Page 65 of The Consolation Prize

He nodded.

“Oh.” Una turned back to face the fire. At least the flames gave her an excuse for her overheated cheeks. It suddenly struck her that he might have been covering her in kisses to show her how much she had pleased him. After all, that was what he had demanded from her the last time he had brought her pleasure. She bit the tip of her finger and ventured another quick glance at him as he rubbed a cloth over the expanse of his chest.

Remembering how she had shrieked his name a short while ago, she could only suppose he must be expecting his own reward on the morrow! When he joined her in front of the fire a few minutes later, kneeling on the rug beside her, instead of rising to go and don her shift, Una turned to him and started drying his hair with the cloth.

Armand angled his head toward her and sat passively while she moved down to rub his shoulder and neck. By degrees, he maneuvered her into his lap, until her back was pressed to his front and they sat wrapped in the same sheet, their naked skin pressed together, in companionable silence before the fire.

A knock at the door was Peter and Janet come to carry the tub away. Armand kept his arms firmly around her, so Una remained where she was, facing the fire.

Rose brought in another flagon of wine and a bucket of logs for their fire, which she placed carefully down by the hearth, whilst scrupulously avoiding looking at their seated figures. She picked up the other wet drying cloths from the floor and hesitated at the door for just a moment. “Will I keep Abelard with me for the night, my lady?” she asked.

“Is he content to remain with you?” Una asked.

“Oh yes, I let him have all the supper scraps.”

“Then by all means,” Una responded warmly. After the door closed, she murmured, “I expect she’ll let him sleep on the bed. No doubt he’ll like that.”

Armand did not respond, merely dropped a kiss to her shoulder. She shivered and he asked quietly, “Are you cold?” Una shook her head. She felt warm and safe in his arms like this. She wished she had the nerve to say so, but it was hard for her to judge if such words would even be welcome. Armand’s actions and his past words did not seem entirely in accord, just recently.

“You remember those words you said to me on that first morning,” his voice rumbled behind her.

“Which ones?” she asked cautiously.

“About being amenable to me in all things.”

How strange that he was thinking along the same lines as she had done earlier! “Yes,” she admitted, still looking at the licking flames.

“I don’t want that anymore.” Una’s breathing came a little quicker. “In truth,” he carried on after a moment, “I feel like we already replaced that agreement, with our pact to be perfect traveling companions.”

“I felt that too,” Una agreed, remembering how overjoyed she had been at his suggestion.

He paused. “Good,” he said gruffly, his hands seeking hers and intertwining with them, before resting them on her knees. For a moment she thought he would say something else, but no other words were forthcoming, and they sat quiet until Armand suggested they get under the bedcovers. When they did, he immediately pulled her close and did not let go until morning.

When she was very sure he was fast asleep, she found herself whispering in the dark. “You need never worry about being a heavy sleeper, again. You have me now, and I will never let any harm come to you.” His arm tightened around her for a moment and then relaxed again. She was quite sure that he had not made out her words at all, but it was a nice reaction all the same.

*

The next morning bought an invitation from Anninghurst for them to dine with Armand’s family. Una received it with mixed feelings. On the one hand, it was an opportunity for her to redeem herself after the disaster of their visit. On the other, she rather dreaded the possibility that things might grow even more strained, for instance, if they grew aware of her real identity.

“’E’s a fine peacock and no mistake,” sniffed Fulcher, who was planning on leaving them shortly. He was looking out of one of the arched windows and Una crossed the room to see who he was regarding with such interest. It was Armand’s younger brother who had delivered the message from Sir Hugo inviting them to dine that night.

“That’s Armand’s brother Roger,” she said, attempting to cultivate a more friendly manner with Armand’s dubious friend. After all, if he would be collecting and distributing their ill-gotten gains over the next twelve months, she had better get used to having him about the place. “I suppose he is a well-favored youth,” she said surveying him critically. To her mind, his looks were nothing compared to his older brother’s.

“’Old ’ard,” Fulcher said. “I was wonderin’ why he was loiterin’ like that.”

Una noticed Rose was skipping up the path with a basket of herbs she had been gathering for the kitchen. Roger started toward her hastily and Una saw Rose’s step falter.

“Young dog!” Fulcher chuckled. “He ain’t much different to his bro—” He choked off his words hurriedly. “Beggin’ your pardon, milady, what I meant to say was—”

He didn’t get much further, for the next thing Una knew, Roger had seized Rose clumsily in his arms and her basket had spilled its contents all over the path. Rose cried out in alarm, struggling wildly to get free. Una made for the door, Abelard close on her heels.

“Now, milady, you don’t want to start interfering in what’s perfectly natural high spirits in young folk—,” Fulcher started uncomfortably, but Una already had the door open and was hurrying outside.

“Roger!” Una called censoriously as Abelard took off barking toward them. Una stopped abruptly, however, on realizing someone else had appeared on the scene before her. It was Otho. Quick as a flash, he had wrenched Rose free from the young man’s grasp and had slung Roger across his hip sprawling into the dirt, coughing and choking.

Rose had her hands clasped together and was gazing at Otho with stars in her eyes. He turned to her direly. “Get back to the kitchen, Rose!” She fled at once, Abelard taking after her. Una, seeing a martial light in her brother’s eyes, hurried over before Roger could clamber to his feet.

“Well now, that’s quite enough,” she said briskly. “I’m sure Roger will now offer me his apology for treating my maidservant so ill.” Roger who had opened his mouth hotly, closed it again, looking mutinous. “Otho, please extend a hand to help this young man to his feet.”