could do it,” he said cautiously. “I was thinking of riding into the village later for provisions. I could put the word out we’re looking for servants.”
Armand nodded. “Kitchen staff are the most pressing, I’d say.”
Otho murmured in agreement. “And garden. It’s overgrown and ill tended. She kept the herb bed in order and precious little else.”
By “she,” Armand deduced he was speaking of Rose. He rolled his eyes. “I’m surprised she managed that much,” he said sourly, and Otho grunted in agreement. “Una wants to keep her on,” he admitted grudgingly.
Otho looked disgusted. “Why?”
“I can’t possibly be expected to repeat her line of reasoning on an empty stomach, but mayhap you could dissuade her on the matter.”
Otho looked skeptical. “She’s a mind of her own, for all she seems so reasonable.”
“You can try at least.” Otho shot him a narrow look, and Armand realized that Una’s brother still harbored suspicions that Rose might be some cast-off from his past. “Never mind, you will do as you see fit, I’m sure,” he said passing on and walking to the kitchen in search of sustenance.
It looked a good deal cleaner and tidier this morning, though very bare, with none of the paraphernalia of a functioning kitchen he had ever seen. There were no herbs hanging from the rafters, no smell of dough or waft of spices. Still, at least it no longer looked like a filthy hovel.
He crossed to the empty pantry and observed the half-empty sack of grain with disfavor. Above it on a shelf, was the end of a loaf of bread. That would have to do. He took this and slathered it liberally with butter and let himself out of the kitchen door and into the gardens at the back of the house.
Otho had not exaggerated. Armand’s eyes roved over the extensive kitchen gardens, which were full of untidy plants that had either bolted or gone to seed. He walked down the overgrown walkways, eating his bread, and taking in the abundant signs of neglect about the place. He could not blame it all on Rose, he reflected fairly. For in truth, there was no way that one woman could maintain such a large property. He had been the one who had neglected Lynwode ever since his godfather Sir Adrian had died.
At the bottom of the garden, marking the end of his land, was an extensive ruin in grey stone of a much earlier property. So occupied was he in gazing at what was left of it, that he did not hear Una coming up the garden behind him and was only aware of her when she stopped at his elbow.
“It is a very picturesque view, is it not?” she murmured, standing beside him.
“You think so?” He turned to look at her, as she stood gazing steadily at the remains. Her little dog sat at her feet, staring up at Una rather than the ruin.
“Oh yes. It must have been a sizeable property indeed, for look,” she pointed. “That looks like the remains of a rampart and that tower looks almost intact with its little arched window at the top.”
“It has barely three walls, and you are not to go near it,” Armand heard himself reply sternly. “When we were boys, my brother Henry dared me to climb that tower and I nearly broke my neck. The steps are crumbling, and several have eroded. I can’t imagine it has grown any safer in the past twenty years.”
“I did not intend to climb it,” she answered, looking at him rather oddly.
He strove for a lighter tone. “A good deal of the stone from it was used to build Lynwode,” he said turning back to look at the house.
Una followed his example and gazed up at it appraisingly. “It is a lovely house,” she said softly. “You must be very proud of it.”
Was he? In truth, he’d barely given the place a second thought, save for basking in the satisfaction that Henry had been seething to see him land such a large inheritance. Poor Henry, whose only distinction had been the fact he was born first. As though aware of his thoughts, Una asked, “Why did your brother dare you to climb it? Were you very competitive growing up?”
Armand laughed. “Hardly. Henry’s a poor creature.” He offered Una his arm and they proceeded toward the ruin, followed closely by a trotting Abelard. “When I say he challenged me, what I really mean is he claimed it was impossible to climb