Page 52 of The Consolation Prize

Anne opened her mouth to hiss back at him, but Janet chose this moment to come sailing in from the kitchen with a tray of ale and milk for the children. Anne swallowed her words as Janet set their refreshment down in the midst of a suit of armor, curtseyed, and then retreated back to the kitchen.

“At least someone here knows what’s due to a guest!” Anne snapped, reaching for the milk jug. “Toby! Joan! Come and take some milk!” Once the children had dribbled milk all over themselves and the floor, they returned to their game under the table. His sister poured out ale for the two of them and regarded Armand thoughtfully over the rim of her cup.

“Muriel told me that you were pawing and fondling your bride the entire meal, in such a fawning manner it quite turned their stomachs.”

Armand nearly spat out his ale but managed to gulp it down before going off in a coughing fit. Gods, Muriel must have the most uptight views that he had ever heard of! He almost pitied Henry. “They burst in on us, unannounced,” he answered with as much dignity as he could muster, wiping his mouth with his sleeve. “And we are newly wed.”

Anne regarded him with interest. “So, it’s a love match, is it?” she said smugly. “I knew you’d go off the deep end, one of these days. It was bound to happen. Muriel said she’s wildly extravagant, without a practical thought in her head. Says she’ll bankrupt you within a twelvemonth.”

“Oh, Muriel said that, did she?” He rallied. “Well, Muriel’s wrong.”

“Well, well, look at you springing to her defense, brother. I never thought I’d see the day! Armand de Bussell rushing to defend a lady’s reputation.”

“So glad I can afford you some entertainment,” he muttered through slightly clenched teeth.

“Roger said you were done up like a regular coxcomb to impress her. Parading round in gold chauses like a courtier.”

“Only one leg was gold,” Armand corrected her testily, before realizing that didn’t sound much better.

Anne’s eyebrow rose. “Who is she? Some squire’s daughter from those barbarous tournaments you will insist on frequenting. Or did you finally get caught in the parson’s trap by a designing widow?”

“That’s enough Anne—,” he started, when they both heard a step on the stair. He held up his hand for silence, and at that moment a cascade of falling silver salvers rang out deafening them all for several seconds. When the ring of metal faded, a child’s loud wails started up in the far corner, causing even more of a din. Anne jumped up from her seat and went flying across the room in search of her progeny.

Armand closed his eyes an instant, then looked up and saw Una stood in the entrance of the room, wearing a becoming gown of blue silk with a simple fitted bodice and elaborate sleeves, slashed to show the crisp white of her underrobe.

Her hair was only loosely braided and looped over her shoulder, he guessed because it was still damp, but it made her look quite girlish, without its usual arrangement. When her eyes sought him out, he smiled at her and extended his hand without thinking. She came to him immediately and as he drew her down beside him, surprised him by leaning forward to press her lush mouth to his.

That was when he felt that strange sensation again, like a surge of blood rushing through his chest. Immediately, he forgot all about Anne’s irritating visit and found moving himself seeking a second touch of those sweet lips against his. He even closed his eyes for a few seconds to savor it. Then another child started bawling and he returned to earth with a bump, quickly turning his head to find his sister staring at him from the other end of the room, one infant on her hip and another clutching at her skirts.

“Anne,” he said unevenly. “This is my wife, Una. Una, this is my sister, Anne and her delightful children,” he added dryly. “Who seem determined to put dents in all our plate.”

Una stood up immediately. “I’m delighted to meet you, Anne,” she said with a brief curtsey. “I’ve very much looked forward to meeting Armand’s twin.”

A look of surprise crossed over Anne’s face as she returned the gesture. “Oh, he’s told you about me, has he? Good of him!” Armand could see her eyes appraising Una with open speculation, and he felt a stab of something unpleasant and unfamiliar jolt him to his core. He wondered for a moment what it even was. He struggled to put a name to it, he felt so wholly unaccustomed to it. A sort of anxiousness or trepidation was the closest he could come to it.

He sent a look of dark warning in Anne’s direction as he circled an arm about Una’s waist. There was no way in hells he was leaving Una alone with his meddlesome sister.

“Is that your dear little boy?” Una was asking. “Armand told me he was an uncle. It looks like he has bumped his head. Can we get him something from the kitchens to help with the swelling?” She would have taken a step forward, but Armand’s restraining arm prevented her.

“This is my son, Toby,” Anne admitted grudgingly. “And this my daughter, Joan.”

“I’m very pleased to make their acquaintance,” Una said, smiling encouragingly at the two children, who were now subdued after the commotion they had caused and giving an entirely false impression of shyness.

“Perhaps we could get them some fruit from the garden,” Una said doubtfully. “I’m afraid we don’t have any comfits or treats at present, as we have only just engaged a cook.”

“They’ve had milk,” Armand pointed out. He privately thought neither child deserving of reward.

“How kind of you,” his sister said suddenly, with an ingratiating smile that immediately put Armand on his guard. “Are you fond of children, Una?”

“I … that is, yes,” Una answered, flushing slightly. Armand’s head turned sharply to look at her. Was she?

“Come now, Toby,” his sister wheedled. “Would you not like to go and greet your Aunt Una and welcome her into the family?”

“No! No!” Toby yelled, burying his head in his mother’s shoulder.

“I will,” piped up Joan, tripping forward with a gummy smile. Surely, she should have teeth by now? Armand thought, noticing the child had nothing but bare gums at the front. When she reached Una, she angled up her head and screwed up her face. Armand regarded her with bewilderment, but Una seemed to realize what was due and bent down to kiss the child on the cheek.

Joan turned back to send a smug look at her brother over her shoulder. “You see, Toby, I can do it,” she caroled. “I’m a good girl.”