The Consolation Prize (Brides of Karadok #3) - Alice Coldbreath Page 0,52

up at the arched beams above her. Lynwode was a beautiful house, well proportioned and spacious. For the first time in her life, the dice had rolled, and she had been revealed as a winner. True, the house needed a thorough going over, but she liked to be kept busy. Her three years under house arrest was the longest time she had been kept idle, and even then, she had made it bearable by plying her needle.

She glanced toward the window, but stained glass was not the best type for enjoying the view. Sitting up, she drew back the covers to climb out, when Armand’s arm wrapped around her waist.

“Where are you going?” he murmured. Glancing back at him, she saw his eyes were still closed and wondered if he was still half-asleep.

“I was just going to look out of the window and determine what o’clock it is.”

“Does it matter?” He frowned without opening his eyes.

“Well …”

He tugged at her waist and Una relented, lying back down beside him. Did he even realize who his current bedpartner was? He shifted closer with a gusty sigh until the length of his body was pressed fully against her, his arm holding her close.

“You can’t be fully rested, so go back to sleep,” he recommended grumpily. Una held her tongue, too surprised to point out that she usually slept poorly in unfamiliar places, and also because apparently he knew full well who she was. After a few minutes, his steady breathing and big solid body lulled her into relaxation and she felt herself drifting back to sleep.

When next her eyes opened, it was much later, for the room was in complete darkness except for the glow of the fire in the grate and she was alone. She lay a moment, getting her bearings, and then sat up, hugging her knees. Someone must have laid that fire she realized, for it had not been lit when they went to bed. Then she noticed little Abelard’s scrawny body stretched out before it, bathing in the warmth. He must have crept out from beneath his chair, she thought with a smile.

The door creaked open, and from the size and shape of the shadowy form entering, she deduced it was Armand. As he drew closer, she saw he was carrying a tray bearing two lighted candles and sundry other objects. “How long have you been awake?” he asked, setting it down on the table. Una was gratified to see the first thing he took from the tray was a bowl of water for the little dog, who had rolled to his side at the sound of Armand’s voice and was poised for flight.

Setting it down beside Abelard, he murmured something soothing to the little dog and then took two goblets of wine from the tray. He approached and handed one to Una and then sat down beside her on the bed. “You slept well?” he asked, his eyes flitting over her. He took a hasty gulp of wine.

“Yes, I did, thank you.” He narrowed his eyes at her a moment, as if he knew full well that she had been about to slip and call him Sir Armand again. But he couldn’t possibly know that, she told herself uneasily and raised the blanket to cover her thin shift. She had thought in the candlelight it would not be too immodest, but the direction of Sir Armand’s gaze told her that more of her was on display than she had realized.

He pulled a face and drained his cup. “Hungry?” he asked. “There’s bread and butter and a sort of pottage your brother made. Sadly, the pantry is otherwise empty. The gods alone know what that wretched girl has been existing on.”

Remembering Rose’s slight frame, Una guessed she probably ate like a bird. “Pottage is fine, and I am very fond of bread and butter.”

He nodded, set his goblet down, and rose to his feet, with some reluctance she thought it seemed, though she could not understand why. Then he moved to the table, transferring the contents of the tray onto it. “Come and sit down,” he said, dragging the chairs up to the small table. When she slid from the bed, he added. “Don’t bother dressing.”

“I have not unpacked my robe.”

“You can sit in this chair, closest to the fire. Or in my lap,” he added thoughtfully. “If you think you may grow cold.”

Una could only suppose he was joking and slipped into the chair he’d indicated, as