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J ames stared at the Queen. Surely, he had misheard her.

Seemingly picking up on his disbelief, Queen Armenal sat forward in her seat. “You will take her to wife forthwith for I have decided Mistress Payne will suit you admirably.” She nodded as though pleased with her pronouncement. “She will more than make up for that which you have lately lost.”

“I have lately lost an heiress , Your Majesty,” James pointed out. He could see at once she was not pleased with his response, but it was nothing less than the truth.

“That may be so,” she agreed graciously after a small pause, “but this one has an abundance of qualities to make up for this. Money is not everything, Sir James,” she said with the cool assurance of the very privileged.

The silence stretched as James reflected grimly that the Queen was fortunate enough to know nothing of family debts.

“To which qualities does Her Majesty refer?” James heard himself ask calmly, though all around him his carefully laid plans were crashing to the ground in ruins.

The only quality he could think of was her abundance of hair, though come to think of it, Neville had intimated that was likely supplemented.

“She will never fade into the background, that one,” the Queen said simply.

James agreed but he was far from convinced this was a good quality.

“She will no longer allow it,” she continued cryptically.

When he said nothing, she looked a little disappointed, then changed the subject.

“She has a father who hosts the tournaments. There must be money there,” she decided airily.

Who even was her father? James was fairly sure he had never been introduced. “I know nothing of her family connections,” he said stiffly.

“No more do I, but it turns out she is very closely acquainted with Viscountess Vawdrey, so that must suffice.” Was she? James did not think he had seen her in such company even once.

“Besides, I have decided I will give her a wedding present,” Armenal said grandly. She paused for dramatic effect. “I will make her a lady-in-waiting,” she announced, looking pleased with herself. “That will give your wife consequence and influence. What more can you ask for?”

James held his tongue, despite several things springing to mind. Only once the silence grew pronounced, did he ask quietly, “Do I have any choice in the matter, Your Majesty?”

“None,” the Queen replied briskly. “If you do not wish to give royal offence, which presumably you do not.”

As his income relied on his position at court, James closed his eyes briefly. “No, Your Majesty,” he admitted.

“You must admit there is a pleasing symmetry to your marrying Gunnilde after Sir Douglas, he ran away with the Lady Constance,” the Queen mused.

James seethed in silence. He supposed Sir Douglas must be one of the men he had seen Mistress Payne parading about court and whispering in corners with.

“Then I can consider the matter settled?” the Queen said, breaking into his thoughts.

“Settled?” James blurted, feeling panicked.

Surely to gods he was not expected to play up to and flatter this woman.

To express an admiration he did not feel and actually propose to her!

“What of the lady?” he asked desperately.

The recent memory of Mistress Payne’s hostile glances allowed him the tiniest flicker of hope.

She did not care for his society any more than he for hers.

“She will be led in this matter by her queen, I am quite sure of that,” Armenal uttered with such confidence that James’s hopes were instantly dashed. “With your permission, I will summon her, and we will see to the matter forthwith.”

Despite her talk of permission, Armenal did not even look to him for his confirmation.

Instead, she turned at once to some woman in purple who had been hovering in the background.

“Fetch her now, my good Magnatrude. Then run along to the royal chapel and find whoever is currently on duty there. Tell them there is a ceremony I need performing. We will be along presently to see that it is done.”

James stood frozen, despite his inner turmoil. What in the hells was happening? The Queen was humming to herself, a smile playing about her lips. There was something almost monstrous about the way she was toying with his life, like some kind of spoiled child with her puppets.

He had to avert his eyes for a moment, to rein in his thoughts. Words trembled on his lips that would be unwise, disastrous even to speak. He was not in control here, and he needed to remember that lest he lose his head altogether.

At least, he thought suddenly, he would not have to actively court this one. He knew instinctively that she would not have been satisfied with the kind of dry speeches he had delivered to Constance. She would have expected effort. Effort James had neither the ability nor the inclination to expend.

His shoulders relaxed infinitesimally. There was that one small comfort.

Then, too, he had been rather dreading the intimacies of marriage with Constance.

Before she ran off, he had owed it to his bride to be always courteous and considerate.

At least with this one, there was no need for pretense and civility.

He could be wholly his own horrible self.

Gunnilde Payne would just be another member of his godsawful draining family for him to endure and nothing more.

Moreover, she had brought such treatment upon herself with her shameless interference in his affairs.

The thought was an oddly fortifying one.

He had known all along that he would be a complete failure in the role of husband.

Her appearance in the doorway startled him out of the cold comfort of his thoughts.

“Ah, Gunnilde, come in,” hailed the Queen. “We find ourselves in an awkward situation this morn. Perhaps you are unaware of it, but Lady Constance hath eloped in the night with Sir Douglas Farleigh.” She paused, waiting to see the effect upon Gunnilde.

It was not pronounced. She turned rather red and squared her shoulders. “I did not know,” she said unconvincingly. “And indeed, I am very surprised to hear of it.”

The Queen smiled a pitying smile. It was plain she did not believe a word of it either. Mistress Payne bore a faintly guilty air however much she tried to shrug it off. She spared him a fleeting glance, then refocused her attention on the Queen.

What had she done with her extraordinary hair today?

he wondered. It was rolled up like those puffed sweet breads the street vendors sold.

Most distracting. He wondered that she could even hear through all that hair heaped on each side of her head.

Instead of wearing the large buns behind her ears like a sensible woman, hers were worn so far forward they framed her face.

Belatedly, he realized he had lost the thread of conversation, for the Queen was raising her voice to attract his attention. “I have been speaking with Sir James,” she said loudly, “and we have hit upon an admirable plan to rectify things. Is that not so, Sir James?”

Though he attempted to muster up the required response, James found he could manage nothing more than a nod and a clearing of his throat at this point.

For the first time a hint of trepidation entered Mistress Payne’s expression, and he was strangely pleased to see it.

She darted an alarmed glance his way, before determinedly facing forward and concentrating solely on the Queen.

“We have decided you will be wed this afternoon in the royal chapel,” Armenal concluded graciously.

This pronouncement caused Mistress Payne’s eyes to widen like trenchers. “To whom?” she burst out in astonishment.

The Queen looked a little annoyed. “Why to Sir James, of course! Who else?”

Mistress Payne gasped aloud at this, her head whipping around to skewer him with a disbelieving stare. This time he could well believe the Queen’s words had shocked her. He took a perverse sort of pleasure in her horrified incredulity.

“ What? ” she yelped. “But I—I—” Her protests seemed to stick in her throat. She swallowed, then hope appeared to flood back into her eyes. “What about my father’s consent?” she asked wildly, as though a drowning woman spotting land in the distance.

The Queen made a scoffing sound. “Clearly your father does not think marriage it is the priority for you, my good Gunnilde, else he would have arranged a match for you as soon as your first, it fell through, would he not?”

James’s ears pricked up . So ...he was not the only one with a failed betrothal it seemed.

“You must not fret over this matter,” the Queen continued sagely. “Your father, he will concede to my judgment in this matter, I am sure. Did he not send you to court to mingle with the leading lights of the land and elevate your prospects?”

Mistress Payne’s expression alternated from desperate to doubtful and back again. James surmised her father did not give a rush light for such things, however she could hardly vocalize this to the Queen, so for once she behaved wisely and held her tongue.

“I am sure his forgiveness will be forthcoming when he hears of your most impressive elevation to lady-in-waiting to Karadok’s Queen,” Armenal said slyly.

Gunnilde’s expression went from anguished to dazed disbelief in an instant. It was plain she could not quite believe her ears. “M-me?” she breathed, pointing to her bodice. “A lady-in-waiting to Your Highness?”

The Queen beamed, finally pleased with the reaction she had evoked.

“Oh, Your Majesty!” Gunnilde’s voice shook with emotion. “Oh, I can scarcely believe it!” She took two impetuous steps forward before she could stop herself, and the Queen extended a beringed hand. James watched through narrowed eyes as Mistress Payne hurried to clasp it.