Page 2

T wo Months Later

The Royal Court at Aphrany

“Who the hells is that girl anyway?” James Wycliffe asked his brother irritably.

“Girl?” Neville glanced around, smothering his yawn. “Which girl?”

“The one with all that tow-colored hair!”

Neville eyed him with surprise. “Not like you to notice girls,” he remarked, then took a look in the direction his brother was glowering. “She seems to be some connection of the Portstanleys. I think her name is Payne,” he said, the effort of remembrance causing a pucker between his brows.

“Appropriate,” James remarked acidly, causing his brother to look even more intrigued.

“Why? What has she done to irk you?” Neville directed a puzzled glance her way. “Looks an inoffensive sort of girl to me.”

Inoffensive? James thought with a hollow laugh. Nothing could be further from the truth! “I suspect she has some personal vendetta against me,” he muttered.

“Good Lord!” Neville looked even more startled.

“Why should she?” He turned about to give the girl another look.

“She has the reputation for being a most sympathetic listener. I’m sure I’m thinking of the right one.

Someone was speaking of her only the other day.

Said Mistress Payne had been disappointed in love at a young age or some such thing and now devotes herself to helping spurned lovers. ”

“Disappointed in love?” James echoed incredulously. “What rot. And as for a sympathetic listener, I’d wager she is merely collecting gossip.” Neville seemed amused by his cynicism. “Every time I try to pay court to Constance lately, she’s there, sticking her oar in and getting in the way.”

Neville gave a choked laugh. “Perhaps she’s vying for your attention, brother. You know how the ladies love to sigh over the perfection of your profile.”

James gave an impatient gesture. “It’s not that at all! The way she looks at me... Well, let us just say it is far from admiring.”

Neville guffawed. “Disapproves of you, does she? I wonder why? Your conduct has always been disappointingly staid.” He dug James in the side. “Found you out in some secret dishonor, has she?”

To his annoyance, James found himself coloring hotly. “Of course not!” he snapped, but the damage was done. Neville was intrigued. He should never have brought him along to this gathering. He could never depend on his younger brother to behave himself.

“Do you think that’s all her real hair?” Neville mused.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, you know ladies will sometimes employ a little artifice in these matters. With hair that color, at least half of it could be flax.” He laughed at James’s startled expression. “You really know so very little about women, brother.”

“Whereas you know altogether too much,” James retorted. “Who have you been talking to?”

“Did you not hear the Bishop of Badsbury bemoaning the fraudulent practice from his pulpit only last week? Fie, for shame! To think that I would pay closer attention to his holiness than you. Truly our roles have switched of late, you ogling women and me listening to bishops.”

James dismissed this with the contempt it deserved and returned to his current concern. “I think she is trying to put a spoke in the wheel,” he said, dropping his voice, “regarding Constance.”

For the first time, Neville looked alarmed. “No, really? Your betrothal? But why would she want to do a thing like that?”

“I don’t know, but I have a...bad feeling about her.”

“She is friends with Constance?”

“Lately they always seem huddled together sharing confidences.”

“Surely she would have introduced her new friend to you?”

James shrugged. “I believe she did, at some point.”

“You believe so?” Neville repeated disbelievingly. “Yet you never even bothered to learn the girl’s name! No wonder you made a poor impression.” He shook his head. “Maybe your handsome face failed to distract this one from damnable rudeness. It was bound to happen sooner or later.”

“I am not rude!” James did not bother to deny he was handsome. He was not vain, but his good looks had been commented on from a young age. He only wished his compositions shared equal fame.

Neville looked thoughtful. “Unfortunately for you, Mistress Payne must be more discerning than your average courtier.”

James snorted. “I don’t know where you got that impression. Just look at her!”

Neville cast a critical eye over the female. “Why, what’s amiss? It’s true she’s a little homely, but she makes the best of what the gods gave her, you have to give her that. She’s well-dressed enough and that hairstyle is really most up to date.”

“Well dressed?” James echoed. “Her surcoat is practically hanging off her in shreds it’s so...slashed about. Why, it shows off her—” Neville caught his eye, and James hastily changed the words he had been about to use. “Her undergown,” he amended swiftly, “to an almost unseemly degree.”

“My, my, you really have been taking a good look, haven’t you?” Neville commented with a smirk. “But as a matter of fact, open-sided surcotes are the very latest thing. They say the fashion originated in Kloberg.”

“Well, then it should have stayed there. It looks positively indecent.”

“Indecent?” Neville looked startled by his vehemence. “Come now, James. You must have seen some other courtiers wearing them that way.”

“Where?” James scanned the room. “I see no one else parading around with their gowns falling off them.”

“Not here ,” Neville huffed. “There is not a single person of fashion present in this dismal gathering. I’ve never been in a room with so many dullards all at once.”

James rolled his eyes. “There are several prominent courtiers present and many learned scholars.”

“Fusty old ones, you mean,” Neville muttered. “From the way she dresses, it seems Mistress Payne would like to run with a less sedate pack, and who can blame her? Not I.”

James snorted rudely. “You can determine much from a woman’s hair arrangement, it seems.”

“I can,” Neville agreed firmly. “So did the bishop. He said it a piece of great wickedness for women to dress their hair like horned beasts.”

“Horned...?” James turned to survey Miss Payne’s extraordinary hair arrangement again. “It does not look precisely like horns,” he said uncertainly, “but I agree it hardly appears seemly.”

“Lord, you’re starting to sound like a fussy old cleric yourself, brother!” Neville sighed. “Your looks are wasted on you. If I had been blessed with your height and features, I would not squander such a gift as you do.”

James ignored this. His brother had always favored the company of women, while James preferred that of books and music. “What else did he say on the subject?” he asked grudgingly.

“Who?”

“The bishop.”

“Oh, just a lot of prosing about forwardness and licentiousness in females. Tempting the menfolk from the path of virtue and all that.”

“I daresay she does,” James observed darkly. Neville’s eyebrows shot up. “I’ve observed her about court these past few days,” he admitted grudgingly. “Suffice to say, Mistress Payne does not conduct herself as a respectable maiden should.”

Neville made a choking sound which turned into a cough. “How so?” he asked, looking wildly curious.

“I am not about to besmirch her name,” James said coldly. “You will simply have to trust my word on this matter.”

Neville tutted, his gaze returning to Mistress Payne with renewed interest. “Well, well. Perhaps there is more to the lady than first appears. It is true, she is a buxom lass,” he pondered aloud.

“Some men like that. Not you, I know,” he said hastily as James opened his mouth to disparage this sentiment.

“Not everyone has your refined tastes, brother.

“Some of these knights are particularly crude and barbarous, and you know how they always flood to court at this time of year, with their rough speech and boisterous spirits. I daresay Mistress Payne will garner admirers enough if she continues to flaunt her plentiful hair and...person.”

James frowned. “That is hardly my concern.”

“Now that I think about it, I believe her name was mentioned in connection with that Fulsham business. Did you hear about his engagement with Mistress Linfield? Entered into without the guardian’s consent apparently but they got their own way in the end.

The scandal’s good as died down by now. I heard they’re living at Linfield Hall in married bliss. ”

“You mean, she encouraged a clandestine betrothal?” James asked with deep foreboding.

“Aye, that’s the sum of it. Apparently, she and the Linfield chit were thick as thieves at one time.

” When James remained disapprovingly silent, Neville leaned forward.

“Some say they put the cart before the horse and old Sir Joseph had no choice but to let them wed.” He slanted a knowing look at his brother.

It was wasted on James, who merely shrugged his shoulders.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Neville tsked. “That is because you do not pay enough attention to palace gossip.”

“I do not pay any attention to it,” James corrected him swiftly.

“You need not sound so pleased with yourself. Perhaps if you did, you would have a good deal more patrons beating down your doors.”

James gave a fatalistic sigh, suddenly weary of the conversation. “Perhaps you are right.”

“Certainly I am. If you would only concern yourself a little more with popularity and a little less with scrupulous respectability, I feel sure you would be more successful. I daresay this Mistress Payne is far merrier company than Lady Constance and her ilk. I don’t know why you subject yourself to such company. ”

“Yes, you do,” James responded shortly.

Neville’s expression instantly sobered. “Well, yes, I know why ,” he admitted in a low voice. “All the family do, and we appreciate your sacrifice. But must it be this heiress in particular? Answer me that?”