“Aye, but we did not know her bridegroom would be in such indecent haste to leave!” Bryce protested weakly.
“Indecent? Who’s to judge whether my haste be decent or not? I am my own man, and what’s mine is mine and no one else’s!”
Armand noticed Una was wide-eyed at this tirade as well as Bryce. As for the servants, they were lapping it up. No doubt, it would be all around court by tomorrow that the poor princess was married to an overbearing ogre of a husband, who meant to rule the roost and bend her to his will.
Indeed, he marveled at his manner himself, for though he fancied he’d always had a talent for play-acting, he’d never imagined himself in the role of domestic tyrant before. He felt positively inspired, though where he was drawing it from, he had no notion. His own father had always been rather aloof and disinterested in his role as head of the family.
“Indeed, good Bryce,” Una began placatingly, once the astonished silence had abated. “You need have no worries on that score, for I have packed sufficiently for our journey, and only require some saddlebags in which to convey my things and then I will be most amply provided for.”