Page 136 of A Most Forgettable Girl

“I think they will remain married, you know,” speculated Kit as they hurried down the corridor. “Despite everything. What say you?”

“Of course they will!” Hal huffed. “Did not my brother-in-law make that plain? If anyone disputes it, we’re to take up arms!”

“Not your sister and Wycliffe, you dolt! No question about that. I mean the Farleighs.”

“Doubtful, very doubtful I should say,” Neville chimed in. “Sir Douglas looked as if he was heartily sick of the pack of them. He’s more likely to take an oath of chastity than to e’er say wedding vows again!”

Cuthbert, Gunnilde noticed, said nothing. She debated asking his opinion on the matter, but one glance at James’s face changed her mind. Clearly, Douglas and Constance’s fate was very far from uppermost in his mind. He practically dragged her up the stairs to their quarters and on reaching their rooms, made straight for their bedchamber, towing her in his wake.

“I think the others—”

“Neville can play host,” James cut her off. “I need to speak with you, Gunnilde. Alone.”

“Yes,” she agreed, and he shut the door behind them, crossing to light the fire, which was laid ready. Gunnilde donned her woollen mantle, removed her shoes, and took a seat on the bed as James lit two candles. Though the hour could be no more advanced than four o’clock, darkness was already falling fast.

The room soon took on a cosy hue, and James drew a chair up before the fire, turning it to face her before sitting himself down. “I will tend the fire until it gets properly going,” he said, taking up the poker and giving it a prod.

Gunnilde was not entirely sure this was the reason for him putting distance between them, but she nodded anyway. “Shall I speak first?”

“I would rather unburden myself, if you are willing to hear it.” She assented at once and he took a deep breath. “Thank you,” he said in a low voice. “For letting me say my piece before the King and for standing by me, whatever it cost you. I know I am far from your ideal, but I want you to know how much it means to me that you can overlook this and put our vows first and foremost.

Gunnilde stared at him. “James—” She faltered but he held up his hand.

“Allow me to say this, Gunnilde. Permit me to promise you a good life, despite the fact I am far from the type of husband you always dreamed of growing up.”

“Far from...?” Gunnilde repeated, sitting up straight on the bed. “Why do you say so?”

“Because,” he answered, “I know that I am not.” She gazed at him in bewilderment. “I’m not some...strapping knight riding off into battle,” he flung at her. “I’ll never make you tournament queen.”

“Oh, that, but I do not mind that at all! Eden made me tournament queen once, so I have already realized that ambition.”

“Eden?” he echoed, plainly startled. “Eden Vawdrey? How could she have—?”

“I dreamed of marrying a knight, it’s true, but you are a knight, James. We have already had this discussion, have we not? There are different kinds. I certainly never dreamed of marrying one so handsome as you. None of the knights who competed at my father’s tournament ever were,” she admitted frankly.

“The kind of knight I am married to resides at court and serves his king and country forty days out of the year. I am more than happy with my lot. In fact...” She hesitated. Would a confession of love be acceptable to him at this point? It was not like her to be so reticent, but she could not seem to help it. Her love felt like a thing that should be protected and nurtured at all costs, not exposed to the elements. “In fact,” she repeated breathlessly, “my concern is that you do not share my contentment in our match. I mean, not really. After all, how can you?”

He frowned. “Explain,” he said shortly.

She heaved a great sigh. “You see, I meant to work so hard on your behalf,” she said sincerely. “I knew from the start that I had a good deal of work to do to make up for all you lost. Constance’s fortune, I mean,” she added when he continued to look blank. “And the connections she would have brought you, which would have been so valuable to your advancement.”

“What are you—?”

“Please let me say it, James. I am aware that you never intended to wed one such as I, you wanted someone quite different for your bride, and our marriage was a huge shock to you.” She swallowed. “And yes, a disappointment too.”

“Gunnilde, don’t!” he burst out. “Do not say such things. Even at the time I never thought of it like that.”

“James, you do not need to spare my feelings,” she insisted. “I want us both to speak freely and to—to—” Sadly at this point her courage failed along with her speech.

“Very well, if I am to speak freely, then I will confess I am not as content as you,” James said confrontationally. “Shall I tell you why?”

Gunnilde forced herself to return his steady gaze. “Please do,” she said, even though cost her dearly. This was going to hurt, she thought, far more than Sir Ned’s words ever could, but she owed it to James to bear the pain stoically.

“I am not content because you do not harbor the same depth of feeling for me that I feel for you. There, now I have said it!” he said with a challenging lift of his chin. “One day, I hope I will inspire such feeling in your bosom, but until that day—”

“Wait!” Gunnilde started up off the bed. She took a step toward him, then hesitated. “You mean respect and admiration and things like that?” she asked cautiously.

Slowly, he shook his head. “I’m not even speaking of love that grows sensibly over time,” he admitted. “I’m talking about the fact that I have fallen headlong, recklessly, inexorably in love with you, Gunnilde Payne.”