Page 48

G unnilde opened the letters after they ate, and found they were acceptance notes to the invitations she had sent out thus far at court. The Portstanleys, the Bardulfs, and the Gilchrists had all confirmed they would attend, as had Earl Vawdrey and his countess.

James read each note she passed him with a blank look on his face. She suspected he had forgotten all about their banquet by this point. “And finally, Lady Winifred Hawes says she will be pleased to attend,” Gunnilde read out, opening the last.

“Is she a lady-in-waiting?” Hal asked. “I’ve not heard of her.”

“No, she’s a very serious-minded young lady who loves books and learning,” Gunnilde responded. “And tippets,” she added, glancing down at her own snowy white sleeve streamers. She had been highly gratified about that.

“I had better set off,” James said after casting his eye dutifully over Winifred’s reply. He passed it back to Gunnilde. “Her penmanship is good, though not as neat as your own.”

To her embarrassment, Gunnilde found herself blushing at this tepid compliment. “Where are you going?” she asked, setting the acceptances down in a haphazard pile.

“To Master Gregory’s. I want to spend the day working in the music room.”

Gunnilde bit back a wild impulse to ask if she could accompany him. Probably the last thing he wanted was her cluttering up the place while he was trying to compose. “Did you say that Master Gregory lives with his daughter?” she asked as he set a hat upon his head.

“Yes, his daughter, Justina, keeps house for him.”

“And is she married?” Suddenly it was imperative that Gunnilde knew this.

“She was married to a farrier at one point,” James replied, crinkling his brow. “I do not remember seeing him in a good while though, and she goes by her father’s family name so...” He shrugged.

“Oh.” She did not know if she was reassured by that or not.

He approached her with a slightly self-conscious air and lifted her hand, kissing her wrist and holding it for just a little longer than was strictly necessary.

Gunnilde’s spirits rose. Words appeared to tremble on his lips.

She held her breath. At this moment Kit cleared his throat and James seemed to snap out of it, releasing her and taking his leave without more ado.

Hal swiftly volunteered to accompany Gunnilde to the Queen’s rooms that morning, and though she initially suspected it was because he wished to catch the eye of some lady or other, it soon became apparent he had another motivation.

“Had a letter from our father this morning,” he started portentously once they had left the courtiers’ quarters behind them. He winced. “He’s cutting up rough, truth be told.”

“Over my marriage?” Gunnilde’s heart sank though she was not entirely surprised to hear this. Father could be difficult at times.

“Yes,” Hal agreed. “His nose is properly out of joint. It’s mostly bluster but he’s saying the gates of Payne Manor are barred against to you at present.” He cast her a sympathetic look. “He’ll likely be over it in a couple of months, you know what he is like.”

Gunnilde huffed. “You would think he would be glad of the fact I’ve a husband now. He certainly did precious little to bring my married state about!”

“I know,” Hal agreed. “And it’s not as though Wycliffe is a poor prospect. He’s pretty decent, all told.”

Gunnilde felt the color creeping into her cheeks. “You approve of him for a brother-in-law?” she asked in a carefully casual tone.

“Aye, I do,” Hal agreed absently. “He’s not who I would have chosen for you, mind, but you could have done a lot worse.”

As Hal had already told her of his own candidates for the role, Gunnilde disregarded this as a valid criticism. “I myself was not initially convinced we were ideally suited, but since then, we have rubbed along quite admirably together.”

Her tone sounded stifled to her own ears, for she did not want Hal to know the fresh turn her feelings had taken. He might think her fickle or simply dazzled by the male beauty of James’s face and form. She cast a sidelong look at his face, but her brother did not look unduly critical of her words.

“Aye, you’ve both been sensible and made the best of it,” he agreed readily enough.

Strangely, his words did not please her. She would have preferred a ringing endorsement of their compatibility but perhaps that was too much to hope for. “Yes,” she agreed flatly.

“Conway would likely not have made you much of a husband, in truth,” Hal continued consideringly. “His mother and sister have the sway of him, and you would have had a battle on your hands to rank higher with him than them. I know you and Mildred were always friends but...”

“Muriel,” Gunnilde corrected him. “His sister’s name was Muriel.”

“But she always liked to have the upper hand of things, did she not?”

Hal was strangely perceptive at times. Muriel had indeed always been the leader and Gunnilde her follower.

“It’s been an age since I spent any time with her,” she sighed.

“Those girlhood days seem an age ago. Since her marriage she has not bothered to correspond with me at all. I invited her and Sir Christopher to my banquet, but I doubt whether they will attend. They are not much at court it seems.”

“You have other friends now, in any case,” Hal said dismissively. Did she? Gunnilde considered this. She wished Eden was at court. “You will invite your fellow ladies-in-waiting I expect.”

“Oh, them.” She could not muster much by way of enthusiasm.

“Estrilda would certainly attend,” he said airily. “And perhaps Emma Thackeray.”

Emma Thackeray? Gunnilde looked at him out of the corner of her eye. Was this a new favorite of his? “Oh yes? I will have to invite them, then. What say you to Mistress Stanhope?”

“A most amiable girl,” he replied at once. “But I say you should ask ’em all! Why not? The more the merrier, I say.”

Gunnilde gave a laugh. “I can see why you’re so popular, Hal.”

“That’s better,” he said approvingly. “Now you look like your old self. You were too quiet at table. Not really ill, are you?”

“No, I just don’t feel very excited about the banquet anymore. I hope the Conways don’t come,” she admitted in a rush. “I don’t really care about seeing them again, even if the Queen does desire it.”

Hal looked surprised by this, but when he opened his mouth it was not to question the Queen’s motivations but to ask if Sir Ned would receive an invite.

“Sir Ned?” Gunnilde prevaricated, as though she could scarcely recall him to mind.

“You did not seem terribly friendly toward him last night at supper. It was not just I that noticed it.”

Gunnilde was startled. “Really? I had no idea that I might seem unfriendly!”

Hal cleared his throat, “Well...” he said feebly.

“I have been nothing but polite to Sir Ned!”

“ Icily polite.”

“We are not on such terms that I should be warmer,” she responded coolly.

“But you’re nice to everyone,” Hal pointed out. “So, it looks most particular when you’re so cool with him.” He took a deep breath. “Is there anything that I should know about? Only, Kit thought I should ask you in case he has ever overstepped or done aught amiss.”

“Nothing of the kind!” she protested, turning bright red. Unfortunately, she could see her reaction had stoked rather than quieted Hal’s vague suspicions.

“Because if he has ever acted in any way untoward, then I should know about it,” Hal said direly.

“It is just...I happened one time to overhear some less-than-complimentary remarks he made about me,” Gunnilde confessed.

“Remarks?” Hal paused, his eye kindling. “What kind of remarks?”

Gunnilde was alarmed to see his reaction. She did not want Hal brawling with a fully grown knight! “Oh, it was naught, really,” she assured him. “Merely Sir Ned felt that Eden was deliberately throwing me into his path at Vawdrey Keep and he found it a little wearing.”

“Oh.” Hal paused. “And was she?”

Gunnilde felt her face get hot. “Yes, perhaps,” she admitted in a small voice.

“Ah.” Hal relaxed. “I suppose I can hardly take exception in that case.”

“No indeed,” she agreed faintly, avoiding his eye.

“It’s only because I am currently acting as his squire that I speak to you about this, Gunnilde,” he said. “Otherwise, I would not care if you consigned the fellow to the pits of hell.”

Gunnilde pondered this and saw her brother’s point. “I did not mean to make things awkward for you, Hal,” she said truthfully. “I will...try and be more civil to Sir Ned.”

“Lord, don’t do that!” Hal begged. “You’re already terrifyingly civil. Instead, why don’t you aim to be a little easier in his company.”

Gunnilde fought down her instinctive response. “Very well, brother,” she said instead.

“There’s a good girl.” Hal clapped her on the back. “I’ll leave you now,” he said, for they had reached the Queen’s apartments.