It was the first time he had expressed hostility towards his uncle and even as the words left his mouth, he half regretted them. Althalos may be a brute, but he was a brute with wisdom and experience to share. Not to mention a loyal following of well-armed, battle-honed fighting men. Were it not for his deliberate goading of Ariana, Otto would have bitten his tongue until Althalos saw fit to leave Darkmoor for his own, lesser estate.
But Althalos did not so much as flinch at Otto’s words. He considered his nephew with his head on one side, before swiftly swiveling on his heel.
“Very well,” he spoke over his shoulder, leaving the solar door open behind him.
Otto brought his fist crashing down onto the desk, frustration surging through his veins.
“Damn him to hell,” he swore again.
His blood was up and the silvery scar across his face began to throb. He had received the scar on one of his first outings in battle—when he was mayhap little older than young Benedict.For several days, it had refused to heal, causing their ageing apothecary to wring his hands and Ulric to search far and wide for a more talented physician. By the time Merek arrived in Darkmoor, Otto’s fever had been raging and hopes for his recovery had begun to fade. But Merek had closed the wound, staunched the bleeding, and restored him to health. These days, his scar only troubled him during times of high emotion.
Otto flung the parchment aside and rocked backwards in his chair. He knew he would find no further peace in the solar, no solace in work. Were it not for his implacable stance against Althalos, he would have stridden outside and plunged himself deep into a knights’ training session. Right now, there was nothing he would like more than to throw an axe against a far-off target or draw his sword against a worthy opponent.
Another image flashed across his mind. The lovely Elspeth Woodruffe, with her willowy limbs and ready smile. At one time, she would have happily offered him a form of solace.
Otto ground his teeth. Thinking on the matter, she was perchance not the best choice of companion for his young wife. But the woman was quick-witted and articulate, exactly the type to put Ariana at ease.Thathad been his sole consideration in the moment when he’d mentioned her name. He certainly had no designs on her now. God’s Bones, he was a better man than to go whoring after a one-time mistress while his wedding vows still echoed around the chapel.
His eyes flickered again to the window. A lovely morning, he confirmed. Why spend it stewing inside?
Energized, he leapt to his feet. He would take his horse and gallop down to the river, where the fresh air and rippling waters would chase away the black cloud that had gathered around him. Calling to his page, Otto walked from the room with long strides, already imagining the release he would feel when the horse gathered speed beneath him.
So caught up was he in this vision, that he failed to see the tall young woman standing hesitantly on the threshold of the solar. It was only when she scuttled backwards in alarm, his arm having made contact with the softness of her chest, that he realized who she was.
“Ariana,” he said, coming to an abrupt halt. “Forgive me, I did not see you there.”
“It was my mistake, my lord.” Her cheeks flushed pink as she straightened the deep blue skirts of her simple gown. Her hair was loose upon her pale shoulders. He liked the way it billowed around her. Unfashionable, maybe, but Otto had always preferred the natural look.
“Come now. You have every right to be outside my door. Is there something you desire?”
Her face was pained with indecision. “I was looking around the keep.”
He put his hands on his hips and considered her. “You have still not had the chance to explore?”
“Not properly.” She hesitated. “But to tell you the truth, I long to be outside on a day like this.”
“That’s exactly where I was going.” He clicked his fingers, gripped with new resolve. “Why don’t you accompany me?”
At once he saw that she wanted to agree, but nerves or propriety held her back. “Accompany you, my lord?”
“Accompany me,” he confirmed, then couldn’t resist teasing. “Do you worry that might be improper?” He nudged her with his shoulder and laughed down at her.
She bit down on her lip, her cheeks crimson. “I only…”
“Forgive me,” he repeated soberly. “I have had a trying morning, Ariana, and I long to be free of the tension building around my shoulders. It increasingly feels as though you are the sole person within these castle walls who wants nothing from me. Am I right?”
Her beautiful green eyes widened. “I don’t know, my lord.”
“Otto,” he corrected.
“Otto,” she mumbled.
He sighed. “A horseback ride down to the river. That is all I am offering, Ariana. A change of scene. A breath of fresh air.” He leaned closer. “The chance to spend an hour or two away from Sir Althalos.”
She couldn’t fully repress her smile. “That I would like, very much.”
“Come then.” Acting on impulse he reached down and took hold of her hand. “Let us waste no further time.”
*
