“Better?” he asked.
“Thank you, my lord.” She dared not look at Sir Althalos, nor Angus, nor the assembled soldiers below her. When would this ordeal end?
Otto returned to his own place, but she felt the force of his gaze still upon her, while Angus and Gaius looked studiously away.
“There are no other women here,” Otto announced, as if newly surprised by their absence. “I apologize for it, Ariana. It is only right that you should have female company.”
She inclined her head. “Please, do not trouble on my account.”
Otto waved his hand expansively. “It is no trouble, and it is no less than your due. We have been the preserve of men since my mother’s death and I’m sure our manners are the worse forit.” He paused for a moment as Angus spluttered his agreement. “My father did not encourage distractions, but there are noble ladies, wives and daughters of our knights, who we could invite to the castle,” he floundered, clearly unsure what women might do when left alone together.
Ariana smiled her thanks, carefully masking her fears. “That would be most pleasant.”
“Good.” Otto’s face was transformed by his smile. “Robin.” He clicked his fingers towards his page. “See that Lady Elspeth and Mistress Lucietta receive an invitation to dine with us tomorrow.”
Lady Elspeth and Mistress Lucietta, Ariana recited their names in her head. Names which told her nothing about the women she would meet. Would they become kind, supportive confidantes, like Chiara back home in Kenmar? Or would they snipe and snigger behind her back, like so many others in Sir Leon’s castle?
She shook herself out of her reverie to find Althalos’s cold eyes set upon her, a small smile playing over his lips. What lapse of etiquette had she displayed now?
Ariana pressed a napkin to her lips, determined to remain an object of ridicule no longer. She raised her chin and sought out Otto’s gaze. “Forgive me, husband, but I find myself out of sorts. I will retire early.” She pushed back her chair and stood from the table, before any of the men assembled could react.
Otto was the first to his feet. “I shall accompany you,” he said, making Ariana’s heart leap.
But Althalos was also out of his chair and lifting a restraining hand to his nephew. “I will not hear of it, my lord. I shall escort Lady Ariana. Pray, be seated now and finish your meal.”
Ariana pressed her lips together, silencing any plea for Otto’s support. Althalos could hardly insist on accompanying her allthe way back to her chamber. What harm could another minute in the man’s odious company do her?
She inclined her head to Otto, Angus and Gaius, the elderly knight, allowing Althalos to take her arm and lead her down the wooden steps of the dais. With her eyes fixed on the arched doorway and freedom, Ariana cared less about the keen appraisal of the men as they paraded through the great hall. Soon she could close her chamber door and pull her hair free of its ridiculous trappings.
She turned to face Althalos as soon as they passed into the stone-flagged entrance hall. Standing beneath the mighty Darkmoor coat of arms, she pulled herself up to her full height.
“I bid you good evening, Sir Althalos.”
She expected him to bow and take his leave, but instead he held tightly to her arm, keeping her prisoner by his side.
“I am surprised you agreed with such good grace,” he announced, cold eyes raking her over. Making her feel foolish and worthless, as was no doubt his intent.
She could wrench her arm free and walk away. He could hardly chase after her. But after the scene on the dais, Ariana had no wish to create another.
She swallowed; aware she was walking into his trap. “Agreed to what?”
Althalos smiled. “Why, to the earl installing his whore here in Darkmoor Castle, right under your very nose.”
Chapter Six
The morning sunlightfiltered through the mullioned windows of the castle solar, casting bright patterns onto the walnut desk and dark shadows onto the tapestried walls. Otto sat in the large, ornately carved chair that had once belonged to his father. His long fingers drummed an impatient tattoo on the desk as he tried to work out his next move.
He had spent a restless night, tossing and turning in his bedchamber with the whispered words of his young page echoing clearly through his mind.
“Sir Althalos has told the countess that you are installing your whore here in the castle.”
Such a rage gripped him that he had risen from the dais and strode from the great hall, with no thought to the scores of men watching the family drama play out. In that moment, Otto wanted only to find his uncle and grip him by his scrawny neck until the man apologized. But by the time he reached the inner courtyard, there was no sign of either Althalos or his bride.
It had come as no surprise to him that Althalos sought to undermine his relationship with Ariana. His uncle was a cold-hearted, cruel man who enjoyed making others squirm. Otto was sure that Althalos’s intentions were purely to bring the new Countess of Darkmoor down a peg or two, but the question remained, how should he be punished?
Ifhe should be punished.
Otto had spent enough time with his new bride to understand that she was no simpering maid in need of a protector. She could fight her own daily battles, as he had already been pleased to witness, but in questioning Otto’s fidelity and undermining his authority, Althalos had gone too far.
