The Consolation Prize (Brides of Karadok Book 3)

by Alice Coldbreath

  “A hat?” she looked at him quizzically, wondering if he was merely trying to keep her busy instead of worrying over impending Northerners. “Only … I received the distinct impression that you did not favor the hat,” she admitted.

  He frowned. “When?”

  “At that first inn.” She paused. Pointing out he had seemed happy to lose it did not seem terribly diplomatic. “You did not seem devastated by its loss,” she replied instead, with tact.

  Armand lowered the lid of the trunk. “I think it’s a bit much that I’m expected to stand by hatless,” he said sternly, “While Fulcher swaggers around, bragging it is the best made hat he ever owned.”

  Una blinked. “Fulcher said that?” she uttered, feeling suddenly a lot more charitable toward the weasel-faced Fulcher.

  “He did. He is inordinately proud that he owns a garment made by a princess’s fair hands. Meanwhile my own wife refuses to make me another,” Armand said in an aggrieved tone, climbing to his feet.

  “Of course I’ll make you another!” Una protested. Armand crossed the room to kiss her briefly on the lips. “I’ll see you at supper,” he said, and Una realized he must be taking the new men’s training very seriously if he meant to be about it all day.

  She spent that afternoon in the solar and sent for Rose to keep her company. Mrs. Brickenden pulled a face, but Una was firm. “Rose has duties as my companion to fulfill also,” she told the tight-lipped woman. “I would have you put out word in the village that we require another servant to pick up the buttery and kitchen duties.”

  When she imparted this to Rose, however, the girl did not seem as pleased as Una would have expected. In contrast to that morning, she looked suddenly pale and wan. She helped carefully cut the pattern pieces with Una, but was quiet and subdued and declined the opportunity to demonstrate her skill with the harp.

  Una left the window, where she had been watching Armand and Otho briefing the new men and returned to the pieces of fabric she had already cut out and left ready for sewing. “I have not yet heard you play.”

  “I’m putting that behind me, milady,” Rose said, looking up from where she was kneeling, smoothing the fabric out. She gave a sad smile. “And all such frivolous things.”

  “Is all well with you, Rose?” Una asked with sudden concern. “You do not feel ill?”

  Rose shook her head. “I am quite well,” she assured her, but Una saw how Abelard circled the girl and sat at her feet gazing up at her with concern. She was not the only one to notice Rose’s spirits had plummeted since that morn.

  “I do hope that Master Roger’s apology did not distress you,” Una ventured, resuming her seat opposite Rose. She was reassured to see a look of genuine surprise flit over her face.

  “Oh no, he apologized most prettily,” Rose answered with apparent truthfulness, and they spent the afternoon quietly sewing the pieces for a replacement black and gold hat for Armand and a new blue tunic.

  At supper, Una noticed a good many new faces along the table, which seemed to be filling up more at every meal. These assorted men had a more hardened edge, though they were as country-born and local as Peter. It did not take Una more than a few assessing glances to realize they had a look about them she recognized well. It was one born of experience. Soldiers, she thought and glanced at Armand who was seating himself next to her. Armand had employed soldiers to work on their estate.

  It was not that they were grim or dour, for when Armand stood and gave a short speech welcoming the new men to his table, they sent up a rousing cheer. When Mr. Beverley presented a large game pie and a side of roast beef, a spontaneous round of applause went up that made the cook quite flustered, as he took his bow.

  No, they were not morose Una thought, but that they were determined to seize on any celebration or good fortune that came their way, for they knew too well the harsh reality of bad times. Armand bade the cups to be filled with wine for a toast and Lynwode was proposed and drunk to.

  “Everyone seems to be settling in well,” Armand said, as he waved aside the task of carving to Otho and instead poured Una another goblet of wine. “What say you?”

  Una accepted the cup and took a sip. “I agree,” she said with satisfaction. “I liked your speech and the fact our table is growing by the day. ’Tis only Mrs. Brickenden I am not yet sure of.” She eyed the expressionless housekeeper who was out of earshot.

  “What do you find amiss?” he murmured back, arching a black brow at her.

  “She is too distant. Too reluctant to share any village news with me, or discuss her family or—”

  “She is from round these parts?” Armand asked, suddenly sharp.

  “Oh yes,” Una assured him. “For several generations I believe.” He relaxed. “Though I had to thank Janet for that fact.”

  “Well, if Mrs. Brickenden talks too little, then Janet talks too much,” Armand responded dryly. “You should not encourage her.”

  “I like Janet,” Una said staunchly, glancing down to where the merry-eyed servant was teasing bashful Peter. “Why should I not enjoy some local flavor in my household?”

  He paused to consider this, taking a swig of wine. “In truth, there is no reason in the world, if you enjoy it. Did you send your message to Anninghurst?” he asked. “About the coat of arms?”

  “Not yet,” Una admitted. “I thought I had better write an accompanying letter to Muriel explaining why I wanted it.”

  He winced. “Ah yes, she’s so tight-fisted, it’s not likely she’d hand over anything without one. We now have a gardener’s boy named Wat,” he said, gesturing in the direction of a youth with straw-colored hair. “He can run it over once your letter is done.”

  “I had the idea I might try and fashion Muriel a velvet hood as a gift,” Una confided. “But I thought I had better make one for Anne at the same time, or your sister might take umbrage. Rose wields a neat needle and can help me in my task.”

  “You think of everything,” Armand replied. “But make sure you do not neglect your priority when it comes to keeping family members happy.”

  “My priority?” she met his laughing eyes. “And by that, I take it you mean my lord and master?”

  His expression, which had been amused, swiftly changed to something else entirely. Leaning in, he quickly captured her lips with his own and lingered there. Another cheer went up from the rowdy end of the table and Una found herself blushing when he drew back.

  “Who else?” Armand murmured and took her hand in his. Una’s heart was beating hard for the rest of the meal.

  When Una retired upstairs, there was already a bath waiting, for Armand’s at least had been a day of physical exertion. Una washed first but did not tarry as she knew her husband was having some final words with Otho below. She was just donning her shift when he entered the room, making straight for his bath.

  “Shall I come and help you wash?” she offered, willing enough.

  “Nay, I can scrub off my grime, never fear.” He made short brisk work of stripping and washing while Una draped her drying cloth over a chair by the fire. “Get into bed,” he urged her. “You’ll get cold.”

  Una climbed into bed, with some reluctance. She would have liked to fuss over him as he had with her evening before, but he did not seem in the mood to linger over his bath tonight. A pity. She remembered she owed him kisses from the previous day and wondered how to deliver them. She did not think she would ever have that ease of manner that meant spontaneous displays of affection would come readily to her. She could only hope that in time she might grow better at it.

  She watched him rub a cloth vigorously over his muscular shoulders and did not wonder that his sister had told her that he had always been successful with the fairer sex. How she wished she knew how to flirt and flatter as he did! She knew herself to be wretchedly stiff and unaccustomed to such things. Would he eventually grow tired of a wife who had not the smallest notion how to play coy or coquettish?

  The bed dipped and Armand slid betwee
n the covers with a sigh. He scooted against her at once, and Una’s heart caught at how naturally he reached for her.

  “Armand,” she said, before she lost her nerve, “shall we play dragon and the knight?” She was gratified by his look of surprised pleasure.

  “That’s an offer I don’t think I’ll ever decline,” he answered with a slow grin.

  That was an admission that could not help but give her confidence. She straightened her spine, shifting against the pillows. “You won’t slay my dragon this time,” she told him. “I have your measure, Sir Lusty Loins.” His lips trembled. “Don’t laugh,” she warned him narrowing her eyes. “For I mean to have the upper hand this time, I assure you.”

  His eyes kindled. “That sounds only fair,” he agreed, rolling onto his back. “Have at me then.” He patted his thigh as Una eyed him speculatively. He was naked beneath the sheets. Did she really have the nerve to do this? She took a deep breath and moved over to him.

  “I think I shall have to incapacitate you,” she mused, and his eyebrows shot up. She nodded thoughtfully. “Yes, my dragon must be permitted to have free reign over you,” she said placing a hand on his chest.

  “How would it be if I simply swore to keep my hands above my head?” he asked.

  She considered this. “If you think you can withstand it,” she agreed.

  “Withstand it?” he echoed.

  “My onslaught.” She could see him struggle to hide his smile at her words.

  “I believe I’ll stand firm,” he answered with a decided twinkle in his eye.

  I shall make you eat those words, she thought with sudden determination. “Very well, Sir Knight, if you are thus resolved.”

  He stretched his arms above his head. “How’s this?”

  Una looked him over, letting her eyes travel slowly from his handsome face, over his broad shoulders and impressive chest, down to where the sheets covered him. Slowly, she slid her hand down his muscular belly, until she drew the sheet down over his muscular thighs. Armand’s breathing hitched and his manhood grew stiff and swollen before her very gaze.

  “I believe I shall accept this charming tribute,” she said thoughtfully, and felt his eyes burning into her as she reached up and swiftly undid her braid, running her fingers through her veil of auburn hair. Only then, did she turn back to Armand, who was watching her appreciatively.

  “A very beautiful dragon,” he murmured, as his gaze roved over her. “But I won’t spare you all the same.”

  Una laughed softly. “Neither shall I, you,” she vowed, and leaned slowly forward, affording him a view of her breasts, which were threatening to spill over the neckline of her shift, as she swiftly straddled his lap until she sat squarely on his thick thighs, looking down at him.

  “Such a pretty knight,” she murmured. “I believe the King must have sent me his handsomest specimen. But I believe you have forgotten something.” She raised a finger to her lips. “Where is your trusty staff, Sir Lusty Loins?”

  Armand’s eyes gleamed. “Oh, it’s here, if you only know where to look.” His eyes dropped to the bold thrust of his erection as if she might need a clue. In truth she could hardly miss it.

  “Hmm,” Una said, letting her eyes follow his. Armand let out a grunt of surprise as she ran her hand over his cock, boldly making out his shape.

  “Ah yes, I see,” she murmured. “A formidable weapon indeed. I look forward to testing its mettle.”

  His breathing was coming rapidly now as his cock further thickened and lengthened in her grasp, practically knocking against her belly for attention. She remembered how he had tutored her in his sensitive spots before and ran her fingers over the bulbous head, before reaching down to lightly trace the sizeable hairy ballocks at their root.

  He shuddered and she halted, looking up quickly to check she was not doing anything he did not like. His face was flushed, and he had a tortured look on his face, but even with her inexperience, Una could tell he did not dislike the attention she was paying him at all.

  Now it was her turn to smile. She closed her hand around his shaft and lightly squeezed his pulsating length. He huffed out a breath and thrust his hips upward with a muffled oath.

  “Harder?” she asked, with a moment’s uncertainty.

  “Fuck, yes,” he groaned.

  Una gripped him more firmly and he gasped, squeezing his eyes shut, the muscles in his thighs and stomach, jumping as he craned toward her. Remembering how he had handled himself before now, she gave his shaft a firm pump that had him jerking upright.

  “Una!”

  She placed a firm hand on his chest, pushing him back down. “Ah-ah, Sir Knight. You said you would be able to withstand this, if you recall.”

  He was breathing raggedly, his eyes fixed to her face as she fluttered her fingers over the head of his cock, which was now slick with his fluids. He made a strangled noise in his throat as he placed his hands back under his head, submitting to her ministrations, though he was no longer relaxed, but primed and ready.

  “Wicked dragon,” he said thickly.

  Una smiled, for in truth, the way he said it sounded like a compliment. She slid her fingers, now slippery, back down his shaft and pumped his impressive length again and again until he made that noise in his throat that was something between a cry and a whimper. Armand’s eyes blazed and he threw his head back against the pillows. When she paused, it seemed he could not help but burst out, “Don’t stop! Ah gods.”

  “You forget,” she told him. “That I am not some willing maiden eager to please you, but a dragon who means to devour you.” She shifted back, retreating down his thighs, past his knees and he tensed as though to catch her back up again.

  “Where are you going?”

  She ignored his sharp words, instead peeling down the thin straps of her shift, pushing the neckline down, so that her breasts sprang free. Her actions seemed to have struck him silent apart from the rasp of his breath, but she did not dare look at Armand’s face as she rearranged herself over the top of him, lowering herself between his legs until her full breasts pressed into his hairy thighs.

  “Una,” he groaned, and she pinched his hip.

  “You keep forgetting the game,” she told him breathlessly. “Do you want me to stop?”

  He swallowed and shook his head. “No.”

  She leaned forward and blew softly on his cock and he gave another harsh groan. Una took a deep breath. She was actually going to do this. She knew men liked it. She had heard her the lewd, unguarded talk of the Northern soldiers often enough. And Armand put his mouth to her with every sign of pleasure, so she could not be wrong in this.

  She moved forward and taking his shaft in one hand, she ran her tongue along the underside of his turgid length. Dimly, she heard Armand’s choked cry and she repeated the action, letting her tongue linger over the raised vein she could feel there. When she reached the tip, she found more fluid had gathered there and without thinking darted her tongue there to taste him.

  He gave a muffled yell at that and fearing he would try to stop her, Una opened her mouth wide and closed it over the head of his cock, engulfing him in her mouth. She felt Armand jolt beneath her, and then he was sat bolt upright, his hands on her, urging her up his body.

  “I can’t stand anymore,” he said shakily when Una tried to protest. “You win, just let me inside you.”

  “Well, but—” She found herself dragged into his lap in a rather undignified fashion, with her breasts out and her hair spilling around her shoulders.

  “Gods,” he rasped, his eyes roaming over her hungrily. “You’re so—”

  Catching the expression on his face, Una felt like the most desirable woman in existence. He captured her lips in a kiss of sheer desperation, crushing his mouth to hers. Did they kiss last time they played this game? Then his fingers were between her legs and he was groaning again to find her wet for him.

  “Armand!” she gasped reproachfully for her lead role had clearly gone by the waysid
e now, as he lifted her thigh and urged her to straddle his throbbing staff. She knew a moment’s alarm when he thrust up and lodged deeply inside her. He felt extremely large from this angle. She winced and he stilled at once.

  “Una?”

  She moved tentatively on him and felt him ease further inside. “All is well,” she assured him. He remained still as she resettled over him, lowering herself, until they were both breathless and face to face, their nether hair intertwined. Then he leaned forward and kissed her, his hands in her hair. She could feel the sheer strength and eagerness in his body, yet still he held himself taut, even when she could feel the urgency thrumming through him.

  “Ride me now, Una,” he said, bouncing her on his cock, showing her the motion, he craved. “Bear down on me, my sweet. Use me for your pleasure.”

  There was no playful talk of dragons now, she thought, as one hand came to rest over the swell of her breast and the other squeezed her bottom. He was ready to burst and wanted her to reach her peak first. Una started the grinding motion he’d initiated, and he lowered his head to suck one nipple into his hot, wet mouth.

  Una moaned, clutching his head as his hand moved from her hip to slide between her legs and he concentrated his circling his thumb on that one sensitive spot between her legs that soon had her panting and gasping with need. Her movements became jerkier and less controlled as the excitement steadily built inside of her. Everything felt connected, Armand’s sucking mouth, the pad of his thumb, and the steady throb of his deep penetration, all of it spurred her higher and higher, until she finally with a cry, she blazed right up and burst in a shower of sparks behind her eyelids.

  Then and only then, did Armand roll her onto her back and drive into her four or five times before he joined her in sweet oblivion, collapsing on top of her with a loud groan. After a moment or two, Una found she could muster enough strength to lift a hand and stroke his brow.

  “I definitely came out on top in that encounter,” she said drowsily.

  “You really did,” he agreed in a gravelly voice, then raised his head from her breast with a slight frown. “Where did you learn to do that?” When she hesitated, he looked alarmed. “Don’t tell me I made you do it on our wedding night.”