Page 68 of The Consolation Prize

He waved her words away. “Do not bother protesting. We are only too familiar with Armand’s many faults, I assure you. His mother ruined the boy and now we are all reaping what she sowed.”

Una bristled. “I do not think he has any faults!” she found herself saying defensively. “Not any serious ones, in any case.”

Her father-in-law seemed at a momentary loss for words. “You are very newlywed,” he remarked dryly, after an awkward silence.

“Yes, we are,” Armand agreed cheerfully, coming to her rescue. She hoped he had only heard the latter part of their exchange. “Are you ready, my love? Night is falling.”

Una collected her cloak from the hovering servant, and they made their way out of the gloomily-lit hall.

“Thank the gods that’s over with … excruciating conversation and unpalatable food,” Armand said breezily as soon as they were out of the door and heading for the stables. “We need not consider ourselves duty bound to visit again for at least a month.”

Una breathed out. “It was not so very bad as all that.” He made no response and she bit her lip. “Armand?” she said on impulse.

“Yes?”

“Is there any special reason we are not disclosing my true identity to your family?”

He looked confused for a moment. “What do you mean?”

“About my being a … Northerner,” she finished lamely.

He was quiet a moment. “You are Lady Una de Bussell now,” he said with a twist of his lips. “And there is no secrecy about the fact.”

“So, your father would not be very angry if he knew my background?”

“No. Why do you ask?”

“The King mentioned that the De Bussells have always been loyal to the Argent throne.”

Armand snorted, tugging her toward the stables. “Is that what he told you? My great-grandfather was a champion it’s true, but my father has not been to court in over forty years. Henry only ever went once, to be presented. If you hadn’t noticed, my family is a pack of country yokels these days. House de Bussell has sunk into rural obscurity.” He squeezed her hand. “You need have no fear whatsoever on that score.”

Looking at his warm smile, Una found that by some miracle, she was reassured and answered it with one of her own.

He laughed. “Now tell me, what did the old man say to get you so heated? I told you he was a damned cold fish.”

Una looked away in confusion. “I forget now,” she prevaricated.

He carried her fingers to his lips. “You must not cut up rough on my account. I know he doesn’t think much of me.”

“Then he is a fool,” Una burst out hotly.

“Una!” He swung her round to face him, and she saw he was laughing.

“If he does not know what a good, true friend and faithful companion you can be, then—,” she started, but he did not let her finish, snatching her up to kiss her lips soundly.

When he released her, there was a faint frown on his brow. “Friend and companion?” he echoed with some displeasure. I’m your husband, Una. Make no mistake about that.”

“I-I could not mistake the fact,” she assured him breathlessly, and he pinched her chin.

“Good, now let’s get home.”

*

Una woke late the next morning and found Armand had already risen. When she descended to the great hall, Janet told her he was with some new hands outside. “Peter told me they’re a right bunch,“ the garrulous maid confided. “He says—”

But Una was not to learn Peter’s opinion on the new recruits, for the housekeeper came in at that point and pinned Janet with an accusing look.

“If you’ll excuse me, milady,” Janet said hastily, dropping a curtsey and scurrying off. Una eyed the housekeeper with some exasperation. She could not warm to the woman, who seemed to have as much personality as a chair.