The Consolation Prize (Brides of Karadok #3) - Alice Coldbreath Page 0,61
on tidying the kitchen garden at once. “I also found a possible cook,” he started, folding his arms, and jutting his chin out. Armand wondered if every conversation with Una’s brother was going to be as confrontational as this one.
“Yes,” he answered, striving for patience. “Well, that’s good isn’t it?”
Otho’s lips thinned. “He has a somewhat checkered history,” he admitted cautiously.
Armand straightened up. “What does that mean?”
“He used to be a successful baker in a city about ten miles from here, but he’s had to move in with his wife’s family in Little Derring.”
“Why is that?” asked Armand, reaching for a brush.
“He burned his premises down.”
Armand lowered the brush. “He burned it down?” he repeated slowly, as Otho stared resolutely back at him. “Some kind of whim or fancy took him?” he hazarded.
Otho’s expression grew stony. “By all accounts, he used to have a problem with the drink, but he’s abstinent now so …”
Armand sighed. “It’s your decision, Otho,” he said, applying the brush to Arturo’s long back. “If you say the man is reformed, then by all means give him a trial.”
“We needn’t furnish him with lodgings, for he has a wife and child at the family home to return to.”
Armand nodded. “By the way, how many servant bedchambers are there?”
“Four,” said Otho looking scandalized that Armand had to ask. “But there’s room for more than one bed in all of them.”
“If you keep employing villagers, we won’t need to double them up,” Armand observed sagely. He crouched beside Arturo’s great legs then realized Otho was still lingering. “Is there anything else?” he asked looking up.
“That girl,” Otho said, not meeting his eye.
Armand grit his teeth. Otho’s attitude over Rose was starting to seriously annoy him. “Well, what about her?”
“If Una wishes to keep her around, she’ll need demoting. She’s not fit for a housekeeper.”
“Agreed.”
“She needs moving out of the housekeeper’s room into a smaller one.” His jaw hardened. “You should see the state of it.”
Armand’s eyebrows rose. “Is it dirty?”
“It’s not that,” said Otho in clipped tones. “It’s crammed full of wildflowers! Looks more like a meadow than a bedchamber.”
“Well, I suggest you cross that bridge when you’ve found a new housekeeper,” Armand observed dryly. “Otherwise she’ll be spouting tears for the next week and it is your sister who will suffer for it.”
Otho rocked back on his heels looking much struck by this argument. “There is something in what you say,” he admitted grudgingly.
“So good of you to say so,” Armand muttered as Otho strode purposefully out of the stable. Arturo whickered as though in sympathy. He patted his horse. “Exactly so. I’m glad I may depend on you at least.”
Their midday meal was another haphazard affair. Armand made his way into the great hall without great hopes of sustenance, but it seemed that word had spread in the village of Lynwode’s occupation. Several tradesmen had presented themselves at the kitchen door that morning and Una had purchased a keg of ale, a baked ham, and three loaves of bread.
He and Una sat at the head of the freshly scrubbed table, on a raised dais, under a high vaulted ceiling and a minstrel’s gallery and ate their simple meal with relish. If it seemed incongruous to be sat eating bread and ham in such an impressive setting, neither of them saw fit to mention the fact.
It seemed Una did not pass as many morsels of ham down to her little dog as he would like, for at one point, he timidly cast a glance in Armand’s direction, smacking his lips. Discreetly, Armand dropped some meat at his own feet and the dog darted forward to retrieve it before returning to his mistress.
Once Abelard had settled again at Una’s feet, Armand let his eyes travel up her skirts appraisingly until he reached her face. She was gazing at the decorated wooden screen that concealed the three doorways to the kitchen, pantry, and buttery, no doubt thinking about furniture polish or some such thing. Armand found his thoughts wandering to less practical matters.
He rather liked her height he decided, with surprise. He certainly appreciated her long legs when they were wrapped around him last night and he liked that she could kiss him like she had that morning, without struggling to reach his lips.
“I wonder that the others do not join us,” Una frowned. “Is that not something that is done in the South?”
“What’s that?” asked Armand, who had been distracted with his inventory of her charms.