Page 81 of The Consolation Prize

When they finally reached the bottom, Armand waited with bated breath for the sick feeling of relief to subside, so he could once again breathe easy. Watching Una raise a shaky hand to her face and swipe her eyes made something inside him snap. Suddenly he felt a tide of feeling so strong, that he grabbed her upper arms in a biting grip, and yanked her forward against his chest, holding her tight and breathing deeply against her hair. He met Walker’s gaze over the top of her head for an instant, before the other man nodded. Armand responded in kind and then it seemed the spell of heavy silence around them was lifted.

An impromptu smattering of applause broke out among their household huddled around the foot of the tower. Armand glanced over and saw someone had spread their cloak over the dead body.

“Armand?” Una asked in muffled tones from against his chest. He squeezed her harder, not willing yet to loosen his hold of her.

Approaching footsteps made him look up to see Otho and Rose had reached the bottom. Otho’s expression too was foreboding in the extreme. Strangely enough, that fact made Armand feel a little better. Once they stood on the ground, Otho crossed his arms and stepped back, allowing Rose to get swept into first Janet and then Mrs. Brickenden’s capable arms. Rose had a look of bewilderment on her face when she was hailed as Una’s savior.

“Where’s Abelard?” Armand heard Rose ask plaintively. Peter stepped forward with the little dog and Rose cheered up at once, reaching for him.

“I should like to check on Abelard too,” Una said in a small voice. “He was injured trying to protect me from Waleran.”

It took a ridiculous amount of effort for Armand to relinquish his grip and permit her to take those two steps from his side and run her hands over the little dogs squirming body. “I think his side is bruised,” she said in a low voice to Rose, her hand hovering over his ribs. “Here.”

“Just a little sore,” Rose agreed. “I can put my Granny’s remedy on it and bring the swelling out.”

Armand’s gaze met Otho’s. “Let’s get them back to the house now,” he suggested. Otho nodded and Armand reached for Una, tugging her resolutely into in his wake. He was irritated to find a crowd following close on their heels, all babbling with barely suppressed speculation. He sped up, and felt Una struggling beside to match his pace.

“Armand—”

“Not a word Una,” he cut in tightly. “I’m warning you.” He tightened his grip involuntarily on her and heard her gasp, before forcing himself to relax his hold. The contact helped. Just a bit. It made the taste of death recede. He knew instinctively he had to keep his hands on her until his murderous mood dissipated.

“I am quite well,” replied Una softly, shooting him a troubled look.

“No, you’re not,” he growled angrily. “Someone just tried to kill you and I nearly let them!” He was almost shaking with fury.

“It’s not your fault—,” she started, but when she caught sight of the expression on his face, she lapsed into bewildered silence. There was a wary look in her eye, which was probably why she was holding her tongue now. She wasn’t stupid.

He stopped abruptly and swung her up in his arms. “Stop struggling,” he warned her grimly, though she hadn’t made any move to resist. Once they reached the house, he turned to confront the crowd. “Everyone,” he announced loudly, and the conversation hushed at once, as everyone looked at him expectantly. “Walker and Otho here will brief you as to why this man wanted to end your mistress’s life. If any of you feel you no longer wish to remain in our service, then you can pack your things and leave before the morrow.”

Everyone stared back at him open-mouthed. Otho shot him an exasperated look, while Walker merely looked amused. Armand set Una on her feet and hustled her halfway up the first flight of stairs before she’d even had a chance to draw breath.

14

Una’s heart sank as they mounted the staircase. For some reason, Armand was angry with her. Blindingly angry. She could feel it pulsing off him in waves. His fingers clutched at her waist sporadically, not in a comforting gesture, but rather as if he was making sure of her substance. She shivered slightly in dismay. But why was he so mad? She bit her lip and noticed his knuckles were white from where they clutched the bannister. Gently she reached out and touched his fingers in what she hoped was a conciliatory gesture.

“Don’t!” he burst out, and she tried to turn back to look at his face, but he tightened his grip on her and prevented her. “Face forward,” he ground out.

She froze. He was blaming her, she realized with dismay. He thought it was her fault! She felt a spurt of rebellion along with a pinch of pain. It was grossly unfair. She tried to stand straight and stiff on her step, trying to hold herself away from him, but he yanked her back roughly.

“Don’t!” he repeated, his voice sounding raw. His arms tightened around her like steel bands. What in heaven’s name was wrong with him? She forced herself to relax back against him and felt his hold loosen infinitesimally. It began to dawn on her that she was in serious trouble. By the time they reached the top of the stairs, she was fighting to remain calm.

It only made it worse when she got a glimpse of his face as he dragged her up the top step, his fingers biting into her wrist as he maneuvered along the dark-paneled corridor.

“It is a little hard on Otho to leave him to clear up that mess,” Una said, lifting her chin. “It’s probably the last thing he feels like going into right now.”

Armand ignored her, wrenching open the door to their bedchamber and bundling her inside. Once he’d shut the door behind them, he let his gaze sweep over her, narrowing his eyes to mere slits. “What the fuck did you think you were doing up there?” he hissed at her furiously.

Una stared at him. She opened then closed her mouth in astonishment. “Are you trying to give me a fucking heart attack?” he snarled nastily. To her surprise, Una heard herself give a slight sob as she shook her head. A tear sliding down one cheek. It didn’t seem to appease him, not one bit.

“Take off your dress,” he ground out, pushing her into the middle of the room. Una stared at him a moment, before reaching for her laces. He wrenched the door back open and strode out of the room, bellowing down the stairs for hot water. She had barely started unlacing when he reappeared behind her and started yanking open her gown.

“You’re tearing it,” she burst out in alarm at a loud rip of material. He didn’t answer but carried on pulling and tugging until it fell in a pile at her feet.

“It hardly signifies, since I never want to see you in this gown again,” he said tightly. Then he spun her around and glowered down at her.

“What do you do when your life’s at risk, Una, and I’m not there to protect you?” His voice was silky and calm now and for some reason that set the already tinkling alarm bells into a clanging peal.

“Um, well …” She gazed up at him, clutching at her bare upper arms. She knew her thin shift concealed very little.