Page 53 of The Consolation Prize

“No! No!” screamed Toby kicking his legs. “Not Joan! Not Joan!” Anne set his wriggling body down and he stomped up over to Una with a fierce scowl and tears still glittering in his eyes before he repeated the same action. Again, Una bent down and kissed his cheek. His bottom lip quivered as though he were still debating throwing back his head and screeching.

Armand blanched and braced himself, but Una’s calm voice suggested they repair to the solar where they could sit in less cluttered surroundings. Armand half expected his sister to refuse the offer, she had been so prickly at the outset, but to his surprise she almost jumped at the chance, sending a gloating expression his way as she mounted the stairs behind Una.

He wasn’t quite sure how it was, but Armand found himself carrying up the children one on each arm. At such close quarters, their penetrating stares were somewhat unnerving.

“Why haven’t you got a beard?” Joan asked in her high carrying voice. “Fathers always have beards.”

“I’m not a father,” Armand said shortly. “And if it comes to that, where are your teeth?”

Joan giggled. “They keep falling out,” she confided. “I bit into an apple and my front one came out. This one,” she said pulling down her lip to show him the gap.

Armand felt both impressed and faintly revolted. “Maybe you should stop eating apples,” he suggested.

“I gotter napple,” Toby interrupted, keen to prevent Joan from gathering all the glory. He breathed in and out excitedly as Armand wondered if this was the full extent of his contribution. “I hided it.”

“No, you did not you storyteller!” Joan burst out indignantly. “Mother! Tell Toby to stop telling lies!”

“I not!” screamed Toby.

Armand only managed to stick half an hour with them in the solar, before he was forced to go in search of Otho for some respite. Even visiting tenant farmers was preferable to spending his time with his family. If Anne thought she could blacken his name to Una while her hideous children were in tow, running circles around them and upsetting tables, then good luck to her was all he could say!

9

Una picked up the small table and set the book back on top of it for the third time, as Anne scooped Toby up and remonstrated with him.

“He’s tired,” she said, shooting a defensive look at Una.

“Well, he’s only little,” Una murmured tactfully. Poor Abelard had retreated shaking under a wooden bench. New faces seemed to set him back considerably in his recovery and the noisy children seemed to be his limit. Una had expected him to slope off to her bedchamber, but he wasn’t quite willing to let her out of his sight just yet.

Joan, who had initially wanted to play with the little dog, was finally sat quietly in the window seat, having a whispered conversation with a faded cushion she insisted on calling Ida.

Anne pulled a face and lowered her voice. “Ida was a girl we had at the farm last year for a while. Very taken with her the children were, but they weren’t the only ones, so I had to get rid of her,” she said significantly. “If you catch my meaning. If you will take my advice, you won’t spare any time doing likewise with that girl Rose you’ve got under your roof.”

Rose had brought them up more drinks earlier. “Rose is a very obliging girl,” Una replied mildly, and Anne gave her a pitying look.

“Those are the ones you need to look out for, my dear. I know you’re new to this, but it’s never too early to nip these things in the bud. My John has never had a roving eye, unlike Armand, but I make sure never to dangle a tempting morsel beneath his nose like that. You’re setting him up for a fall.”

“Does Armand have a roving eye?” Una asked, not particularly surprised for she had seen enough of those easy manners and charming smiles to guess as much.

“Well, let me put it this way, he had always had a lively appreciation of women,” said Anne with feeling.

“I see.” Una said slowly. “Well, Rose is exceedingly pretty, but she is also a modest and virtuous girl. “Even if she did catch his eye, I do not think he would willfully seduce an innocent young woman under his own roof.”

Anne grimaced. “Maybe not, but he has a smooth tongue and a handsome face. He never lacked for feminine attention I assure you, even at sixteen. I remember one time our father was forced to intercede in an entanglement he got himself into—” She hesitated. “But perhaps that is not a suitable story for me to tell.”

Una smiled at her reassuringly. “I am aware that my husband was not a monk before he met me,” she responded calmly.

Anne set down her cup and jiggled Toby on her shoulder. The child’s breathing was noisy and regular, and he seemed to have finally fallen asleep. “You’re not what I was led to expect,” she said frankly. “Muriel has many faults, but she’s usually a decent judge of character. I can’t think why she was so mistaken about you.”

Una winced. “In truth I was not quite feeling well last night. I fear I made a poor impression.”

Anne looked intrigued. “You’re not …?” Una looked back at her expectantly. “With child?” she suggested, lowering her voice confidentially.

“I shouldn’t think so,” Una answered truthfully. “It’s such early days.”

Anne looked coy. “You never know,” she said vaguely. “It might explain—” She bit off her words with dismay. “I mean, it would probably be good for Armand. Teach him some responsibility and encourage him to be a little less selfish. Of course, it would thoroughly dash my own son’s chances of inheriting Anninghurst,” she said with a regretful sigh. “But then, John always said the chances were never that high anyway. Not with Roger forswearing the religious life like he did.”

Una lowered her own cup. “Anninghurst is your father’s seat I think?”